Our community will never fall

This is my niece, Ciela, today, so beautiful and sweet, and full of life. And with her, in the third video, is her cousin, poor innocent Nedal, who has been waiting for months for an urgent medical evacuation. l am at the hospital, and It's been more than a week since the so-called end of the war, yet we still can't find medications for our sick patients. We still receive people shot in the head; by the IOF.

The collapsed health system hasn't received any support; no medical supplies, no aid, nothing at all. The borders remain closed. The drones and warplanes are still terrorizing us. The war didn't end; and it won't end soon. Thousands of martyrs are still buried beneath the rubble, and thousands of the kidnapped remain physically and psychologically tortured to death. We haven't rested, and we haven't even had the chance to grieve.

It's a game of power, and we are the weakest ones in the cycle of a genocide. Between our death and our life lies a very thin thread; so thin you can't even see it.

No matter how deadly life becomes, no matter how long it lasts, it never grants us an easy end.

How worthy are their dead, and hovw unworthy we are, to the Muslim and Arab leaders, and to humanity.

And yet, we are more human than any of them; because this is our home, and we are the true, indigenous people of this land.

Our community will never fall, as long as we resist and give all that we have. Our best are those who live for their people; our wWorst are those who harm their own, and the innocent children.

This is a message to the grown-up Ciela:

this is the reality the world left you to live through during the first two years of your childhood. And this is you, smiling and dancing at your uncle's wedding.