Workers from the Territories

Haitham al-Janazrah cannot work under corona restrictions, and his family is living off loans from neighbors and friends

Image
Haitham al-Janazrah: To combat the spread of the coronavirus, Israel barred Palestinians over 50 from entering Israel for work. My life has frozen since I stopped working.

Haitham al-Janazrah is a 51-year-old painter from al-Fawwar Refugee Camp, near Hebron. He is currently not working, as the restrictions Israel imposed since the coronavirus outbreak ban Palestinians over 50 from entering Israel for work. After several attempts to reach his workplace in unreasonable ways, he stopped trying. He is now sitting at home, impatiently waiting for the checkpoints to reopen and fearing for his wife’s health, as she needs medical care he cannot afford at the moment.

I am employed through a contractor to paint buildings in Beit Shemesh. Like everyone else, I bought my permit to work in Israel from permit brokers. It costs me 2,500 shekels (~710 USD) a month. Before the coronavirus crisis, I used to get to work through the Meitar checkpoint. Every day I would leave home at 5:00 A.M. and travel to Be’er Sheva, where there was a shuttle to my workplace in Beit Shemesh.

The travel took six hours a day, in addition to eight hours of work. It was a very long day. Even though I hardly saw my family during the week, I was happy to have a job and make a living. My wife has arterial occlusion. She is undergoing treatment and is supposed to have a complicated and costly operation.

After paying for the permit, food, and travel, I earned less than 200 shekels (~57 USD) a day. I preferred to work on holidays and vacations, despite the difficulty and fatigue, because for every day I didn’t work, I lost money, which made it harder to pay for our many expenses.

About 45 days ago, Israel announced emergency measures to combat the spread of the coronavirus, and barred Palestinians over 50 from entering Israel for work. On the first day after the ban, I tried to get in anyway, but the Israeli security forces didn’t let me through. I didn’t give up. For the next four days, I tried to reach my job again, but by the time I got to work, I was exhausted. I decided I couldn’t take it. I’m a grown man and I can’t run over hills. Since then, I’ve been at home, waiting for the coronavirus crisis to pass.

Today, after 40 days at home, I have no choice but to borrow money from friends and neighbors. Every time, someone gives me 200 shekels. My wife stopped going to Israel for treatments because it’s impossible to get referrals right now, and I’m very concerned about her health. I’m also worried she might get infected with the coronavirus.

I feel like my life has frozen since I stopped working. I don’t know where I’ll get the money to support the family. It’s very stressful. I’ve never been in such a situation before.

* The testimony was given to B'Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 21 April 2020 by telephone.

Suggested items

תמונת אילוסטרציה: חיילים מכניסים עצירים פלסטינים למחנה הצבאי מצדות יהודה בדרום הר חברון, 5.8.22. למצולמים אין קשר לאירוע המדווח. צילום: איתי פייטלסון, 5.8.22

A Routine Founded on Violence

Israeli soldiers detain Palestinians, including a 16-year-old boy, at a checkpoint, mistreat them, and steal their money

