Bergen4Palestine holdt en minnemarkering for journalist Anas al-Sharif og alle palestinske journalister i Gaza drept av Israel.
Minnemarkering
Siste ordene til Anas al-Sharif
Kamerat fra Bergen4Palestine leste de siste ordene til journalisten Anas al-Sharif – før han ble myrdet av terrorstaten.
This is my will and my final message. If these words reach you, know that Israel has succeeded in killing me and silencing my voice. First, peace be upon you and Allah’s mercy and blessings.
Allah knows I gave every effort and all my strength to be a support and a voice for my people, ever since I opened my eyes to life in the alleys and streets of the Jabalia refugee camp. My hope was that Allah would extend my life so I could return with my family and loved ones to our original town of occupied Asqalan (Al-Majdal). But Allah’s will came first, and His decree is final. I have lived through pain in all its details, tasted suffering and loss many times, yet I never once hesitated to convey the truth as it is, without distortion or falsification—so that Allah may bear witness against those who stayed silent, those who accepted our killing, those who choked our breath, and whose hearts were unmoved by the scattered remains of our children and women, doing nothing to stop the massacre that our people have faced for more than a year and a half.
I entrust you with Palestine—the jewel in the crown of the Muslim world, the heartbeat of every free person in this world.
I entrust you with its people, with its wronged and innocent children who never had the time to dream or live in safety and peace. Their pure bodies were crushed under thousands of tons of Israeli bombs and missiles, torn apart and scattered across the walls.
I urge you not to let chains silence you, nor borders restrain you. Be bridges toward the liberation of the land and its people, until the sun of dignity and freedom rises over our stolen homeland.
I entrust you to take care of my family. I entrust you with my beloved daughter Sham, the light of my eyes, whom I never got the chance to watch grow up as I had dreamed.
I entrust you with my dear son Salah, whom I had wished to support and accompany through life until he grew strong enough to carry my burden and continue the mission.
I entrust you with my beloved mother, whose blessed prayers brought me to where I am, whose supplications were my fortress and whose light guided my path. I pray that Allah grants her strength and rewards her on my behalf with the best of rewards.
I also entrust you with my lifelong companion, my beloved wife, Umm Salah (Bayan), from whom the war separated me for many long days and months. Yet she remained faithful to our bond, steadfast as the trunk of an olive tree that does not bend—patient, trusting in Allah, and carrying the responsibility in my absence with all her strength and faith.
I urge you to stand by them, to be their support after Allah Almighty. If I die, I die steadfast upon my principles. I testify before Allah that I am content with His decree, certain of meeting Him, and assured that what is with Allah is better and everlasting.
O Allah, accept me among the martyrs, forgive my past and future sins, and make my blood a light that illuminates the path of freedom for my people and my family. Forgive me if I have fallen short, and pray for me with mercy, for I kept my promise and never changed or betrayed it.
Do not forget Gaza… And do not forget me in your sincere prayers for forgiveness and acceptance.Anas Jamal Al-Sharif06.04.2025
—–This is what our beloved Anas requested to be published upon his martyrdom.
12:25 am · 11 Aug 2025
Palestinske journalister drept av Israel
Aktivister og kamerater leste navnene på alle 181 palestinske journalistene IFJ har bekreftet og dokumentert drept av terrorstaten Israel per dato.
"Atombomben er redd for en agurk!"
When the milk is sour, it separates.
The next time you stop speaking,
ask yourself why you were born.
They say they are scared of us.
The nuclear bomb is scared of the cucumber!Naomi Shihab NyeSeparation Wall
Kamerater!
Å bringe noe så konkret, kjent og essensielt som melk inn i det harde språket av motstand, tvinger oss til å anerkjenne våre privilegiet av stillhet som avstand gir.
Det jeg nettopp leste, er den første strofen av diktet Separation Wall, og er en del av samlingen The Tiny Journalist av poet og journalist Naomi Shihab Nye. Mangen av dere kjenner kanskje til, eller har hørt, om Janna Jihad Ayyad –
At 7, making videos.
At 10, raising the truth flag.
At 11, raising it higher,
traveling to South Africa,
keffiyah knotted on shoulders,
interviews in airports.
You know gazing into a camera can be a bridge,
so you stare without blinking.Naomi Shihab NyeJanna
Og videre i Morning Song (for Janna) —
The tiny journalist will tell us what she sees.
Document the moves, the dust,
soldiers blocking the road.
Yes, she knows how to take a picture with her phone.
Holds it high like a balloon.
Yes, she would rather dance and play,
would prefer the world to be pink.
But it is her job to say what she sees, what is happening.
The tiny journalist notices action
on far away roads
farther even than the next village.They pretended not to see us.
They came at night with weapons.
What was our crime?
That we liked respect as they do?
That we have pride?She stares through a hole in the fence,
barricade of words and wire,
feels the rising fire before anyone strikes a match.She has a better idea.
Naomi Shihab NyeMorning Song (for Janna)
I diktet Facebook Notes skriver Naomi —
Many say to Janna–
Take care of yourself.
We are praying for you.
Janna, you are so brave!
You run outside,
our spirits go with you.
Others say–
you are too young to do this on your own.
Pushed forward as mouthpiece.
You have charisma,
so people use you as spokesperson.
What’s wrong with that?
Our letters to editors
trickled out for decades.
What good did they do?
You are the witness,
on-the-scene,
microphone in hand.You stand on the road to everywhere, asking–
“What is this?”
“What next?”
We carry you with us wherever we go,
folded document of hope,
unfolded flag,
unburdened alphabet, asking “why ?”.Naomi Shihab NyeFacebook Notes
Jeg vil avslutte med dikt som er ikke om henne, men om én ting Janna undrer seg over… og det handler om oss voksne og om 38 milliarder —
It’s hard to grasp
very big numbers and distant concepts.Like imagining what all our thoughts
might have been if we lived 300 years ago.
Would our thoughts be centered
on a goat
or six rocks piled together?
In those long-ago days,
would people be meaner to one another,
or will they be nicer?
I have no idea.
But sometimes I wonder
what 38 billion dollars could buy,
instead of weapons aimed against us,
and this is what comes to mind:
Eggs. Pencils.
Undershirts made of very soft cotton.
Ribbons. Radios. Shining flashlights.
Handmade clay plates.
Chocolates. Really soft pillows.
Baskets. Bracelets.
Running shoes.Naomi Shihab Nye38 Billion
Boikott Israel!
Fritt Palestina!!