The Life and Death of Naji Al-Ali
Al-Salam Alikom!
My name is Hanzalah. In case you are wondering what Salam Alikom is; it is the Islamic way of saying halloo and it means "Peace be upon you!”. Well, as I told you my name is Hanzalah, which stands for a small bitter desert bush. I bet you are saying; what was my father thinking when he named me?
My father is Naji Al-Ali. I was born ages ago, to be exact since the beginning of strong and weak, rich and poor, and justice and injustice. Which is strange in a way since my father was born in 1937.
But actually he is not really my father he just adopted me. You see, my father is a Muslim Palestinian who was born in Palestine before the emergence of Israel. He was just a kid when he fled his house in 1948 fearing the Zionist massacres. His family was a middle class family, which was traumatized by the war and turned into refugees living in tents on the border of what used to be their home. Naji never forgot how his mother was full of hope in returning to her house again believing the radios' promises; that they will be back in a fortnight. She kept her house key around her neck till her death like many Palestinian women.