I AM REEM - Soul of my Soul

Contributed by: Muqadas Ghumman

I am Reem, I am 4 years old, and my brother Tarek is 6. We left this world to join Ibrahim in his verdant garden with colors of spring but I left a piece of me in this world to spread the light of truth. You must have heard of the love tale of my grandfather, Khaled and me. He stood in front of the camera and kissed my eyes and uttered the words that would resonate the world forever, “she is the soul of my soul.” Little did he know these words would spread like a wildfire. The internet quickly bombarded with videos of people expressing their sorrow over my grandfather’s affliction. My brother and I were the price paid, amongst other 11,000 children, to awaken the conscience of people around the globe. Our blood and lifeless bodies gave life to this world which was slowly dying. Compassion was blown into the souls of many. We were not separated from our grandfather and forever heartbroken mother without a cause. My lifeless body was kissed by my grandfather to crumble the superiority of the West.

Children our age love the sea, we love fruits, kebabs, we love to play, laugh and most of all we love to feel safe in our homes but for children of Gaza, “safe homes” are demolished over their little bodies. My brother and I were sleeping next to my mother when our house was bombed and our bodies crumbled. My grandfather still visits the house and recalls the entire incident. My mother survives but can't stop thinking about us. She longs to hug us, embrace us and kiss us. But we were chosen as a sacrifice to change the status quo of the materialistic world. I hope you will recompense our loss and sacrifice. I hope your hearts will remember my grandfather’s kissing my lifeless eyes. I hope you will remember my mother’s shattered heart. I hope my soul will put soul into your bodies. I hope you will see the tyranny. I hope you will stand on the right side. I hope our lives become beneficial to you. I hope my grandfather’s words resonate with you and you do not stop until you change the world. We will never forgive you if my grandfather's tears are not compensated with the death of Western cruelty and replacement of Middle Eastern Arab rulers. Let our blood give life to the baren humanity. Let us bear fruit. Do not forget us. We are not numbers.

I know we made an impact because many hearts were shattered because of us. Many eyes shed tears for us. Here is Jena from Britain reacting to my grandfather’s last meeting with me, “I don't know who all has seen the moment, but it is something that will play in my head for the rest of my life, asleep and awake. There was a group of people preparing the children that had been martyred and he was standing there, he was holding her with such tenderness. He brushed his beard over her forehead in such a way that you knew made her giggle, it was probably a tease between the two of them. She loved her papa and he loved her very much. He held her close to him and he spoke and then he pulled her back on bit, then he opened her eyes to look at them, and he kissed them, then he kissed and he rocked her and he whispered to her and smiled and then he laid his soul and he watched her to be wrapped in a shroud and in plastic, her name was Reem and she is one of over 4000 (the number now is 11000) children and one of the 10s and 1000s of the Palestinians. I wish I could know all of their names. I will never forget that moment and I will never forget him. What have we become?’’

She questions humanity. What have we become? You must continue to question. What have we become? Is this how we want to continue to live?

I know my grandfather, Khaled, deserves a tribute for keeping us alive in the world although we left it. We were sacrificed but who suffered? My grandfather. He never did anything without me. He was always playing with me. I was truly the soul of his soul. He would bring me anything I would ask. We spend days and nights together. I ran to him whenever he entered the house. We shared the same birthdate. I would pull his beard. My brother and I left and made an impact but I also wonder, was it my blood that made an impact or was it my grandfather’s aura? His compassionate and kind aura breaks the false stereotypes of Muslim men across the globe. Don’t be sad grandpa, we are proud of you. Your compassion was not limited to our lives. Grandpa, your resilience and grace moves the world. Do not stop. Your words of kindness to a child who lost her leg is spreading compassion in a tyrant world. The light of compassion is being lit by your words. You are shedding the darkness of oppression and tyranny. I know you are making a change because of the words of Shaun King,

“Millions of people are obsessed with a Palestinian grandfather named Khaled, the grandfather of his soul, Reem. I’ve seen my mother who is a 70-year-old white woman ask me, “how is Khaled doing?” Everything about him he is a walking counter to every lie ever told about Palestinian men, the man is an embodiment of not just peace, he has an aura that has stopped people in their tracks and as we watched it and saw man with a full beard and a turban which has been used to demonize Muslims and Arabs in every action movie ever made, as we saw a man that resembled the enemy in every mainstream action movie in the past 30 years instead have a piece, have a depth. It was clear Khalid alone was stronger than the propaganda machine of Israel. Just him, all by himself, there is no lie that the American media or Israel could ever tell that would be stronger than Khaled.”

Thank you for directing your pain to spread the truth. Your pain is spreading the light and shedding the darkness. You did not let your pain go to waste. Nothing is stronger than Khaled, my grandfather.

'If I Must Die, Let It Be a Tale' - Reefat Alareer (Deceased Palestinian Poet)