Untitled - Part 1

Here’s part of a short story that i'm currently writing and which is still in progress. Initiated by severe boredom and ketidaktahunakbuatapaan. It includes extracts from the report my group and I did for our elective posting in the Palestinian refugee camp Hospital when i was in my fourth year of medical school. The "other" parts are a mix of fiction and umm true life accounts(haha!). Much gratitude goes to the group for accompanying me there. Tell me what you think ;P

I had just finished folding the last of my garments and placing it into my so-called cloth for a backpack. It was a pink t-shirt, written on it “aloha” given to me during my family vacation to Hawaii. i quickly unfolded it and spread it out infront of me between my too hands and tears started rolling down uncontrollably. “I can’t do this anymore”, i wept.  Memories came soaring through my mind so real as if a video was being played in rewind within my eyes. The pressure was unbearable. I couldn’t bear to be the burden that i am to my parents any longer. Being in this worn-down house left me to feel like a nuisance. How useless can a daughter be when all she is is that useless extra head to feed without any contribution to the family? I am a parasite. Lower than dirt. I deserved nothing more than the clothes I bore on my back. 

Struggle mounted since the movement and occupation of unwanted forces into our territory. A massive exile of about 750'000 Palestinians took place following the creation of the state of Israel in 1948. Those who were wealthy emigrated abroad while the poorest (farmers, construction workers and nomads mainly) remained near the borders in the neighbouring countries of Lebanon, Syria, Jordan and Egypt. Holding firm on UN General Assembly Resolution 194 (right to return to Palestine), most Palestinians have not wished to integrate in host countries over the years.

Originally, there were 16 registered Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon. However, currently, only 12 camps are left, the rest were either destroyed or have evacuated due to the several wars that have occurred in the past. Today, all 12 official refugee camps in the Lebanon suffer from serious problems such as no proper infrastructure, overcrowding, poverty and unemployment. Palestine refugees in Lebanon account for only 10% of the population in Lebanon, but unlike Palestine refugees in Syria or Jordan, Palestinian in Lebanon are considered foreigners, as a matter of fact, they do not have social and civil rights, and have very limited access to the government’s public health, educational facilities or social services. The majority rely entirely on UNRWA as the sole provider of education, health and relief and social services. 

We were literally forced out of our righteous land into someone else’s unwelcomed land. They enjoyed our presence just as much as we enjoyed being there. We were as welcomed as rats are at a dinner table. With no monetary aid and the implementation of the new law restricting our kind from working in 72 trades and professions, we were left virtually belly-up. The family is barely able to hold things together, let alone be together in hard times like these. I detested every minute of my life. Thoughts of ending it all was a daily norm, however conscience and belief have managed to keep me alive hitherto. 

I scanned the room looking for any essentials that I may have forgotten and suddenly thought to myself “can i really do this?”. I knew what i had to do regardless of what the answer to that question may be.  I flipped open my family photo album and removed a photo of myself from it. The photo was of me in my school uniform with my fingers held up in the shape of an embarrassing ‘V’ representing peace. I grabbed a pen and noticed my hands trembling as i wrote,

Dear mom and dad,

I can’t stand to torture you any longer with my existence. I will be back as soon as i’ve made something of myself. Please stay alive for me as i will for you.

Love,

Your daughter.

I grabbed the last of my items and swung my bag over my shoulders. It was heavier than i expected. Everything seemed too precious for me to leave behind. I’ve always had the problem of being unable to throw gifts away, no matter how useless they may seem to others; any gift is valuable to me and carries a treasure chest of memories. I’m a bit of a romantic when it comes to keeping junk. i got that bad habit from my old man. 

A loud crack echoed throughout the house as i pushed open the wooden plank for a room door. I crept down the dark and damp corridor which was barely sheltered with a roof allowing the rain to leave it’s stench after every visit. The pin drop silence made my footsteps seem like an elephant stomping on the keys of a large piano. I passed by the unclosed door of my parents room. My baby brother was sleeping in my mother’s embrace. I snuck in and gave him a peck on the cheek in hopes that he wouldn’t startle and arouse the whole house.  I bade farewell to my parents in my heart and whispered a prayer as i left. I’m definitely going to miss them, but i needed to be strong. I need to do this.

I opened the front door which despite being padlocked 3 times was as breakable as glass. I put on the only pair of shoes i had which were as worn out as my house and started to make foot. The alleys were dark and gloomy, solely lit by the moon which was partially obscured by the overhead mess of electricity wires.  I made my way through the narrow and slippery pathways which were made to be complicated in order confuse the enemies during times of war. We refugees would never get lost though, as we knew the alleys like the back of our hands. We knew every single back road or underground path in the whole camp. There were no roads in between the houses of the camp; however the alleys were used by pedestrians as well as motorcyslists. I turned the corner a meter past the grocery store and nearly made myself visible to the resident guard on duty that night. The males of each family who’ve come of age would take turns at guarding the camp working shifts for as long as 36 hours. Tonight it was a familiar face. Ahmad; We’ve known each other since i can remember. Saying that he had a crush on me would be a complete understatement as to date i’ve rejected about 6 proposals from him and still counting. I was never interested though. I had more important things to focus on in my life. The bags that his eyes had been carrying caught my attention. I wondered how many sleepless nights he’s braved just to keep the camp safe. I whispered a prayer for him and moved on hoping that he’d doze off just for a few seconds enough to allow me to pass by him unnoticed. I continued to make foot towards the back exit of the camp. Only us refugees knew of this exit and it was meant to remain that way; a secret to the outside world. There was another guard posted at the exit. How was i supposed to escape being caught twice? Before frustration managed to surge the look of pure relief swept over my face as it appeared to be another familiar soul; my cousin to be exact. He was one of my best friends. I confided in him for nearly everything. I’ve even mentioned to him about this “plan” in one of our previous discussions. He knew that i was serious, but i don’t think he knew that i actually had the guts to go through with it. Well, today would be proof that i’m not just all talk and no action. I tried to remain elusive but i knew (will complete this sentence later.. i’m too tired to think now haha)

the narrow alleys

^the electricity mess

^the food that gave me prolonged AGE *blushes* hahaha

^ tired from walking :( *an embarassing peace sign*

^i like this photo :D

^a wounded building

^This building lost 20 litres of human beings and eventually succumbed due to hypovolaemic shock secondary to these gunshot wounds.

Note: I haven’t proofread this yet.. so please disregard the many2 mistakes and typos. Also, much to my disappointment, it lacks the meticulous description that i'd like it to have this is basically just a stem (excuses! haha) will add the branches later inshaAllah. (why is the last paragraph so long? baru perasan.. urrggh whatever..) Oh and so far, it remains untitled. Tengah mengalami writer's block and, as usual, lack of oxygenation to my brain. I'm oncall tmrrw. Nite2 :D