UNICEF estimates that 1,000 children in Gaza have had limb amputations. Read more about Gaza's children grow up with grief and trauma 

My grandmother, a survivor of the April 1948 massacre, died recently. Read more about Deir Yassin makes a mockery of Israel's "never again" pledge  

My family’s roots run deep in a village brutally attacked by Zionist forces on 9 April 1948. Read more about The scars of Deir Yassin and our determination to survive 

Thirty-seven members of my grandmother’s family were killed by Zionist forces on 9 April 1948. Read more about We must never forget the massacre in Deir Yassin 

As she exits Palestine, Dina Elmuti reflects on the oppressive apparatus that surrounds her, and on the growing global struggle to break through it with something stronger, our humanity. Read more about The most powerful weapon is our humanity  

Three weeks after saying goodbye to Palestine, with the pictures and faces of all those I met at Aida still fresh in my mind, I received a much-needed wake-up call that profoundly changed my life in ways I never could have imagined or expected. Dina Elmuti writes for The Electronic Intifada. Read more about I refuse to be complicit 

“Deir Yassin,” the imperishable words of my grandmother continue to resonate with me each day for she made me promise to never forget, and that’s a promise I intend to keep to her. Dina Elmuti writes on the anniversary of the Deir Yassin massacre. Read more about Deir Yassin's inextinguishable fire 

My family and I spent the hot August day among energetic activists, welcoming families and curious children all more than willing to drop whatever they were doing to show us around the refugee camp they had all come to call home over the years. It’s at places like Aida where one’s life is put into perspective. At least, mine certainly was, starting with the first family we were fortunate enough to visit. Dina Elmuti writes from Aida refugee camp, occupied West Bank. Read more about Courage and resistance at Aida refugee camp 

Stepping out of the taxi cab and onto the gravel road, I walked towards the notorious Huwwara checkpoint near Nablus in the northern West Bank. To my left, I passed throngs of people waiting in lines barely inching along in the blistering summer heat, awaiting the apathetic wave of an Israeli soldier’s hand to be let through. Dina Elmuti writes from Nablus, occupied West Bank. Read more about The real meaning of hope