The heartache of a Gaza mother as the publication of her son is postponed | Israel-Palestine conflict news

Khan Younis, Gaza -In last week Najat Al-Agha went from the happiest she was ever in heartache when she heard that her son, who was under 620 Palestinian prisoners, was not released on Saturday.

Diaa al-Agha, who was arrested at the age of 16 for killing an Israeli officer, has been in prison for almost 33 years, the longest-serving prisoner from Gaza in Israeli prisons.

The seventy -five -year -old Najat has been waiting for the DIAA since he was taken on October 10, 1992. She campaigned, took part in Sit-In, was spoken at conferences and became one of the best-known faces among the families of the prisoners.

“Oh, my son, I've been waiting for this moment for 33 years and he disappeared from my eyes,” she cried.

Destroy a fragile hope

Najat is not the only person crushed by Israel's decision not to publish 620 Palestinian prisoners, although it is part of a ceasefire between IT and Hamas in Gaza Strip.

On Saturday, the Hamas presented six prisoners who were taken from Israel in October 2023, and Israel was to publish 620 people who had arrested it at different times.

But it decided not to say that the handover ceremony was “provocative” for the six prisoners and would thus stop the publications of the prisoners.

“When they told us that there would be no publication, I collapsed and shouted: 'Why? Why?'

“Then I lost awareness.”

This morning, Najat, her son Mohammed, his wife and children and daughter Ola with her children rose to Salah al-Din Street to try to reach Khan Younis, where the release was expected. They had been driven out for a large part of the war.

Salah al-Din is the only street that makes Israel use cars.

“I continued to ask the driver: 'Please, son, get a house',” she says.

“He could only answer: 'It is outside of my hands, mother, look at the traffic.'”

It took more than an hour to reach her destroyed home in Khan Younis, which Israel had shot at Gaza in November 2023. The trip is about 24 km (15 miles).

Relatives, neighbors and friends had gathered in the house to celebrate Diaa's upcoming release.

“I hugged people and hardly believed that I finally heard these words after 33 years,” says Najat.

Some of the mothers of other prisoners asked them to wear the embroidered clothes they had prepared for Diaa's return.

“They all knew [about the dresses] But they were lost when my home was destroyed [by Israel]”She sighed.

Fragile hope increases

When Najat heard that Israel had finally agreed to release Diaa under the batch on Saturday, she recalled tired.

“I had dreamed of this day for so long,” she continued, and tears poured over her face. “For 33 years I feared that I would not live to see my son freely.”

But she clings to her hope. “He will be in my arms in just a few days,” she whispers, as if he kills his dream into reality.

Diaa al-agha

The name of Diaa is for admission to earlier prisoners and Israel refused and quoted his crime.

As a member of the Fatah movement from the age of 13, Diaa began to participate in armed operations at the age of 16.

Now he suffers from health problems that affect his bones and digestive system, and according to his mother, however, was refused to provide proper medical treatment.

Najat has waited and prayed for other men in her family who were previously arrested.

Her husband Zakaria was arrested in 1973 for charges for resistance groups and spent two years in Israeli custody. He died in 2005 after she had seen in prison after a stroke the day before because of his grief about Diaa.

Her eldest son, Azzam, was imprisoned in 1990 for a “proven terrorist military wing” and spent four years in prison, while Mohammed served for 12 years, who was charged with deliberate shooting on Israeli soldiers.

Najat waited every time, counted the days and visited when she could.

She also visited Diaa, even though she was sometimes denied access.

“But I think I'm lucky because I last saw him when I was against Gaza just a month before the war. He was in good health and ghosts, ”she says.

“Are we only farmers?”

Najat waited for Diaa's release and went through fear, anticipation and hope.

“I always imagined how it would be released – his hands and feet in this bitter cold,” she said.

“I know that the Israeli prison attendants are happy before the release in their last moments,” she said shaky. “That filled me with fear.”

But she also introduced herself to spending her first Ramadan with him for 33 years.

“I imagined that I prepared his favorite meals – I wouldn't let anyone cook others. I want to make up for all the years in which we have been kept separately. “

The thought without going to him that night did not cross her – until it was like that.

“I saw people cry and whispered. My children crushed together and I heard: “No, not today.”

“I grabbed my daughter Ola: 'Tell me what happens. What does 'no' mean? '”

Her children tried to calm her down and assured her that it was only a delay. But the world wiped around it as it put it.

“I didn't want to hear anyone. I didn't want to talk. I only screamed out of protest until everything got dark.

“Are we only farmers to you?” She cried. “Thirty-three years of the waiting is not enough?

“I will see my son freely, hopefully very soon,” she says, her voice determined. “I waited 33 years, I'll wait a little longer.”