Two days ago, on 23 January 2007, on the last day of school, I went to school and took a math exam. After that, at around nine o’clock in the morning, I met my two friends, Mahran and ‘Imad. We sat together for about 15 minutes. Mahran suggested that we leave school and look for work in Israel – anything but go on living in hardship in Gaza. ‘Imad and I agreed to the idea.
We arranged to meet at 10:00 P.M. in the Deir al-Balah city center. Mahran came by my house just before ten o’clock and we went on his bicycle to the city center, where we met ‘Imad. We left the bicycle with a friend of Mahran’s and set off on foot east, to the border with Israel. We got there at 11:30 P.M. When we were about 50 meters from the border, we hid behind some trees. We watched the border for an hour. There was an Israeli military jeep there and we were waiting for it to leave. At one point, we thought it was gone because we couldn’t see it anymore, but afterwards it turned out the jeep was still there with its lights off. We went up to the fence. We had no tools with us to cut the barbed wire and thought we’d have to climb the fence. We crawled on our bellies up to the wire and then got up quickly. Unfortunately, there was a gap in the wire and that made us think we could get through. That’s the reason Mahran was killed.
We went up to the gap, and then someone opened fire at us. My beloved friend Mahran was hit by a bullet. I heard him shout and recite the Shahada prayer. Then flares went up. I looked at Mahran and saw that he was bleeding from the stomach. His shirt was torn around the bullet wound. The three of us lay on the ground while the shooting continued. I was lying on my stomach and a bullet hit me in my right buttock. I called out quietly to ‘Imad and asked him if he was okay. He told me he’d been hit in the shoulder. He was about half a meter away from me. Mahran was lying right next to me because I hugged him after he died. I cried and asked him to wake up, but he was already dead.
After four or five minutes, the shooting stopped for a moment and one of the soldiers spoke to us in Hebrew, but we didn’t understand anything. We said loudly: “Help us, we’re bleeding and there’s nothing on us, we just want to work in Israel, not to carry out terrorist attacks.” The moment we spoke, the soldiers fired at us again. We were completely exposed. There was no shelter and a lot of flares in the sky. We lay there bleeding. The shooting lasted about twenty minutes.
Then one of the soldiers said to us in Arabic: “Go through the barbed-wire fence with your hands in the air.” We got up but saw no one. We crossed the barbed-wire fence, and only then did we see ten soldiers or so, about 20 meters away. They were on the other side of the electronic fence and were pointing their weapons at us. They ordered us to undress. We took off our clothes and stayed in our underwear. They demanded that we take that off, too. We were completely naked. We were trembling with fear and the intense cold of the night in the middle of winter. We stood like that for several minutes and then they ordered us to get dressed. It was hard to take our clothes off and put them back on because we were wounded and bleeding.
They ordered us to walk in their direction and climb the electronic fence. ‘Imad tried to climb it but couldn’t, because of his injured shoulder. I helped him climb the barbed wire, which was about three meters high. Then I climbed up and came down by myself, it was very hard. They told us to sit on the ground and put our heads between our legs. After less than five minutes they told us to walk, with them walking behind us and aiming their weapons at us. We walked east about fifty meters. Then they took care of us. One of the soldiers gave me first aid. He was wearing a green uniform and had a flashlight on his head. Another soldier treated ‘Imad. When they were done, they put me and ‘Imad in a military jeep and blindfolded us. The jeep started driving, and half an hour later they dropped us off to an Israeli military outpost and removed the blindfolds. Some of the soldiers at the post took photos of us, as if we were some curiosity. They took ‘Imad away, far from me. Later I found out that they had taken him to a hospital in Israel. I wasn’t taken to hospital and wasn’t really treated, even though my wound was very painful. They took me into a room.
At 6:00 A.M., an Israeli in civilian clothes came in. He must have been a security agency man. He asked me in Arabic how old I was and what my name was, and I told him. He asked: “Why do you want to enter Israel?” I told him I wanted to work in Israel. He offered me money, but I refused because I was sure he wanted me to work with Israeli security. He offered me again and I refused again.
