I have long relied on writing as a means to express my feelings and experiences, serving as my way of connecting with others. This poem reflects the harsh realities we face during the ongoing genocide in Gaza.
After seven months of living in a tent in the southern sector, having “lost” our home in Gaza City and our longtime family home in Khan Younis refugee camp in the Israeli onslaught, my father decided to cultivate the land as a form of resilience and belonging. This effort also aimed to provide some crops amidst the blockade imposed by the Israeli occupation, which restricts our access to essential food supplies. We grew peppers, tomatoes, eggplants, arugula, okra, molokhia (jute leaves), and watermelons near our tent. Mint and basil, deeply tied to the essence of our land, are indispensable in our diet.
A young man named Mohammed Hammad cultivates land in northern Gaza despite severe water shortages and dangerous conditions, distributing the harvest to those in need. This resilience further inspired my poem and demonstrates that the land fights alongside us, refusing to succumb to destruction, just as we continue to cultivate it amidst the ruins of our martyrs.
The earth yields its fruit,
Defying siege and hunger,
Defying the occupation.
Tomatoes sprout,
Peppers and eggplants,
Despite cut-off water,
Despite forbidden shells.
Mint and basil’s fragrance wafts,
The scent of homeland
In the land of peace.
Despite the tents’ heat,
Children’s displacement,
And loss of dreams,
The earth yields its fruits,
Feeding its children,
North and south,
Refusing starvation.
The earth brings forth vegetables,
And fruits,
Watered by martyrs’ blood.
It fights with its soil,
Holding warriors’ remnants,
Steadfast in death,
Defying weapons,
Defying steel.
Our people plant,
And eat from our land’s soil.
The earth fights side by side,
With its sea, with its brave resisters.
It grows patience,
Quelling children’s hunger,
Silencing mothers’ tears,
Easing men’s burdens.
Only in Gaza,
The earth fights alongside its people.
• First published in the Electronic Intifada