Americans Can Do the Right Thing: A Gazan and an American Write About the Future

Abubaker was born in Gaza and met Danaka from the U.S. online during the genocide. As Danaka’s country declared ethnic cleansing on his hometown, they reflect on their hopes for the future.

Rewinding back eight years, I was studying American history that rejected slavery and dehumanisation. The American people’s spine inspired me to clinch freedom, no matter the cost. It instilled several great values in me, including self-determination and hope.

As I went over the lines, Martin Luther King and his people defined freedom — the light of the candle that I’ve been searching for under the depths of my endless pain in Gaza. Before I awoke from my slumber, these two letters, for me,stood for “The United Spirit” of the world.

When the genocide in Gaza began, it was clear from the beginning that the U.S. was the other hand that was killing and torturing me and my people. At some point, I felt like it was only America. A deep sense of wrath was evoked inside me, and I couldn’t help thinking, “Why?” “Aren’t we the occupied?” “Isn’t the U.S. the land of the free?”

I couldn’t find answers as Joe Biden wasn’t squandering any chance to support Israel in every way, especially in bombing children and women. Millions of Americans stayed silent, and even some backed and manufactured the Israeli narrative to promote killing innocent people. Even though half of Gaza's population are children, it's like it didn't matter.

After 15 months of genocide Joe, I honestly didn’t derive hope from Trump’s inauguration. I expected him to be even worse. He was selling my homeland live on air when he brokered the “The Century Deal” with Arab countries in his last presidency. My sister Danaka was in Palestine right after Trump moved the embassy to Jerusalem in 2018, which is just a microcosm of his latest plots. His blood is drenched in colonialism and imperialism.

The emanated notion then was: I am free, and the world is occupied. Freedom is the light you share with people in the dark. This colonial project has stolen the world’s freedom but not mine.

Trump’s announcement was a joke because 15 months of relentless bombardment and mass murder couldn’t take me out. Thousands of bombs were rained upon us to wipe us out but couldn’t. His words wouldn’t make it out of the White House to even reach Gaza.

But for fellow human beings in America, the ones who were protesting and boycotting for months, what would you do?On what basis did you elect Trump? Wasn’t he inaugurated to make America, not Gaza, great again? Has he fooled you?

For over 15 months, your support was vital. I can’t conceal my love for you. But it was hurting me all the time, “Why couldn’t you go on a global strike?” “Why couldn’t you stop your lives for me and my people for just a few days?” You could do it, but you ignored it because your lives matter and mine doesn’t.

Think about it for a second and Imagine if I were you and my president declared that ethnic cleansing scheme, would you think I’d be silent? You’re wrong. I’d be the first to stand in his face and oppose his plan. I would sacrifice everything for you because we’re the roots of hope. That’s how we must be.

Finally, my heart lies in the home of every American who showed me solidarity and love throughout the genocide. I won't forget you because you’re the leaves of my yellow rose. And we see hope in you. But this time, Americans must be together to free themselves from the corruption their administration has spread across the planet.

For me and Palestinians here in Gaza, we won’t leave. For you, it is your last chance to erase your 15-month black helplessness. You can’t let your government pass this ethnic cleansing scheme under your naked minds. I always wanted to hear from someone around my age in the United States and know how they think about my struggle and I couldn’t find anyone better than Danaka.

Around the same time Abubaker was studying American history, I was in Palestine and went one day to a shop in East Jerusalem to buy a scarf. The shop owner rightly identified me as an American and told me a story about his son living in Gaza.

He hadn’t seen his son in years and told me about Israel’s bombing campaigns and his family’s struggle to have proper access to food and clean water. As I was leaving, he said, “It would be really good if Americans would read more and maybe do something to show you care about our lives.” Every time I stepped outside, young Israelis were toting massive guns and setting up makeshift checkpoints outside Bab al-Amoud.

It makes me sick that he hasn’t seen his son even after all these years. Since the outset of the genocide, I’ve been thinking a lot about grief. My mom died when I was young, and I know how it feels to lose someone that makes up your whole world. But I don’t know what it’s like to have someone you love taken from you because the most powerful entities in the world deemed you and your family subhuman.

Every video I see of fathers weeping over the bodies of their loved ones, my heart breaks into a million pieces. And every video I see of Palestinians in Gaza celebrating life puts my heart back together again.

After 15 months of heartache, my new president announced plans to ethnically cleanse Gaza. My constant worry for Abubaker and everyone in Palestine is that Americans with kind hearts fail to meet this moment with decisive action.

Trump’s announcement shouldn’t reap hopelessness from Americans who have taken action for Gaza. But because our traditional forms of protest didn’t end Israel’s war, I’m really afraid it will.

Our resistance to oppression has to match the intensity of the oppressors – it will be hard, we won’t get what we want right away, and we have to reject our expectation of instant gratification. Wanting freedom for the global south that’s crushed under the boot of our country’s greed isn’t the same as ordering something from Amazon.

I know watching Elon and Trump parade through Washington DC doing whatever they want might make Americans seem useless, but what are our feelings for Palestinians who have lost everything? If Gazans have hope, who are Americans to feel hopeless?

Palestinians don’t want to leave their homeland, and they shouldn’t have to. If our government is willing to spill the blood of two million people to turn Gaza into a resort, it’s perhaps the time to take more responsibility than ever for the crimes of our government.

To my fellow Americans: When your children ask you what you did when your president announced a campaign to ethnically cleanse Gaza, will you be content telling them that you didn’t feel like you could change anything, so you did nothing? For our fellow humans in Gaza, will you stand up for them?

In a future where Palestine is free, Abubaker and Danaka would probably spend their time talking about football or anything else twenty-somethings fancy. Instead, Abubaker tries to survive his people’s genocide, and Danaka’s country funds it and aims to ethnically cleanse him and his people. Both see their solidarity as bound to one another as Muslims and as human beings. We promise to be the change the world needs.