On 29 January 2024, five-year-old Hind Rajab was brutally killed, along with her four cousins, uncle and aunt, by the Israeli military as they attempted to flee a neighbourhood in Gaza City. The two Palestinian Red Crescent paramedics who went to Hind’s rescue were also killed by the Israeli military.
Hind’s mother, Wesam Hamada, was talking to her on the phone as the little girl, with Israeli soldiers nearby, hid out of sight and pleaded to be rescued. The recording of Hind’s emergency call with the Palestinian Red Crescent volunteers was used as the basis of the Oscar-nominated film, “Hind Rajab’s Voice”.
At an international conference organized by The European Palestinian Network in Copenhagen, Denmark, Wesam Hamada tells Amnesty International about her daughter’s last words, why she feels compelled to keep Hind’s memory alive and her wishes for Gaza’s children.
What were some of Hind’s last words to you, and do you hold the world responsible for her terrible death?
I’m scared… come and get me.
She said a sentence that tore my heart apart: ‘Mum, they’re lying. Stay with me!’ At that moment, I realized the betrayal. An ambulance was sent to her. It didn’t make it. It was bombed. That means one thing: it wasn’t allowed to save a life.
I don’t blame the world’s population, but I hold the silence responsible. The silence that makes the crime possible and makes it easy to repeat it.
Hind’s story is unimaginably heart-breaking and devastating. Where do you find the strength to keep going?
I get my strength from Hind. She was so strong when she was trapped in the car for hours. She kept talking on the phone even though she was injured, freezing and hungry. She kept talking to stay alive. She tried to calm me down even though she knew she was surrounded by Israeli soldiers, there was gunfire, and she was in a very dangerous situation. She is much stronger than me.
What would you like the world to know about your daughter, Hind?
Hind was a very strong and smart girl. She wanted to be a doctor so she could heal children. Not only in Gaza, but all over the world. If Hind were alive today and she saw all the terrible things that are happening to the children of Gaza, she wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Even though a ceasefire was announced late last year, the suffering in Gaza continues. What are Palestinians in Gaza experiencing right now?
The first proof that the genocide continues every day is the many people who are being killed. My family and friends tell me that they can’t get what they need. There is no access to water, there is no electricity, food or medicine. The health system has collapsed and there is no access to education for children.
The genocide has not stopped, and normal life has not returned to Gaza.
Every woman, every child, every person in Gaza is still a target.
Why is it important for you to attend public events to speak about Hind and what she went through?
As the mother of Hind and Iyad, I have a big responsibility. I want to keep Hind’s voice alive, because it is not only her voice but the voice of all the children of Gaza.
It brings hope to the children of Gaza when they see that people are behind them. Not just with supportive slogans, but with real change. When emergency aid reaches them in Gaza and when hospitals and schools reopen.
Your daughter’s story is told in the Oscar-nominated film, The Voice of Hind Rajab. What does it mean to you that Hind is remembered in this way?
The film represents not only Hind’s story, but the stories of thousands of children in Gaza. More than 20,000 children have been killed in Gaza. The film documents this crime. And this documentation will be there for generations to come.
How has the strength and resilience of children in Gaza revealed themselves to you?
We were hiding in a basement with 75 other family members. The Israeli military was very close. The children were very hungry. They hadn’t eaten anything for nine hours. To keep the children quiet and make sure they would not be found by the soldiers, I promised that I would cook them a really good meal if we survived. At night, the Israeli military withdrew. But I couldn’t keep my promise because we had no more food. I apologized to the children many times. They simply replied that it was okay and that they would be fine.
What do you wish for the children of Gaza?
I am not asking for the impossible. I am asking for something very simple: that the life of a Palestinian child will be protected as if it was the life of your own child.
If the law cannot save a child, then it is a law that must be held accountable. And if the world only acts when the victim looks like its own children, then the world needs a new conscience.
Hind is no longer here, but her story is a responsibility. And a responsibility is not maintained with words, but with actions.
I ask you to imagine, just for a few seconds, the extent of the pain that mothers in Gaza bear when they lose their children. Imagine the bitterness of the pain, when you can’t save your child, or simply reach them, or know what their last moments were like. This pain lives in mothers every single day and with every breath they take.