On Friday, 18 August 2023, at around 11:30 P.M., cousins Mahmoud (18) and Yihya (16) a-Nawaj’ah arrived at the Meitar checkpoint. They were traveling in a car belonging to a Palestinian citizen of Israel. The two were on their way back from Israel to their home in the community of al-Jawaya, which lies southeast of the town of Yatta in the South Hebron Hills. When they reached the checkpoint, Israeli soldiers had the driver and two passengers get out of the car and conducted body searches on them. The soldiers took their bags, cellphones, and a bracelet and ring Yihya was wearing. They also took 8,000 NIS (~2,100 USD) in cash, money the cousins had earned working and were carrying in their pockets. Next, the soldiers tied the hands of the three individuals behind their backs using plastic bags, covered their eyes with plastic bags, and placed them in a military jeep. When they asked where they were being taken, the soldiers told them they were going to the Beit Yatir checkpoint (a checkpoint near the Mezadot Yehuda military base). Once they arrived at the military base, the three were taken out of the jeep and seated on the ground. Throughout the night and until the following afternoon, the three remained on the ground, handcuffed and blindfolded. Even in the intense heat of the day, the soldiers denied them water, food and access to the bathroom. When they requested to sit in a more shaded area, the soldiers refused. They were also forbidden from contacting their families or a lawyer to inform them of their whereabouts. Later, the three were taken to a room in the military base where the plastic bags around their hands were replaced with zip ties – this time, in front of them – and the bags covering their eyes were replaced with cloth blindfolds. They were interrogated in Arabic and asked for their names, ages, how they entered Israel and what they were doing there. From there, they were taken to another military facility, where fingerprints were taken from all three while they remained handcuffed and blindfolded. The soldiers then separated the driver from Mahmoud and Yihya and later released him. Mahmoud and Yihya were put in a car and sat there for about half an hour. Then, after a short drive to the Beit ‘Einun roundabout on Route 60, which sits north of Hebron, the soldiers took them out of the car and told them that they were being released. Only after the two pleaded did the soldiers remove the handcuffs and blindfolds. They returned their cellphones and Yihya’s jewelry that had been taken during the arrest. When the cousins asked the soldiers about the money that was taken from them, the soldiers claimed it had been transferred to the police and then left. Mahmoud called his father, who came to pick them up and took them home after more than twenty hours without food or drink. The next day, Mahmoud and Yihya went to the Kiryat Arba police station to demand their money back, but the police officers referred them to the Border Police camp in the settlement of Telem. Upon arriving there, they were told to come back the next day. On 31 August 2023, the two contacted HaMoked: Center for the Defence of the Individual to file a complaint on their behalf with the police demanding their money be returned. B’Tselem field researcher Basel al-‘Adrah collected testimonies from the two cousins. Mahmoud a-Nawaj’ah (18), a resident of a-Jawaya testified: Ever since I finished school, I’ve helped support my family. In June 2023, I started working in the town of ‘Araba, inside the Green Line. I didn’t have a work permit, so I crossed in illegally. After about a month, my 16-year-old cousin Yihya a-Nawaj’ah joined me. On 18 August 2023, we decided to go home and paid a Palestinian citizen of Israel to drive us. At around 11:30 P.M., we reached the Meitar checkpoint. The guard there stopped the car and asked to see IDs. The driver showed them his ID, and I told them I didn’t have mine with me. Yihya said he didn’t have one because he’s sixteen and hasn’t gotten one yet. The guard instructed us to get out of the car and asked the driver to park it in the lot next to the checkpoint. A few soldiers made us move away from the car, and another soldier searched the vehicle with an electronic device. Meanwhile, the soldiers told me to call my parents and ask them to send my ID number or a photo. I tried calling, but no one answered. Yihya, the driver and I got taken into a room at the checkpoint, where our photos were taken, and then our faces were identified. Afterward, we were taken to a small cell, got physically searched, and everything that was on us was taken: our cellphones, our bags with all our clothes, the 5,000 NIS (~1,300 USD) I made in all the months I’d worked, and 3,000 NIS (~780 USD) Yihya had made that was on him. Then our hands were tied behind our backs with plastic bags, and we were blindfolded with plastic bags too. All three of us were put in a black military jeep. I asked where they were taking us, and one of the soldiers said: “Mezadot Yehuda.” After about a ten-minute drive, at around 12:30 A.M., we were taken out of the vehicle and sat on the ground inside a military base. I could feel cars zooming by very close to us. It was really scary, and I was very worried about what would happen, especially since no one in our family knew we’d been detained. I asked the soldiers if I could try calling someone from my family again, but they refused. When we asked for water and food, they refused that too, didn’t give us anything, and ordered us to shut up and not talk to each other, either. We asked how much longer we’d stay on the floor like that, and one of the soldiers said we had a lot more time. We were there all night. The next morning, about an hour and a half after we heard the call to dawn prayer, it got very hot. We couldn’t take the heat of the sun anymore and asked the soldiers to move us somewhere with more shade, but they refused. Around noon, it had become completely unbearable, and we asked them again and again if we could move, but they said no each time. At