On April 24, the torn body of Amna Homaid lay in the rubble of a house in Shati camp in the western part of Gaza City as rescuers tried to find survivors. An Israeli attack hit the building, killing her and her eldest son Mahdi. His brother and five other children were injured but survived.
His death adds to the grim statistic of more than 140 journalists and medical workers murdered in Gaza by Israel’s genocidal attack, according to a tally kept by the Gaza Media Office. This year – like last year – more journalists have been killed in Palestine than in any other country.
Palestinian women journalists have always been at the forefront of Israel’s violent occupation and wars against Palestinians. Their courage and dedication helped shine a light on the suffering and atrocities that the Palestinian people have endured and continue to face.
But Amna was more than a journalist; she was a poet and feminist activist. She was born in Gaza in 1990 to a family whose roots trace back to the Palestinian town of Isdud – which Israelis today call Ashdod.
As is the case for most women in Gaza, Amna’s journey has been marked by resilience and an unwavering commitment to education. She graduated with a bachelor’s degree from the Islamic University of Gaza in 2016 and later joined a master’s program at Al-Aqsa University. His two alma maters were completely destroyed by Israeli bombing.
She has worked for several local newspapers and radio stations, lending her voice to the marginalized, conducting research and advocating for women’s rights and the Palestinian cause.
She lived in the Yarmouk neighborhood, just a few kilometers from Gaza’s Mediterranean coast. Had she been born across the sea, she might have enjoyed an extensive career and fame, winning numerous awards and worldwide recognition for her many gifts. As it stands, his final reward was death at the hands of the Israeli army.
Amna left behind a seven-month-old baby, Duha, as well as children Ali (10), Mohammed (9), Amir (5) and Ghana (4). Her husband, journalist and activist Saed Hassunah, was unable to reach them.
They separated in December after Israeli soldiers attacked a building in Gaza City where they had taken refuge, kidnapped and tortured him and forced Amna and the children to leave. After the Israeli army released Saed – beaten, stripped and without possessions – he headed south, as he was unable to establish contact with his family for several days. Wounded and deeply worried about his wife and children, he suffered a nervous breakdown.
Before this horrific ordeal, the family had survived Israeli bombings targeting the places where they had sought refuge on two occasions. The second time, Amna and Duha were injured.
“I can’t stop thinking about them after Amna’s murder,” Saed told me. “I can’t go north and they can’t come south. We’re separated. I couldn’t even attend Amna’s funeral or say my last goodbyes. and I can’t sleep thinking about them.
Amna’s family is emblematic of all those in Gaza who are grappling with the atrocities taking place there. The words of the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories, Francesca Albanese, ring with a dark truth: “The colossal amount of evidence regarding international crimes committed by Israel in Gaza over the past six months could occupy the Court international criminal law. for the next five decades.
The horror of Amna’s death is forever captured in a report broadcast by Tel Aviv Tribune Arabic. As correspondent Ismail al-Ghoul arrives at the scene of the attack, one of Amna’s sons, Mohammed, runs towards him. With tears streaming down his face and his voice trembling, the little boy shouts: “Uncle Ismail! » “Yes, what happened my dear?” asks the journalist.
The boy pours out: “My mother and brother are trapped under the rubble, and my other siblings and my uncle are injured. I came out well,” he says, crying without realizing that he has small shrapnel in his body.
The journalist asks him what happened. Mohammed has difficulty speaking. Breathing heavily and sobbing, he said a rocket hit while the family was sitting together. As he becomes overcome with tears, a loved one rushes to embrace him, offering what little comfort one might find in the midst of the ongoing genocide.
Mohammed’s words are a specter in my mind, thousands of miles away in Canada and powerless to do anything against the savage Leviathan unleashed on Gaza. I hope that one day these words will find an echo in the corridors of international justice.
Before being taken from us, Amna was the subject of a smear campaign. Israel’s Channel 14 broadcast a photo of her and claimed that she was part of the Palestinian armed resistance and that her presence at al-Shifa hospital proved that Hamas “had hidden in the hospital.”
Instead of showing solidarity with a fellow journalist under fire, Israeli media instead chose to incite against her. Amna was indeed in al-Shifa, but left the hospital just before the siege began and thus avoided death during the massacre of at least 400 people in March. This decision to leave extended his life by a few weeks.
Her husband believes she was targeted for her reporting on the Israeli genocide.
A few weeks before her assassination, Amna wrote a poignant reflection on her Facebook page:
“My choices have always been a mixture of bitter and surprising experiences. Even though circumstances are fraught with danger and destiny hangs in the balance, I have never been one to hesitate, to fold, to retreat, or to falter. Nothing will prevent me from defending the sacred nature of the sacraments and from carrying and transmitting the message that I have deeply understood from a very young age.
Amna’s murder on April 24 is a loss for her family, her friends, the Palestinian people and all those committed to building a better world. His words of hope and dedication are an incredible testament to the capacity of the human spirit to survive the unimaginable. I hope they inspire future generations to act as courageously as she did.
Rest in power, Amna!
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Tel Aviv Tribune.