Country of Residence: Palestine Country of Origin: Palestine
In a tent amid Gaza’s rubble, young girls gather daily to memorize the Qur’an. Despite losing homes and family, they radiate sabr (patience), iman (faith), and strength. Calling themselves the “Halaqa of Kindness,” they show how even children can embody sacred resilience—and lead with light when the world goes dark.
Wael Al-Dahdouh, a seasoned journalist for Al Jazeera, spent years covering the turbulent stories of Gaza. With sharp intellect and unwavering dedication, he became a voice for the voiceless, revealing the stark realities of his people. For him, journalism was not merely a profession—it was a mission, a duty to truth and justice.
In October 2023, while broadcasting live during the Israeli genocide on Gaza, Wael learned that several of his family members had been murdered in an airstrike. His wife, his daughter Sham (aged 7), his son Mahmoud (aged 15), and a grandchild were among the martyrs, along with 21 others. They had been staying in Nuseirat refugee camp after evacuating from the north of Gaza, following Israeli warnings. His other son, Yehia, was seriously wounded, and at least eight other relatives were also killed.
Despite this immense personal tragedy, Wael continued his work. On 15 December 2023, while covering the Haifa School airstrike in Khan Younis with cameraman Samer Abu Daqqa, both were hit by an Israeli missile. Wael was evacuated and treated for shrapnel wounds, but Abu Daqqa—left wounded because Israel prevented ambulances from entering—bled to death alone. Even after this, Wael returned quickly to reporting.
Then on 7 January 2024, another blow struck. His eldest son, journalist Hamza al-Dahdouh (27), was assassinated by an Israeli airstrike alongside colleague Mustafa Thuraya in Khan Younis. A frantic colleague approached Wael, struggling to deliver the news. “It’s Hamza… the drone targeted the car.” Time froze. Memories of his son’s face flashed before Wael’s eyes, his microphone trembling in his hand. Yet Wael, a man of profound faith, steadied himself. With tears, he recited: “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un”
(Indeed, to Allah we belong and to Him we shall return.) The camera captured his raw grief as he continued:
We do not live for this world but for the Akhira. This life is temporary, a test. Allah has promised Jannah for the patient and steadfast.
Wael Al-Dahdouh
At Hamza’s funeral, Wael’s voice carried both unbearable sorrow and unshakable conviction:
“There is nothing more difficult than the pain of loss. When you endure this pain time after time, it becomes harder and more intense. But what can we say? Allah is sufficient for us, and He is the best disposer of affairs. This is our destiny, and we must accept it. Our hope is that Allah will be pleased with us and count us among the patient. Like everyone else in Gaza, we bid farewell to our loved ones every day, every hour, every moment. May Allah comfort our hearts and grant us patience and strength for Hamza and all the martyrs. We are committed to the pledge. This is the path we have chosen willingly. We have given much, and we have watered it with blood. This is the great challenge. A person grieves and suffers, and the pain is immense, how much greater when the loss is of the firstborn child, the dearest to the heart, the soul of my soul.”
Wael Dahdouh
He laid to rest a piece of his heart, his footsteps light, almost surreal, as though he were not walking at all. Thoughts of his wife, sons, daughter, grandchildren, and their life together poured into his mind, each memory cutting deeper. Ya Allah, inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un.
Yet even in devastation, Wael did not falter in his duty. He continued to report, to bear witness, to speak the truth—now with an even greater sense of purpose. His mission became not only professional but profoundly personal: to be the voice of the slain, and the voice of those still enduring, resisting, and striving to live. Wael’s story is a testament to the enduring spirit of Gaza and the power of faith in the face of unimaginable loss. His broken heart, yet unbroken resolve, reflects a soul fully reliant upon Allah (swt). His resilience has inspired countless others beyond Gaza to hold steadfast to their beliefs, to embrace sabr, and to never lose hope in Allah’s promise.
Discussion Themes
Objective
To explore the role of sabr (patience), resilience, and resistance in the face of trials.
Key Concept
Sabr as an essential quality for believers.
Resilience as the ability to recover and move forward despite hardship.
Resistance as an Islamic principle of standing firm against injustice and oppression.
Learning Outcomes
Students will be able to:
explain how Wael’s story illustrates patience, resilience, and resistance, and connect these values to their own lives when facing difficulties
Objective
To show how faith provides strength during personal loss and crisis.