some point, I managed to take the plastic bag off my eyes, but within seconds, soldiers came over to put it back on and yelled at me that I wasn’t allowed to take it off. We sat on the ground handcuffed and blindfolded for 15 hours straight. Then, the soldiers brought us into a room in the base. They took the plastic off our eyes and covered them again with cloth. They also tied our hands tightly with zip ties – this time in front. They sat us down on chairs. Suddenly, someone I hadn’t seen began talking to us. He said his name was Khaled, and he asked each of us questions in mediocre Arabic. He asked for my name, my age, where I worked and how I entered Israel. He asked Yihya and the driver the same questions. After that, the soldiers put us back in the jeep, drove for about forty minutes, took us out again, and brought us into a room again, where they took our fingerprints while we were still handcuffed and blindfolded. After that, they put me and Yihya in a civilian car. I don’t know where the soldiers took the driver. We waited in the car for about half an hour before it started moving. A while later, we got dropped off and told we could go. They hadn’t taken off our blindfolds or untied our hands. They only did it after we begged them, and then we realized we were at the Beit ‘Einun roundabout. One of the soldiers gave us back our cellphones. We asked about our money, and the soldier said it was with the police, and then the soldiers left. I managed to take a photo of their license plate. That was at about 5:30 or 6:00 P.M. I called my father, and he came to pick us up. We were exhausted. Later, I called the driver, and he told me he had been released and that his friends came to pick him up, but that the soldiers confiscated his car. The next day, Yihya and I went to the police station in Kiryat Arba to get our money back, but they said our case was being dealt with in the Telem base. We went there, and they told us to come back the next day. The following morning, the Kiryat Arba police called me, and the interpreter asked me to tell him what happened, and how much money it was. I told him and said I was planning on going to Telem the next day to pick up my money. He told me they’d be in touch, but that never happened. Yihya a-Nawaj’ah (16), from Yatta, said: I was looking for work over the summer in order to have some pocket money for my last year of high school. My cousin, Mahmoud a-Nawaj’ah, got me a job where he works near ‘Araba in Israel, and I started working there on 15 July 2023. The first day of school was 20 August 2023, and I wanted some time to prepare, so we both left work on 18 August 2023. We left at around 9:30 P.M. with a Palestinian citizen of Israel who drove us for a fee, and at around 11:30 P.M., when we arrived at the Meitar checkpoint, the guard there detained us when he saw Mahmoud and I didn’t have IDs on us. The guy who was driving us showed the guard his ID, and the guard told Mahmoud and me to get out and the driver to park in the lot next to the checkpoint. The two of us got out of the car, and two soldiers led us through the lot. Then three more soldiers came, and one of them searched the car with an electronic device. The soldiers demanded to see IDs again, but we said we didn’t have them. They took the three of us to a room at the checkpoint, took our pictures in there, and then did a body search inside a small booth. They took our cellphones, and from me, they also took a bracelet and ring I was wearing, and the 3,000 NIS (~780 USD) I had made at work. They took Mahmoud’s 5,000 NIS (~1,300 USD), too. Then, the soldiers tied our hands behind our backs and blindfolded us with plastic bags. After that, the soldiers put us in a jeep and after a 10-minute ride, we were taken out and sat on the ground inside a military base. It was scary because I couldn’t see anything, and I didn’t know what the soldiers were planning. I felt cars zooming right next to me. I asked the soldiers to go to the bathroom a few times, but they didn’t let me. They also didn’t give us water or food, and they forbade us from talking to each other. Mahmoud and I asked to call our family or a lawyer, but one of the soldiers kept saying the same word every time: “forbidden.” About an hour and a half after we heard the call to dawn prayer, when the sun was already up, we asked them to move us to the shade, but they refused. Around noon, we couldn’t stand the scorching heat anymore – we had been there for 15 hours straight – but they continued to refuse our request to move to a shadier spot. At some point, they moved all three of us to a room in the base and replaced the plastic blindfold with a cloth one and the plastic bags tying our hands with zip ties; they put them in front this time. One of the soldiers tied my hands really tight, and it hurt. Then, someone who said his name was Khaled asked the three of us some questions in mediocre Arabic. He asked how old we were, where we worked, and how we entered Israel. After that, they took the three of us out of the room and put us back in the jeep. After a forty-minute ride, we were brought into another room where they took our fingerprints – even though our hands were still tied and we still had blindfolds on. They then put just Mahmoud and me in a car, and we waited for about half an hour inside it. After a short ride, the soldiers dropped us off and told us we could go, but they didn’t take off the handcuffs and blindfolds. We asked them to take them off, but one of them said they weren’t allowed. We didn’t understand why he wanted to leave us like that in the middle of the road, so we persisted until, finally, one of them untied our hands and took off our blindfolds. I felt relieved. They also gave us back our phones, and they gave me my bracelet and ring. They didn’t return the money they took from us, and when we asked for it, the soldier told us that the police had it. After that, they drove off, and Mahmoud called his father, who came to pick us up. We were so hungry and tired, and we just wanted to sleep.