Then they took me to another room, and at 9:00 A.M. ‘Imad arrived. At about 2:00 P.M., a group of soldiers came and one of them told us to get ready to go back to Gaza. They blindfolded us, put us in a jeep and drove us to the border gate near the al-Maghazi area. We passed through the gate, and people who were waiting there called an ambulance that took us to hospital in Deir al-Balah. The doctors ran tests and X-rays. Palestinian police officers who arrived at the hospital told us to come to the police station when we were released to tell them what happened, and we did. Now I’m at home and the days are passing, but I feel like I’m still living what happened.
Near the fence in the Gaza Strip, 24 January 2007
Testimony of ‘Abd a-Rauf al-‘Adini from Deir al-Balah
The testimony was given to Muhammad Sabah on 25 January 2007
I am a 10th-grader in the state school in Deir al-Balah. I live with my father, my grandmother and my aunt in a two-room house with a tin roof. My father is ill and unemployed, and my aunt supports us by working in a vegetable shop. We have no money, and I don’t get money to buy food when I go to school like other students, so I try to have breakfast at home before I leave. Only once a week, I get a shekel or two for myself. I also have no travel money, so I have to walk 1.5 km to school every day. If I had a bike, it would help. My best friends at school, Mahran Abu Nseir and ‘Imad Abu Sheikheh are better off, but not by much. I hang out with them at school and in the afternoon.
By morning, my fear grew. I went to the hospital to find out who was the boy who had been killed, and then it turned out to be my son Mahran. The moment I saw him was very difficult. I cried and cried and was in shock. Later, we prayed for his soul at the al-Furqan mosque in Deir al-Balah and went out in a procession to take him to the cemetery.
Mahran was my eldest son. In his spare time, he worked in agriculture to earn pocket money. He always helped with errands and grocery shopping. He had nothing to do with any organization, he didn’t belong to any of them and was not at all interested in politics. He loved to play soccer and run. He played for the youth soccer team at the a-Tarabut sports club in Deir al-Balah and also took part in running competitions. He was a quiet boy and everyone loved him.
I am very sad to say that since the incident, to this day, the occupation authorities have not bothered to investigate what happened. No one contacted us about the killing of my son. I had hoped that an investigation would be opened and that the soldier who killed my son in cold blood would be prosecuted and pay for his crime. I think they should have compensated us for the emotional and financial damage caused to us. But there was nothing, no trial and no accountability.
Zakaria Abu Nseir, Mahran’s father, 55 and a father of five, met with B’Tselem field researcher Khaled al-‘Azayzeh this year and talked about his son:
I am a member of the military intelligence apparatus that belongs to the Palestinian Authority in Ramallah. On 24 January 2007, a little after midnight, I was at home following, on my phone, a case of people who had crossed the border east of Deir al-Balah. That’s how I learned that the occupation soldiers had opened fire at three boys and hit one of them in the right hip, in the lower back, and that the soldiers left him there bleeding. He was martyred. I also learned that the two other boys had been arrested and that one was injured. In the meantime, I noticed that my son Mahran was not home, which was unusual. I became worried and started asking after him and looking for him. I sent a relative of mine to the al-‘Adini family, whose son is a friend of Mahran’s, and learned that their son wasn’t home either.
The case was closed after an examination by military officials.
At the time of the incident, three people were observed making their way, while crouching, towards the perimeter fence. One of the figures was observed holding something in its hand. In the area in question, an alert had been issued about the placing of an explosive device. When the three persons reached the fence, fire was opened in their direction. Subsequently, two of them were asked to remove their clothes to rule out suspected explosives. Thereafter, they received medical treatment in the field by a military physician. In light of the above, it was decided not to open an MPIU investigation.
Letter to B’Tselem dated 12 September 2010 from Major Dorit Tuval, Deputy Advocate for Operational Matters