Key Concept
Qur’anic verse: “Indeed, we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return.” (Surah Al-Baqarah, 2:156)
Learning Outcome
Students will:
reflect on how Wael’s reliance on Allah (swt) guided him through grief and understand how this verse comforts believers during hardship
Objective
To analyze the importance of standing for truth and justice, especially in journalism.
Key Concept
Sidq (truth) and adl (justice) as Islamic values.
Ethical journalism as a form of amr bil ma‘ruf wa nahy ‘anil munkar (enjoining good, forbidding evil).
Learning Outcome
Students will:
explore the impact of the girls’ dedication to memorizing the Qur’an on their sense of purpose and identity. They will evaluate the role of education and religious practice in their own lives and develop strategies to enhance these areas for personal and collective empowerment
Objective
To highlight the role of compassion and solidarity in strengthening the Ummah.
Key Concept
Hadith: “The believers, in their affection, mercy, and compassion for each other, are like one body…”(Bukhari and Muslim).
The Ummah as a global community bound by shared faith
Learning Outcome
Students will:
recognize how Wael’s sacrifices were not only for his family, but for the wider Ummah, and reflect on ways they can show compassion and solidarity in their own communities
Objective
To understand how loss, sacrifice, and martyrdom are honored in Islam.
Key Concept
Qur’an: “And do not say about those who are killed in the way of Allah, ‘They are dead.’ Rather, they are alive, but you perceive not.” (Surah Al-Baqarah, 2:154).
Martyrs (shuhada) are promised a special place in Jannah.
Learning Outcome
Students will:
reflect on Wael’s personal sacrifices, connect them to the Islamic concept of martyrdom, and consider how these examples can inspire them to endure trials with faith
Objective
To examine the role of journalism and media in humanizing the oppressed and resisting oppression
Key Concept
Media as a tool for truth-telling and raising awareness. Social media amplifies voices but can also spread propaganda. Resistance includes telling the truth about injustice to the world.
Learning Outcome
Students will:
analyze how Wael’s reporting influenced global awareness of Gaza’s suffering, distinguish between truth and propaganda, and reflect on the power of media to support resistance.
Activities & Questions
Debate on Ethical Journalism
Objective: Explore the ethical responsibilities of journalists and their alignment with Islamic values.
Task: Debate: “Should journalists risk their lives to report from conflict zones?”
Visual Storytelling
Objective: Use art to reflect on Wael’s story.
Task: Create artwork depicting Wael’s resilience and faith, incorporating Islamic values such as sabr, shahadah, and Ummah.
Role-Play Simulation
Objective: Develop empathy for journalists under siege.
Task: Recreate a press conference where students act as journalists reporting from war zones and reflect on the risks involved.
Community Service Project
Objective: Apply lessons of compassion and solidarity locally.
Task: Plan a project (e.g., food drive, refugee support, awareness campaign) and connect it to Wael’s commitment to serving humanity.
Patience and Resilience
How does Wael al-Dahdouh’s story illustrate sabr?
Can you think of a time when you needed to be patient in a difficult situation?
Faith
How did Wael’s faith help him cope with the loss of his family?
How does the verse “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un” bring comfort during trials?
Justice and Truth
Why is it important for Muslims to stand for justice and truth, even when it is difficult?
How does Wael’s journalism reflect this?
Social Media
How has social media changed the way conflicts are reported? What are the benefits and risks of relying on it?
Role of Journalists
Why did Wael feel urgency to continue reporting despite danger and pain?
What responsibilities do journalists carry in conflict zones?
Media Coverage
How does media reporting influence global opinion and political action? What was the impact of Wael’s reporting compared to outside journalists not allowed into Gaza?
Community and Compassion
How does Wael’s story reflect the principle of Ummah?
What can you do to show compassion and support in your community?
Martyrdom and Legacy
How do Wael’s family sacrifices reflect the concept of martyrdom? How can this understanding motivate you to contribute positively to your community?
Journalism and Propaganda
What is the difference between unbiased reporting and propaganda? How can journalists avoid being tools of propaganda?
Visual Journalism
How do photographs and videos affect the way people understand war? Why are they powerful tools in shaping global perception?
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Write down! I am an Arab And my identity card number is fifty thousand I have eight children And the ninth will come after a summer Will you be angry?
Write down! I am an Arab Employed with fellow workers at a quarry I have eight children I get them bread Garments and books from the rocks... I do not supplicate charity at your doors Nor do I belittle myself at the footsteps of your chamber So will you be angry?
