Gaza – When 15-year-old Zain Abudaqa spoke to his father by phone on December 15, he didn’t know it was the last time he would hear his voice.
“He told me to cultivate my talents and never give up on my dreams. He told me to be a good son,” Zain said. “I can’t believe he walked away and left us alone like that.”
Samer Abudaqa was 46 years old when he was killed in an Israeli air raid on Khan Younis in Gaza on December 15. A photojournalist and cameraman born and raised in the town of Abasan al-Kabira, east of Khan Younis, he joined Tel Aviv Tribune Arab. in 2002.
Abudaqa sent his wife and four children to live in Belgium three years ago and has only managed to visit them twice – the last time three months ago when he brought home roses, his favorite way to express love for one’s family. He had hoped to bring them back to Gaza to live together again once it was safe enough.
Zain, who is Abudaqa’s second son, has a particular talent for singing and was encouraged by his father to develop it – which is partly why his father was so keen for the family to move to Belgium where Zain would have more possibilities to do so. .
“For three years we have been in Belgium, far from my father,” Zain said. “We were waiting for him to come back to us during the war. We asked him to leave Gaza during the war because we were very afraid for him. »
Zain was at school when he learned that his father had been injured alongside his colleague Wael Dahdouh, Tel Aviv Tribune’s Gaza bureau chief, who lost several members of his family, including his wife, two of his children and a grandson, because of the accident. Israeli bombing in November.
“I asked (the school) to allow me to go home so I could be with my mother, my sister and my brothers. (For) six hours straight, we waited for news from my father despite the internet and communications outages in Gaza. I had hope that he would survive.
This hope was ultimately dashed when, later that night, it was confirmed that Abudaqa had bled to death from his injuries following the Israeli attack as he and Dahdouh were on their way to Farhana School in Khan Younis. Medical teams were able to reach Dahdouh and take him to hospital, but they were unable to access Abudaqa. When they finally reached it, a few hours later, it was already too late.
Despite the danger, “he never hesitated”
Even though his family was safe abroad, Abudaqa insisted on remaining in Gaza to cover the war.
In the more than 20 years he worked for Tel Aviv Tribune, he never stopped for a moment, his friends and colleagues said, with some describing him as working “like a bee.”
Dahdouh, who worked alongside Abudaqa since joining the Gaza bureau in 2004, remembers his colleague as a journalist who was always brave enough to seek out the most important stories.
“We encouraged each other to produce distinct stories without thinking too much about the effects those stories might have on us,” he said. “We really liked everyone’s work. Samer was one of those photographers who had an eye for images and produced images that spoke.
“He would go out into the field and paint the picture he needed, then come back with a complete story. »
On the day of his death, Abudaqa went with Dahdouh to film a report at the Farhana school, east of Khan Younis. Although the area is known to be particularly dangerous, Abudaqa did not hesitate, Dahdouh said.
“Samer was a very spontaneous and generous person who really loved his work. He always prioritized his work – sometimes to the detriment of his family.
“He woke up early and prepared the equipment to go out with me to film despite my hesitation on this task due to the severity of the situation there.”
Accompanied by a Palestinian Civil Defense unit, the two men spent two and a half hours filming at the site before beginning to prepare to leave. “The mission was complete,” Dahdouh said. “But when we left, we were directly targeted by a reconnaissance missile. Three members of the Civil Defense were killed and I was injured.
Dahdouh lost consciousness while Abudaqa was hit so badly in the stomach and abdomen that he was unable to move the lower part of his body. “I tried to be strong and I was able to move with difficulty,” Dahouh remembers. “I couldn’t hear well. I tried to take cover from more missiles, which I expected would fall, and when I saw that my hand was bleeding badly, I tried to crawl away.
“I walked towards the ambulance, which was a few hundred meters from us, and when I reached them with difficulty, I asked them to come back and save Samer. They told me it was difficult because of the debris (blocking the path), and they said they would take care of me and then return to Samer.
However, it took hours of coordination with the different parties to achieve this. The Red Crescent ambulance team had to request assistance from a Red Cross vehicle to avoid being targeted by Israeli soldiers.
When they finally reached Abudaqa, it became apparent that his press jacket had come off in the explosion. He had tried to crawl away, but was injured again while doing so.
Dahdouh said he was not at all surprised by the courage Abudaqa showed that day.
“I have a lot of stories and moments that I experienced with Samer. Many times we could have died together in different places in the northern Gaza Strip. He considered me his brother. Our relationship was special – he was a generous and generous person.
“Who else will this war take?
“His catchphrase was ‘Ready!’ “, recalls Hisham Zaqout, Tel Aviv Tribune correspondent and colleague of Abudaqa, who joined the organization in 2009.
“He never refused a request from anyone. When he got a visa to go to Belgium and see his family, he slaughtered two sheep for us and brought us treats as if it were a wedding.
Zaqout added: “Samer was one of the most committed to his work. He insisted on editing his stories without anyone pressuring him. That’s why I left him alone until the story was ready.
When Dahdouh and Abudaqa were struck, he said, he was at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir el-Balah. He appealed live during a broadcast for an ambulance to be sent to Abudaqa.
“I spent more time with Samer than with my family,” said Heba Akila, another Tel Aviv Tribune correspondent. “Long periods of work, moments of success and continuous coverage of all these events have brought us closer. I can’t believe Samer is gone. I can’t believe we don’t have him with us anymore. We don’t know who else this war will take.
As it stands, in just two and a half months, Israel’s war on Gaza has killed at least 100 journalists. Dahdouh pointed out that 60 journalists died during the Vietnam War, which lasted almost 20 years.
“Journalists will continue their work of reporting on events on the ground, and that is what we have been doing,” Dahdouh said. “This is the strongest way we can respond to war. This is why Samer died.
The day before his death, Abudaqa visited his mother, Maher, in Khan Younis. “He came to see me,” she said, holding back tears. “I was making breakfast and asked him to stay with us to eat. But he could never be away from his colleagues for long – he loved his family and friends and could never leave Gaza.
“He said: ‘Mom, my friends are waiting for me, I’m going to eat with them.’ I feel now that he really came to say goodbye.