5 October 2023

נביל ר'אנם. התמונה באדיבות המשפחה

Open-Fire Policy

Israel resumes ambushes of workers trying to cross known gaps in Separation Barrier; soldiers fatally shoot Nabil Ghanem (53)

Nabil Ghanem (53) lived in Sara, a village west of the city of Nablus. On Sunday, 19 June 2022, at around 10:00 A.M., he tried to cross through one of the gaps in the Separation Barrier near the Qalqiliyah DCO (Eyal) Checkpoint in order to enter Israel, where he worked without a permit, and collect money his employer owed him. As soon as he crossed the barbed wire fence on the eastern side of the barrier, Israeli soldiers who were lying in wait fired several shots at him and at other Palestinian workers who were with him. Ghanem was injured in the torso and was evacuated by soldiers to Meir Hospital in Kfar Saba, Israel, where he died of his wounds a short while later. Israel justified the shooting on the grounds that Ghanem had vandalized the barrier and tried to cross into Israel, and held the body until 23 June 2022. After Ghanem was killed, Israel revoked the work permits of two members of his family. Ghanem is the second Palestinian worker killed by soldiers while trying to cross the Separation Barrier into Israel in the last two months. On 8 May 2022, soldiers killed Mahmoud ‘Aram (27), a resident of Khan Yunis who lived in ‘Aqbat Jaber Refugee Camp in recent years, after, according to the military, he tried to cross the barrier near Far’on. He died of his wounds later that day at Sheba Hospital in Tel Hashomer, Israel. In his case, too, Israel held the body and only gave it back to the family on 11 May 2022. Over the course of four months, from April to July 2022, Israel implemented a lenient open fire policy by the Separation Barrier, permitting live fire at the lower body of Palestinians crossing – or trying to cross – it. The policy change, officially a response to several terrorist attacks by Palestinians who entered Israel via gaps in the barrier, increased the number of Palestinians wounded or killed by live fire in this period. According to media reports, in addition to Ghanem and ‘Aram, Israeli gunfire injured 15 Palestinians in April alone. In comparison, according to UN figures,* one Palestinian was wounded by gunfire near the barrier in the first quarter of 2022. B’Tselem has previously documented periods in which soldiers used live fire against Palestinians crossing or trying to cross through gaps in the Separation Barrier. Israel appears to periodically decide, for its own reasons, whether to allow thousands of Palestinian workers to cross through these gaps or try and stop them. The latter is enforced, among other things, by live fire. As B’Tselem has previously stated, whatever grounds Israel cites, opening live fire against Palestinians seeking to enter Israel through gap in the barrier – almost all of them laborers looking to work in Israel – is unlawful and cannot be justified. The soldiers are not operating on their own initiative, or at the behest of commanders on the ground; they are implementing a declared policy approved by senior officials. It follows, therefore, that no one is held accountable for the injuries and the killings, and that the MPIU investigation launched, according to media reports, after the killing of Ghanem will also result in whitewashing. Y.‘A. (54), a resident of Sara, met Nabil Ghanem and his son at Qalqiliyah Checkpoint and set out with them to find a way to cross the barrier. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i on 2 July 2022, he recounted: On Sunday, before dawn, I met Nabil Ghanem and his son Mu’tasem at Qalqiliyah Checkpoint. We sat outside one of the businesses there and waited to cross through one of the gaps in the fence near the checkpoint. We stayed there until the sun rose. Another young man from our village, M.R., joined us, as well as two other young men who I don’t know where they live. One of them said he knew a gap in the fence. We got in a car that drove us there, and asked the driver to wait for us. We noticed soldiers lying in wait near the gap and heard shots. Nabil said it was dangerous and refused to cross there. We went back to the car and drove back to the checkpoint. We talked with fixers who know the gaps and take workers through them. Some people, including Mu’tasem, went and tried to cross through one of the gaps, but after about half an hour, they came back and said there were soldiers and shooting there. Mu’tasem said he wanted to go home because it had been dangerous since the morning. We drank coffee and some of us had breakfast. M.R. suggested we go back to the gap because maybe the soldiers were gone. We went and tried to cross through farmland near the fence, but we heard young guys saying: “Soldiers, soldiers,” so we turned back because we were afraid the soldiers would catch us. Nabil and another young man I don’t know really wanted to go through, and kept walking around the area to find an opening to cross. I heard one of the young guys say there was a way through if anyone wanted. I told them not to go because it was dangerous, but Nabil didn’t listen to me. The young guy trod on the barbed wire fence. He was about 20 meters away from me. M.R. and Nabil and two other young men went over to him. I saw the young guy who was