Write down! I am an Arab I have a name without a title Patient in a country Where people are enraged My roots Were entrenched before the birth of time And before the opening of the eras Before the pines, and the olive trees And before the grass grew
My father ... descends from the family of the plough Not from a privileged class And my grandfather ... was a farmer Neither well-bred, nor well-born! Teaches me the pride of the sun Before teaching me how to read And my house is like a watchman's hut Made of branches and cane Are you satisfied with my status? I have a name without a title!
Write down! I am an Arab You have stolen the orchards of my ancestors And the land which I cultivated Along with my children And you left nothing for us Except for these rocks ... So will the State take them As it has been said?!
Therefore! Write down on the top of the first page: I do not hate people Nor do I encroach But if I become hungry The usurper's flesh will be my food Beware ... Beware ... Of my hunger And my anger!
Oh Children of Gaza by Zahraa Jamal
Oh Children of Gaza! Our hearts bleed;
We see how You are killed, Skating down the street.
Oh Children of Gaza!
It’s unfair;
Your rights are not fulfilled, But you possess a beauty and strength So rare.
Oh Children of Gaza!
Hold strong to Deen;
Say, Hasbunallah! Allah is sufficient for us! Worry not, trust that you are seen.
Oh Children of Gaza!
The day will dawn, When justice will be served. Those who have wronged you, Will suffer and mourn.
Oh Children of Gaza!
Your pain is not in vain. Jannah awaits, And for eternity, there you will remain.
O beloved Palestine by Hana Vahed
O beloved Palestine We won’t let you go When will the bloodshed stop? Only Allah knows Israel is to blame But they are lying And always denying Let the people return to the homes they’ve fled And let their hearts be free of dread Though we may not see it These people are great In the eyes of Allah, this is their fate In Palestine’s heart, hope is still strong Amongst the pain, love shines on Empathy and peace beat in the hearts of all With the hardship, their Imaan stays true Because saving Al Aqsa is what they were chosen to do
I Walk Through The Valley Of Death by Jurair Abdul Qadir Patel
I walk through the valley of death a place once so full of life I wondered if the cries of my daughter weren't enough for the oppressors to stop and pull out the knife I wondered if killing millions wasn't fulfilling enough for the Israelis to spare my child Helpless and broken I stared at the sky with my knees on the ground with tears in my eye surrounded by the soldiers from all the sides I smiled at the animals in front of my eyes who carried the flag of blue and white for there was no remorse their conscience had died.
I Am What Israel Made Me by Salma Mather
I used to be a girl who laughed at everything and was constantly being told by my teachers to stop talking I used to be brave and whole I looked in the mirror today and realised that girl Died Along with the others She is buried under the rubble I am no longer brave Or whole I can no longer laugh I can only keep re-seeing The ripped torso of a girl Who I used to call my best friend They call me a victim I am no longer a girl I am just what Israel made me
How Can I Stand For A Place I Have Never Been by Imaan Hassim
How can I stand for a place I have never been? Speak out for people I have never seen?
Is it that the heart chooses what to feel?
Is it humanity that binds us?
If I could I’d whisper secrets in the winds.
To every mother whose tears never cease.
To every father whose fears only grow.
To every child who dreams like me.
You are not alone.
Your dreams glisten and shine like The moonlit sea.
Over dark and hellish skies, the sun Shall always rise.
Oh, certainly Palestine freedom shall be Your prize
Palestine by Noor Elgobashy
As the sun starts to set A child lies beneath an olive tree to rest Her home destroyed She was left dismayed This pure child’s innocence, void Monitoring a soldier approach Her heart feels tense Her body, dense She tries to scream Wishing this was just a dream
She closes her eyes in silent prayer And there lies the figure right before her With lifeless eyes And a gun in his hand Another life lost, more stolen land
Dear Palestine The world knows there are hundreds like this everyday And what does the world do Where is humanitarian aid When d human rights come into play Its time to put a end to this This war must bid farewell For there will come a time When Palestine Will finally prevail But for now, You are in our prayers
Oh Allah bring their hearts together Reform their mutual relationships And give them victory over your enemies and their enemies
Pain of Palestine by Syeda Maryam
Like the people of Nuh And the Muslims of Makkah Will this nation too Find refuge for their Taqwah?
