Diary of a Jenin family, hiding in the kitchen from Israel’s assault

Saja Bawaqneh and six relatives have been hiding, terrified, in a corner of the family home’s kitchen since late Tuesday, August 27.

There is an Israeli assault going on outside in the occupied West Bank’s Jenin refugee camp – bigger and more vicious than the recurring attacks they got used to.

The power is out, there’s no water. They’re pretty sure Israeli soldiers severed the main lines.

Rationing the water they have, they worry because they called for help but nobody could come because tanks and soldiers are everywhere.

The Israeli army attacked Jenin, Nablus, Tubas and Tulkarem, killing at least 20 Palestinians and wounding many more.

The Bawaqneh home has been damaged and stormed by Israeli forces before – damaging doors, windows, air conditioning units, furniture, appliances and clothes.

The 29-year-old lawyer recounted the first day she spent hiding with the others in the tiny kitchen, fearing for their life.

Tuesday, August 27: The beginning

Late evening

It’s an ordinary night, nothing unusual. Nobody in the camp suspects anything, especially because it has been a relatively quiet few days.

We’re in the living room. I’m with Mama, my sisters Asmahan and Sumood, and my sister-in-law Niveen, my brother Farid’s wife.

Their two children – four-year-old Jawad and three-year-old Alaa (Lulu) – are in their pyjamas and have been allowed to play a final round of Lego before bed.

I hear a familiar bang. I suspect it’s a live bullet, the yelling in the streets confirms that.

My sisters and I race towards the big windows of our living room; squeezing our faces together to peer out.

We knew what was happening, but we’re still trying to figure out the details.

We see our neighbours frantically running towards their homes.

Some scream at the top of their lungs: “It’s the special forces! Special forces!”

They’re trying to warn the young men of the camp, my two brothers – Farid and Mohammed – included. After all, the men of the area are always beaten, mistreated, abused and arrested without charge in every storming of the camp.

We look for my brothers. They’re meant to be with their friends, but maybe they already left the camp because if it’s the special forces, there’s no time to spare.

We all know what that means – this isn’t just a regular raid, a major incursion is under way.

Midnight

We’re crowded next to each other, the children crying and confused.

“Where’s Farid? Where’s Farid?” Lulu asks.

She always asks for her father when she’s scared.

“I want him here now!” she demands as the gunfire comes faster and more intense. At this point, she’s screaming uncontrollably.

We all try to comfort her, but she senses our stress, she sees our body language, our trembling legs.

I try to distract her with a game of counting to 10, which I pretty much always do. Sometimes it works, and other times it doesn’t.

We hear from my brothers. They’re out, safe for now.