treading on the barbed wire go through and so did Nabil. Then I heard three or four shots, I’m not sure how many. I immediately turned and ran away. While I was running, I heard someone say, “Oh, I’m dying.” I was afraid the soldiers would chase us and catch us or shoot at us. Some young men told me how to get to the main road, and from there I got in a car and went home. On the way home, I saw on social media that one of the workers trying to cross the fence had been injured. I realized it was Nabil. I was shocked. I’ve had coffee with him more times than with my own family. For years, we slept in Israel together for weeks at a time. I later learned he’d been killed. M.R. (21), single, a resident of Sara, cannot obtain a permit to work in Israel as he does not meet the criteria set by Israel. Instead, he enters through gaps in the barrier. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb'i on 20 June 2022, M.R. described what happened that morning: At around 10:00 A.M., one of the young men went to the fence and trod on it in order to cross through to the other side. After he got through, he called out to us to cross too. We went towards him. A resident of my village, Nabil Ghanem, was walking ahead of me. He put his foot on the fence, and then I heard four shots. I saw three soldiers hiding in a low place behind the fence, seven to ten meters away from us. I had no choice but to run away. I turned and ran without stopping until I got away. I didn't know what happened to Nabil. Everyone who was with me ran away. I decided to go home. I was very scared by what happened. After about an hour, I called drivers in the area. They told me they’d seen an ambulance and that there was probably a wounded person. I later found out through social media that Nabil had been killed. The next day, I had to go to the fence again. I can't stay without work. My employer owes me money and if I don't go to him, I won't get it. This is our life. We have no other choices. Nabil's son, Mu'tasem Ghanem (23), a plasterer, set out with his father from home before dawn towards the Separation Barrier. They reached the checkpoint at around 5:00 A.M. In a testimony he gave B'Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb'i on 27 June 2022, he recounted: The drivers in the area told us there was a gap in the fence in an area called Abu al-‘Adas. We drove there. There were other workers there trying to enter Israel. When we were 200 meters from the fence, I heard shots but didn't know what was happening exactly. We went back to the car and drove back to the checkpoint. We had breakfast there. My dad had schnitzel and I had falafel. We waited until about 6:30 A.M., and then I went to check other gaps near the checkpoint, but they all had soldiers nearby. I called my dad and told him we couldn't go through. He asked me to come back to him. When I got there, the bus to Qalqiliyah was just passing and my father signaled it to stop and told me to go. I asked him to come with me, but he wanted to stay and try to cross the fence anyway. He wanted to go to his employer to get his salary, so he could give money to my brother Mu'taz (31) and help him buy an apartment. I got on the bus and went back home. At 8:30 A.M., my dad called and asked if I was home. I said I was, and he said he was still waiting to cross. I asked him to come home, and he said he'd cross the fence soon. We hung up and I went back to sleep. I woke up at 11:00 A.M. and called him, but he didn't pick up. His phone was off. I was worried, because he’s only never answered when he’s been arrested. I called M.R., whom I met in the morning by fence, and he told me he’d seen Dad go through the gap in the fence, and then heard gunfire and ran away. He later found out an ambulance had come and he thought the soldiers had arrested my dad. I didn't believe him. I went out of the room and found my mother, my sisters and my brother Mu'taz crying. I asked them what happened, and they said dad had been injured. I told them it didn't make sense. Even an hour later, when news of his death was shared on social media, everyone was crying and I still didn't believe it. I said he’d been arrested and nothing had happened to him. Very quickly, relatives, friends and neighbors started arriving. I started to grasp that he was dead. In addition to our mourning over Dad, Israel refused to hand over his body. The Palestinian DCO told us the body was being held because Dad was a terrorist and wanted to cut the fence. Only on Wednesday evening did the Israeli DCO hand over the body, at Huwarah Checkpoint. Dad wasn't a terrorist. He worked in Israel for 35 years without a permit, and always crossed through the gaps in the fence to support us. He was arrested many times in Israel because he didn't have a work permit. His last arrest was in 2018, when he spent two months in prison. Yet he still returned to work in Israel every time. We have no other choice. There's no work in the West Bank, and whatever there is, is irregular and badly paid. We just want to work and earn a living, like everyone else. * According to the database on the protection of civilians of the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA). Updates: On 1 July 2022, media reports stated that an MPIU investigation had been launched.