Akin to the Sahaba And their striving ways Pray the Palestinians’ burning Iman Will save them today
Ya Muqtadir, whose power is a universe Compared to which the cruel are specks And Whose mercy blooms like a flower Amidst the thorns of our world’s brutality Ya Rahman, the denier of undeserved despair, Ya Rauf, who loves his believers endlessly, Spare the Muminoon of Palestine pain Like you spared Bani Israel from vicious reign
Ya Darr, the one who brings pain to the immoral Ya Mumit, who ends the evil Make an example of the predators of the Mumin An example the world won’t forget
Even though they were born with a devil Every person is also born with an angel Ya Hadi, who shows the light to the lost Guide the wayward of this world
I Wonder by Safa Asghar
I wonder as I stare at the empty grey sky If everyone lives under the same one I wonder what living is like When I don’t know I’ll exist the next moment I asked my mother if humanity still existed She said humans do I wonder what I have done to deserve this, Why people still don’t care? I think about freedom and if my people will ever get it? I look at my scarred hands And I wonder if my wounds will ever heal I wonder what life is actually like If people still have their families, while mine is no more I wonder when I would smile after all the shed tears They told me to cling onto hope And I wonder when it would turn into reality I wonder what will happen to my people as the inhuman soldier presses the trigger...
As The Sun Starts To Set by Noor Elgobashy
As the sun starts to set A child lies beneath an olive tree to rest Her home destroyed She was left dismayed This pure child’s innocence, void Monitoring a soldier approach Her heart feels tense Her body, dense She tries to scream Wishing this was just a dream She closes her eyes in silent prayer And there lies the figure right before her With lifeless eyes And a gun in his hand Another life lost, more stolen land Dear Palestine The world knows there are hundreds like this everyday And what does the world do Where is humanitarian aid When do human rights come into play Its time to put a end to this This war must bid farewell For there will come a time When Palestine Will finally prevail But for now, You are in our prayers Oh Allah bring their hearts together Reform their mutual relationships And give them victory over your enemies and their enemies
A Call for Palestine: A Plea for Justice by Hassan Shahid
In the stillness of the night, where shadows weep, Where the earth laments, in dreams buried deep, The cries of the people slice through the dark, Yearning for justice, a freedom’s spark.
From the ancient wisdom, the Prophet’s flame, The tale of Suleman, a revered name, He stood where silence was an endless strife, Where nations faltered, losing life.
The camel, once pure, its sanctity betrayed, A tale that shook the world, foundations swayed, Those who saw the signs of tyranny near, Yet in their silence, they bore the weight of fear.
"Raise your voices, or bear the cost, Without justice, all is lost, Palestine’s cry, a beacon so bright, Guiding us through the darkest night."
When Gaza’s wail reaches our ears, We cannot turn away, nor dismiss the tears, Silence will no longer shield us from guilt, It fuels the flames oppression built.
"Now speak with strength, with purpose clear, For justice is born when voices are near, Palestine calls us to rise, to stand, To shield their rights with unwavering hand."
Let our hearts ignite with a steadfast fire, For silence now will lead to mire, In every deed, in every voice, we must show, That justice and truth in our souls grow.
If we remain mute as oppression thrives, We bear the weight of countless lives, Raise your voices, let justice reign, In the face of darkness, break every chain.
"In history’s echo, our actions speak loud, The silent falter, the brave stand proud, Palestine’s call is our shared fight, For justice, for freedom, we must unite."
Miracles Under the Rubble by Ali Husain
A child in pain, with hope so small, She tried her best to call and call.
An angel came with light so bright, Turning darkness into daylight.
In that light, her fears took flight, And rescuer calls lit up the night.
To warm the child, the angel stayed, Until the rescuers found their way.
Beneath the rubble and the stone, A child lay trapped and all alone.
Yet in his hand, his faith held tight, A tasbih glowing through the night.
His whispered zikr, his softest voice, It wasn't really his choice.
For days he did zikr through hardship and fear, Until the rescuers drew near.
Through the rubble, they found him there, Awaiting the right care with silent prayer.
Beneath the stone, a baby cried, With broken bones, she really tried.
Her cries were small, but her strength was strong, A glimmer of hope in her mother's song.
The rescuers heard her tiny sound, And quickly dug into the ground.
Through shattered glass and broken dreams, She suffered under cruel schemes.
Her tiny hands, her small eyes, Made it hard to find her due to her size.
Though war had torn her family apart, This child survived with a beating heart
Innocence In Ashes by Helena Thaer Abdesumad
In a land where the sun forgets to shine, I open my eyes, but darkness is mine. The cries of wars are the songs that I hear, In Palestine, where hope has disappeared.
My home is just a memory, a fleeting ghost, Laughter’s vanished, replaced by most Terrifying echoes, constant and near— A child’s heart is consumed by fear.
