Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that a refugee from Gaza would end up living with us in Vancouver, but that happened in February 2023. His name is Mohammed Al Zaza. Strangely it rhymes with “Gaza”, the city he called home that is now reduced to rubble. In August 2011, just before his fifteenth birthday, a bomb launched from an Israeli drone changed his life forever. He and his young cousin, Ibrahim, were playing soccer on the street when they were hit by a missile that destroyed their home. Ibrahim died from his wounds. Mohammed was sent to a hospital in Tel Aviv, where he underwent more than twenty operations to save his leg and arm as well as skin grafts for third degree burns, followed by a knee replacement and plastic surgery. There were days when he thought he would rather be dead. After almost two years he returned to his family in Gaza and managed to finish high school, but was in constant pain. Jewish Israeli friends who got to know and love him while he was in hospital in Israel helped him get to Turkey for further treatment. He could not go back to Gaza and spent five years in Turkey, mostly in hiding as he risked being deported to a refugee camp in Syria. He made two dangerous and unsuccessful attempts to get to Greece by sea. It is with the help of dedicated Israeli dissidents, members of the B’selem peace organization, that Mohammed eventually managed to apply for refugee status in Canada, co-sponsored by the Muslim Association of Canada and the Vancouver branch of Independent Jewish Voices. We have friends who belong to that association, and we offered to help out when they were looking for temporary accommodation for Mohammed on his arrival.
Sponsorship is about jumping the hoops of bureaucracy, painstaking time compiling documents, writing letters to MP’s, dealing with legal matters, and fund raising to satisfy Immigration Canada rules for a private sponsorship immigration. All of this only works with the commitment of people volunteering and working tirelessly behind the scene. It doesn’t end upon arrival of a candidate at the airport. Actually, it’s just the beginning of a long road to facilitate the adaption of a person who lived through hell. The follow up is equally tedious and complex while dealing with health authorities, medical and dental appointments, schooling, lodging and moral support. We were not part of the official sponsoring groups, but Mohammed stayed with us for eight months. This was followed by several weeks of hospitalization for another knee replacement, and a long recovery owing to a subsequent infection in his leg. Mohammed is now 27 years old and living independently in Vancouver. He has become a strong spokesperson for the people of Gaza, has made many friends, and is working valiantly to raise money to try to get some of his family out of Gaza, once that becomes possible.
Like us, Mohammed watches the news from inside Gaza on Al Jazeera. Seeing bombs and missiles systematically smashing buildings that he sometimes recognizes, destroying hospitals, schools, and camps where people were told to take refuge, witnessing the horror of seeing people desperately looking for safety, takes a toll on his spirit. His parents and all his large family (he had eleven siblings) are still in Gaza City, except for one brother who has not been seen since their house was bombed again (for the third time). They haven’t yet recovered his body from under the rubble. His wife and two young children are struggling to survive. The whole family had little resources to begin with, and now they have nothing. They are living on the street, under make-shift shelters, struggling to find clean water and enough food to prevent starvation. His parents do not have access to a phone. Mohammed managed to contact his father a few times through a friend, but communication is extremely difficult. On the last call, he heard that they are constantly suffering from Israeli military (IDF) intrusions, day and night, as they “mow the grass” in their sector. We all know now what this expression refers to, thanks to Israeli leaders like Netanyahu, Gantz and Smoldrich.
Mohammed is no supporter of Hamas, but he sees how the current treatment of Palestinians in Gaza and elsewhere can only lead to more hatred. His goal now is to raise enough money to get his parents and some of his siblings out of Gaza, when that becomes possible. Yet they would leave with regret, as Gaza is their land, their home, and leaving is exactly what the Israeli government wants all the inhabitants to do. Mohammed is a gifted linguist, a polyglot. While in hospital in Israel he mastered Hebrew with the help of nurses, doctors and Israeli friends – one of our Israeli friends told us he speaks it better than many Israelis! Spending five years in Turkey gave him plenty of time to master Turkish too. He is is now a good communicator in English, and speaking at various meetings in support of Gaza. He has started courses at Langara College to improve his written skills and hopes to be able to study psychology, with the aim of helping other refugees who have experienced the kind of trauma he has lived through.
Mohammed is still getting financial and social support from Independent Jewish Voices (IJV) and numerous Jewish and Palestinian friends living in Vancouver. This is the other side of the social dystopia we are all facing: Jews and Muslims (and atheists who are neither, like us) enjoying each other’s company and solidarity in Vancouver. It has been inspiring for my whole family and our friends. Before getting to know Mohammed, my wife and I would usually look at the six o’clock news and recriminate about the state of the world, while feeling powerless. Often we would switch it off, to “save our sanity”.
The mass media both filter and enhance reality, confusing or even numbing our feelings and too often our judgment. It’s understandable and unavoidable. Mohammed’s presence in our lives changed this to some extent. During the months he spent with us, the Middle East crossed the threshold of our house with its dramatic historical background. The Gaza tragedy wasn’t only about October 7th. The Jewish Shoah and the Palestinian Nakba are two faces of the same human tragedy repeating itself over centuries. The international community seems to be paralyzed (or complicit), faced with the monstrous mass murder of 180 000 human beings (according to a British medical magazine, The Lancet).
One could understand why Mohammed, a refugee 10 000 km away from his home and family, struggling to survive in a totally foreign environment and initially on his own, would despair. In spite of this he is showing amazing resilience and still hopes that the future will be better for his family and his people. Ben Gurion’s mantra, “A Land without People for a People without Land” will have to be replaced by “A Land without Peace for People seeking Peace”, if humans wish for a future without conflict in that part of the world. Hate is powerful but difficult to sustain forever. This said, Mohammed is more optimist than I am. He is also still young. Given the living hell he has gone through, he has chosen to reject cynicism while remaining anxious about the near future. The alternative is despair. Mohammed has proven that he will never give up. In the meantime, he knows that strength is to be found in community support and solidarity, whatever our background. He has taught us a lot, and we are grateful – but worried about his future and that of his family.
Anyone who wishes to know more about Mohammed, or how to contribute to getting his family out of Gaza, check the link to Gofundme “Urgent Rebuiding Hope: Support mY Family in Gaza” and an article in the Tyee (Dec. 12, 2003), “How a Palestinian Injured in a Drone Strike Came to Canada”. https://thetyee.ca/News/2023/12/12/How-Palestinian-Injured-Came-Canada/