4 August 2022

Palestinian workers entering Israel through gaps in the Separation Barrier, Far’on, Tulkarm District. Photo: Ahmad al-Bazz, Activestills, 5 Aug. 2020

Open-Fire Policy

Soldiers again ambush, shoot and injure 12 Palestinian workers trying to enter Israel

Thousands of Palestinians from the West Bank enter Israel every day for work without a permit. The state is fully aware of this reality that serves its interests by guaranteeing cheap, disempowered labor. Despite this, soldiers lying in wait in front of gaps in the Separation Barrier or patrolling in military jeeps along the barrier’s security road open live fire at Palestinian workers crossing through these openings. As B’Tselem has previously reported, these planned shootings are not an independent initiative by a soldier or commander but policy implementation. It is clear that this policy is not — and cannot be — legal. After all, the workers do not endanger anyone, and all they ask for, as the military knows full well, is to provide for their families. Yet as far as Israel is concerned, this is policy. And due to this, no one will be held accountable for these acts — neither the soldiers who fired the shots, nor the commanders who planned the ambushes, nor the legal advisors who signed off on the policy, nor senior military officials. Since October 2019, B’Tselem has documented 36 cases of workers injured by live fire while attempting to enter or return from Israel through gaps in the Separation Barrier. Many of these incidents took place in Far’on, while others took place in other parts of Tulkarm District or in Jenin District. 11 January 2021, the injuring of nine workers at the Separation Barrier, Far’on: On Monday, 11 January 2021, soldiers lay in wait in front of gaps in the Separation Barrier near the village of Far’on, where Palestinians who do not have a permit try to enter Israel for work. Throughout the day, soldiers fired 0.22-inch caliber bullets (two-twos) without warning from a distance of 10 to 15 meters, injuring at least nine Palestinians in the legs. All nine were taken to hospitals in Tulkarm, and five suffered leg fractures. Below are testimonies collected by B’Tselem field researcher Abdulkarim Sadi from some of the victims: M.F. (25), a resident of Beit Imrin north of Nablus, set out from his home at around 3:30 A.M. He reached the fence about an hour later, crossed it, and was shot in the leg after he advanced several steps. In his testimony, he recounted: When I reached the gap in the fence, it was still dark. Some workers had already started coming to the area on their way to work. I crossed through the gap, and after a few steps, several shots were fired at me. I was hit in the left leg and fell down on the road. Because I was shocked and afraid, I got up and ran towards the cars parked in Far’on, east of the fence, about 200 meters away. I found a car that took me to a hospital in Tulkarm. I didn’t see the soldiers who shot at me. I only heard them chasing after me and calling me to stop. I was examined and x-rayed at the hospital, and it turned out that the bullet had caused a bone fracture. The doctors put my left leg in a cast. I’m still in hospital, receiving treatment, and undergoing more tests. B.A. (25), a resident of the village of Kafr ‘Abush, south of Tulkarm, works as an autobody mechanic in an auto repair shop inside Israel. He came to the gap in the fence around 6:30 A.M., as he does every day. After crossing and advancing several meters, he was shot in the leg. In his testimony, he recalled what happened that morning: On Monday morning, at around 6:30, I came to the area of the gap in the fence. There were dozens of workers there who had come from different parts of the northern West Bank. Everyone was going to their jobs in Israel through one of these gaps. I crossed the fence and advanced several steps. There were more workers in front of me. Then three shots were fired, and one hit my right leg. I fell down on the security road, and three soldiers came out of a nearby olive grove. They surrounded me and started treating me to stop the bleeding. About 15 minutes later, a