At about 8:30 A.M., my friend Salah al-Din came over to play in the square near my house, where most kids our age go to play. We played the role of the Arabs and our friends played the Israeli army. Two regular military jeeps were parked about 150 meters away. They were searching cars driving to the town of Tayasir. We didn’t pay them any attention because they were far away. About six soldiers were standing around the two jeeps.
At about 10:30, I saw one of the soldiers stick his head out of the roof of the first jeep and point his weapon at us. Right after that I heard a single shot, followed by two or three more. I saw Salah a-Din fall down without a sound. Blood was coming out of his chest. I tried to pick him up, but I couldn’t because he was heavy.
At that moment, a vehicle drove up from the east. The driver got out, picked Salah a-Din up and took him to the clinic. Then the first military jeep, from which they shot Salah a-Din, drove up to the spot he’d fallen. We ran away and hid in the yard of my house. We saw someone get out of the jeep and pick something up from the ground, perhaps the toy gun Salah a-Din had been holding.
My father told me later that Salah a-Din had been taken to hospital in Jenin. An hour and a half later, I heard over the loudspeakers that Salah a-Din was dead. They were calling the residents to come to his funeral. I felt great pain. Salah a-Din was my friend. We went to school together and played together. We were far away from the soldiers and nothing happened to cause the shooting. In the evening, my father came home and broke the toy gun I’d bought in the morning. He told me that Salah a-Din was dead because he’d been playing with a plastic gun.
Tubas, 20 January 2005
The testimony of Tawfiq Abu Muhsen, 14, from Tubas
The testimony was given to Salma a-Deb’i on 23 January 2005
I am in the eighth grade at the Tubas junior high. On Thursday morning, 20 January 2005, I woke up very early and was glad it was the first day of the holiday. I took five shekels from my father and five shekels from my mother and went to the toy store. I bought a plastic gun. All my friends play with toy guns. We like to play a game we call “the Israeli army against the Arabs”.
He took some money as a holiday gift from his father, his older sister and me. Then he went to his aunt, my sister, who lives next door, and she also gave him some money. Then he went with his friend Tawfiq Abu Muhsen and a few other kids the neighborhood to play together. I later learned they had gone and bought toy guns and that the army shot Salah while they were playing with them.
When I got to the hospital and went into the room where Salah a-Din was, I cradled him in my arms and looked at him. I asked him: “Why are you leaving me!” He opened one eye and looked at me, and I saw him move his lower lip. I told the doctors he was alive, and they said, “Yes, now we’ll treat him and he’ll get better.” I raised his shirt and saw a sticker on the middle of his chest. They asked me to leave the room and then the family took me back home. Half an hour later, they brought him home so I could say goodbye. I will never forget my last moments with him. He opened his eyes and looked at me as if he wanted to tell me something.
I later learned that the army had apologized for the incident. But what good is an apology to me! Even if they fill this house with apologies, what good will that do? Does it bring him back to me? The wound hasn’t healed, and I will never forget him.
Everyone still talks about Salah, especially his brothers and sisters. He was a kind-hearted boy and thought of everybody. A little before he was killed, I went into the kitchen and saw him putting rice in a bag. I asked him what he was doing, and he said that our neighbor was having a hard time and her husband had gone away, so he was taking her rice. He loved helping people. He was also a top student.
Three years ago, I made a pilgrimage to Mecca. When I was there, I saw Salah circle the Kaaba wearing the holiday clothes he was wearing on the day he was killed. He looked at me and grabbed the wheelchair I was sitting in to go around the stone, I could really feel and see him in front of my eyes. I cried throughout the entire ceremony.
After Salah died, I went to his grave every day or every few days. After a while, my sons stopped me from going. They were afraid I would go crazy or that something would happen to me. For the last three years, I haven’t been able to walk without help. Sometimes I go in the car as far as the cemetery gate, recite the Surah al-Fatihah for him and go back home. That is the only way I can get some comfort. There is nothing worse for a mother than her son’s death.
I cry every day for my son, who was killed in cold blood. He was just playing make-believe like other Palestinian kids. Some of the children were pretending to be the army and others were pretending to be Palestinian youths resisting the army with stones. I never imagined that game would become a reality and that instead of playing, my son would actually be martyred.
Shahrzad Abu Muhsen, Salah a-Din’s mother, 66, a widow and mother of nine, spoke with B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i this year and described life since her son was killed:
Salah a-Din was my youngest. We were very attached to each other. He was a very friendly boy and loved everybody. I lost him on the first day of ‘Eid al-Adha. That morning he was at home. He had bought two new outfits for the holiday, one for the first day and one for the others. That morning he was wearing one of the outfits – a blue shirt, jeans and new shoes. He kissed me and asked: “Mom, what do you think about these clothes?” I replied: “They’re very nice, but the shoes look big.” He said: It’s better that way, they’ll fit me next summer, too. Every time I buy shoes I grow out of them because I grow so fast.”
1. We received your complaint and are taking measures to examine it.
2. Once the inquiry is complete, we will update you on its results.
Letter to B’Tselem dated 14 March 2005 B’Tselem from Col. Liron Libman, Chief Military Prosecutor
An MPIU investigation was ordered. Upon completion of the investigation and after reviewing the findings, we will update you.
Letter to B’Tselem dated 7 February 2006 from Col. Liron Libman, Chief Military Prosecutor
The complaint was not located.
Letter to B’Tselem dated 12 September 2010 from Major Dorit Tuval, Deputy Advocate for Operational Matters