1946 “I used to help my father out in the fields. We grew tomatoes, cucumbers, and watermelons. We took the vegetables on our donkeys to the markets in Yafa and Mulabbis. When I had time off, I played football with my friends. I did not have a real football, so I made one out of cloth and string. My mother helped me.” 1948 “We loaded furniture and mattresses onto a donkey and walked the whole way. My father had to carry my grandfather on his back; he was one hundred years old. We left the village in the afternoon and walked for two days, without food or water. Along the way we picked oranges and apples. The first night we rested for only a couple of hours. We reached al-Tira the following night. We had barely settled in when the Israeli military attacked from three directions. We fled, but my father decided to try to return to al-Tira to fetch wheat and food for us. Meanwhile we reached a village between Taiba and Tulkarm. There were caves there where we spent the night. My father returned with wheat flour. There was plenty of water, and my mother baked bread over an open fire. We stayed in the caves for three weeks before continuing to Qalqilya, in al-Diffa al-Gharbia. Eventually our relatives found us. They came with donkeys and took us to their village, Mas-ha. My father began looking for work.” 1967 “I was still serving in the Jordanian army. We had weapons, but I never saw any Israeli soldiers. They attacked us only from the air, with planes, constantly. Many soldiers in the Jordanian army were killed. I was lucky to survive. We retreated to Mount Nebo Mousa, where we were trapped without food or water. We were terribly thirsty. I set off on my own down the mountain to my family in the Akbat Jaber refugee camp. When I arrived at the camp it was almost empty; the houses were abandoned, the doors left open. After Israel’s occupation, most of the camp’s 30,000 inhabitants had fled to al-Urdunn (Jordan). Only 5,000 people remained in the camp, including my family. They could not afford to flee. I had brought my radio equipment with me and heard that the military leadership ordered all Palestinians to cross east of the Jordan River, to al-Urdunn. But I refused. My family was in the camp, and I decided to stay in al-Diffa al-Gharbia.” 2002 “During a clash with the Israeli military here in the Balata refugee camp, my son Khalil was killed. Another of my sons, Jihad, attempted to carry out a suicide bombing together with a companion. They were supposed to pass the border crossing in Qalqilya, but the Israeli army knew of their plans and was waiting for them. Jihad and his companion blew themselves up. I am still waiting to get his body back. It remains in Israel. I have Jihad’s portrait here on the wall, together with his two other brothers. I have paid a high price; in total I have lost three sons. But I am not upset or angry. There are martyrs in the Qur’an, the Torah, and the Bible. God chose my sons to be martyrs. For that I am grateful, not angry.” Interpreter: ‘Abd Yusuf.