Bombs fall like endless tears from the sky, My house turned to rubble, no place to hide. Explosions are my lullabies, sharp and loud, In every blast, I feel my world shroud.
Mama and Baba are gone, their faces I chase, Their loving arms lost in the war-torn place. I wander through the debris, feeling so lost, In this sea of destruction, counting the cost.
There’s no home to return to, just empty, cold streets, Where the nights are long and the cold never retreats. I huddle alone where shadows take flight, Dreaming of warmth in the dead of the night.
My stomach is empty, hunger my only friend, When food appears, it’s stained with blood’s end. Each bite is a battle, each meal is a tear, In a world where even sustenance is a fear.
Pain is my constant companion now, I've grown numb to the hurt, don't ask me how. My body bears the scars of countless strife, In this cruel world that's stolen my life.
Once a child with dreams now forced to see, A world where innocence is lost to me. I’ve aged in heart, my spirit’s been cracked, In a blink, my youth stripped and attacked.
In this land where hope has turned to dust, I live in a nightmare, broken and thrust. Each day’s a struggle, each night a scar, A child's heart beaten by a war’s cruel scar. -------------------------------------------------------------------- This poem is written from the perspective of a Palestinian child living in Gaza.
The Evergreen Tree by Rushda Suleman
As a blue and white flag falters through the wind Your loved ones hold what’s left of you In your shroud of crimson-stained thread.
Your bloody birth certificate Hanging in a torn tent Haunting them, taunting them, Saying; “You have nothing left”.
On a tree rooted in your ancestral home A small olive bud begins to grow Bringing with it the undeniable fact That their longing land will be returned And their broken hearts will be cured.
So you can sleep soundly knowing very well That your death grew resilience and hope; An olive branch, a symbol of life reborn.
A Train of Flame by Sohaib Abdelmegeed
The bride in drapes of white, Walks beneath man-made stars that light up the night
The gown of a thousand layers, Its hems incinerated, a drown of prayers
His only love lost beneath those stones, Perhaps he'll find an eye, or maybe a few bones
A symphony of rhythmic blows, Who are you to complain of all your woes?
And yet he looks up to the stars, a peaceful night, To thank the Lord who created what shines bright
And despite what transpires, through thick and thin The righteous in the end surely do win
Do not despair, people of the green pitted tree Your homeland is yours, forever was and will be.
Poetry in our ears (Things you may find hidden in my ear) by Musab Abu Toha
When you open my ear, touch it gently. my mother’s voice lingers somewhere inside. Her voice is the echo that helps recover my equilibrium when I feel dizzy during my attentiveness.
You may encounter songs in Arabic, poems in English I recite to myself, or a song I chant to the chirping birds in our backyard. When you stitch the cut, don’t forget to put all these back in my ear. Put them back in order as you would do with books on your shelf.
The drone’s buzzing sound, The roar of an F-16, The screams of bombs falling on houses, On fields, and on bodies, of rockets flying away—rid my small ear canal of them all.
Spray the perfume of your smiles on the incision. Inject the song of life into my veins to wake me up. Gently beat the drum so my mind may dance with yours, my doctor, day and night.
Treasured Memories (Inspired by the poetry of Mosab Abu Toha)
In each room, dim the light's soft glow, In the inner hallway, where shadows slow. Away from windows, I find my retreat, No haven of calm, in my mind worries compete.
Forget the stove, the scent of food is just a dream A bottle of water, to cool the children's fears, An embroidered handkerchief to wipe away their tears
Late grandparents' photos, in tender embrace, Money and ID cards of the family whose lives have passed A wedding invitation, memories time can't erase. Tiny toys within a child's backpack stuffed Nestled under my arm, a comforting weight
My pockets with treasure and purpose, filled, Handful of soil in one, strawberry seeds in the other I hold on tight to life's little joys, I hold on tight to sweet strong faith. For the age on my last birthday might be the last of the years I have.
The Wind of Gaza by Amani Omar
The wind whispers A child awakens Sobs shattering silence Tattered robes stained with blood Alone without solace, a burning heart
The wind rustles A breath of hope A wisp of comfort The innocent child rises
The wind howls “You are strong, resilient” “A nation unbroken” “A land destined for freedom”
The wind rages Healing wounds Drying tears Faith unyielding An angel emerges, aiding
The wind roars, screeching “Summon your people” Through ruins and ravaging fires The call ignites
Ashes blossom into green Warriors mounting white steeds Bright stars in the black night The Palestinians stand tall against the red horizon
