The Electronic Intifada 19 July 2024
A tribute to Refaat Alareer at a student encapment in the Belgian city of Ghent. (Nicolas Maeterlinck / Belga via ZUMA Press)
Refaat Alareer was carrying cans of fava beans and chickpeas in his bag.
He brought them to his children at the school where they were taking shelter. His wife Nusayba was baking bread at the time, using some flour that the family had recently managed to buy.
Refaat pulled her aside for a brief conversation. It was rare that they could have a moment in private amid the genocidal war Israel had declared on Gaza.
From his pocket, Refaat produced a piece of chocolate. He implored Nusayba to eat it herself, rather than giving it to the children, as she usually would.
It would be the last time Nusayba and her children saw Refaat alive.
On 6 December, Refaat was one of many people from his extended family killed in an Israeli airstrike targeting his sister Asmaa’s Gaza City apartment.
Refaat, a well-known teacher and writer, had gone to stay with Asmaa soon after receiving a threatening phone call. The caller – claiming to be from the Israeli military – had said they knew the location of the school where Refaat was sheltering.
Israel’s war machine had directly harmed Refaat in the past.
He wrote about how he was injured by the occupation in a chapter titled “Gaza Asks, When Shall This Pass?” That was his contribution to the book Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire.
During the current genocidal war Refaat’s daughter Lina had pleaded with him to go on television less frequently. “It’s dangerous,” she said.
Refaat listened to her.
“But it was useless,” she said. “He couldn’t stop.”
According to Lina, Refaat constantly wrote, sent messages, made phone calls and did interviews.
Nusayba recalled how the family had previously taken shelter at Rantisi children’s hospital in Gaza City.
“The internet was very weak, so he walked to al-Shifa hospital, risking his life to upload a recording or send a text,” she said. “When Refaat had a message, he was determined to deliver it.”
Refaat was devoted to his family.
“His giving knew no bounds, neither material nor emotional,” Nusayba said. “And it was always without expectation or condition.”
“He was exceptionally affectionate, always reminding our children to thank me for any meal I prepared or other effort I went to,” she said. “He would urge them to say, ‘bless your hands, Mama, thank you.’”
Even amid Israel’s attacks on Gaza, Refaat “wouldn’t let a birthday pass without marking it,” Nusayba added.
Passion for education
Refaat had a strong sense of humor.
When the couple were engaged, Refaat handed Nusayba what appeared to be a gift. When Nusayba opened the box, “there was a fake ring inside,” she said.
“After laughing at my reaction, he pulled out the real ring from his pocket, and we laughed together. He loved jokes and pranks.”
Nusayba fell silent. “We have forgotten our lives before the war,” she said.
As befits a teacher, Refaat was passionate about education: both of his students and his own children.
“Dad was always delighted when I told him I’d read a book,” Lina said. “He always gave me a reward each time I finished one.”
Nusayba recalled a visit to a book fair at the Rashad al-Shawa Cultural Center – which has been destroyed during the current war.
“I told the kids they could each get one book,” she said.
“But they all returned with five or six each. Refaat was overjoyed.”
Refaat hailed from Shujaiya. Although often described as a suburb of Gaza City, it contains much farmland.
Refaat participated in olive harvesting. While his children still complain that the harvests were exhausting, their mother has fonder memories.
“Those were sweet days,” Nusayba said. “I loved our trips to our land in Shujaiya more than going to the beach but the kids didn’t.”
Refaat became a grandfather posthumously.
Israel killed Abd al-Rahman – the grandson he never got to see – in April, along with the baby’s parents Shymaa (Refaat’s daughter) and Muhammad.
“Shymaa had the tenderness of her father’s heart,” Nusayba said, adding that their daughter was a gifted artist.
“Shymaa was always here after her father’s assassination and she tried to support her younger brothers and sisters,” Nusabya added.
“Her husband Muhammad visited us every day to check if we needed anything. Muhammad felt that it was his duty to stand with us and he did it well.”
Refaat’s family have had to stay in various locations amid the current war.
They were forced out of their home in October. Israel bombed the building where they lived in Tel al-Hawa, a Gaza City neighborhood.
Our conversation with the family’s surviving members was interrupted by the delivery of water to an area where they are now sheltering.
Ahmad, Refaat’s son, rushed to tell his mother that they must collect some water.
That prompted Nusayba to remark on the similarities between Ahmad and his father.
Ahmad was “always accompanying” Refaat to farmer’s markets in Khan Younis, southern Gaza, she noted.
“They’d buy green almonds and Armenian cucumbers in large quantities and distribute them to neighbors, friends and relatives,” she said. “Refaat loved feeding those around him.”
Nusayba is finding it hard to accept that she will never see Refaat or Shymaa again. She speaks of “deep grief” and “endless loss.”
The fact that Refaat’s name has appeared on placards at protests in many countries is a testament to his enduring legacy.
Refaat summed up his philosophy in the aforementioned chapter “Gaza Asks: When Shall This Pass?”
“It shall pass, I keep hoping,” he wrote. “It shall pass, I keep saying. Sometimes I mean it. Sometimes, I don’t.”
“And as Gaza keeps gasping for life, we struggle for it to pass, we have no choice but to fight back and to tell her stories. For Palestine.”
Asmaa Abdu and Ahmed Nehad studied and worked with Refaat Alareer in Gaza.