military ambulance arrived. The paramedics gave me a pain relief shot because I couldn’t stand on my feet. The ambulance then took me to the Jbarah Checkpoint, where a waiting Palestinian ambulance rushed me to the hospital in Tulkarm. I was examined and x-rayed in the ER, and it turned out I have a fracture below my right knee. The doctors gave me a full leg cast. I’m supposed to stay in the hospital for a few days for further treatment. Living in poverty has pushed me into the risky venture of crossing the fence. If I had found work in Tulkarm or its vicinity, I wouldn’t have endangered myself like that. After all, I’m not going to Israel for travel or a change of scenery. I’m going there to work so I can support my family. I don’t know how long I’ll be confined and unable to work. It will take time for the bone to heal. B.’A. (29), a resident of Bal’a, east of Tulkarm, works as a plasterer in Israel. He arrived at the Separation Barrier at around 8:30 A.M. After he saw no soldiers in the area, he crossed the gap in the barrier and was shot in the leg. In his testimony, he recounted: When I came to the fence area at around 8:30 A.M., I kept watching the security road to see if any soldiers or military jeeps were there. When I saw there weren’t any, I advanced with several other workers that I didn’t know towards the gap where I usually cross over. After five or six workers went through, my turn came, and I crossed, too. After a few steps, I heard several shots. I didn’t know where they were fired from. It felt like I’d been electrocuted in my right leg. Out of fright, I started running back through the gap towards Far’on. Five or six soldiers stepped out from the olive trees in front of the gap and called me to stop. They chased after me, but I kept running. After about 400 meters, I lost them and reached a parked car. I got in, and the driver took me to the Far’on junction near the Palestinian National Security checkpoint. The Palestinian force called an ambulance that took me to the hospital in Tulkarm. I was examined and x-rayed in the ER. Luckily, it turned out that the two bullets had entered and exited my right leg without causing any bone fractures, but some fragments stayed inside. I’m still hospitalized and receiving anti-inflammatory treatments. N.’A. (20), a resident of Jinsafut southwest of Nablus, arrived at the Separation Barrier in the early morning hours. After hearing that several laborers had been shot by soldiers that day, he decided to return home, try to cross again in the evening, and stay overnight in Israel. At around 5:00 P.M., N.’A. came to the gap, crossed it, and was then shot. In his testimony, he recalled: Towards the evening, at around 5:00 P.M., I came back to the fence area west of Far’on. I didn’t know that soldiers were ambushing the workers. Several meters past the gap, I was shot in the right leg. I immediately started running towards Far’on because I was scared that the soldiers would grab me. Despite the intense pain and bleeding, I kept running away limping. After 300 meters, I found a parked taxi that drove me to the hospital in Tulkarm. I was x-rayed, and it turned out that two bullets had hit me. I was in a lot of pain, but luckily, the bullets didn’t hit a bone. I’m supposed to be discharged during the week, and the doctors say the wounds will heal soon. 1 February 2021, the injuring of two workers at the Separation Barrier, Barta’ah a-Sharqiyah: On Monday, 1 February 2021, at around 6:30 A.M., two workers from the Jenin area came to a gap in the Separation Barrier east of the Barta’ah a-Sharqiyah enclave. After they crossed, the two noticed a military jeep advancing towards them from about a hundred meters away. They began to flee, but the soldiers fired a live bullet at them, hitting one worker, ‘Araba resident Yazid Daoud (23), in the legs. In a testimony he gave on 7 February 2021, Daoud spoke about what happened that morning: On Monday morning, I went to a gap in the Separation Barrier with my friend, who also works in Israel. I passed through the gap, and suddenly, a military jeep arrived. We had just started running, and one soldier fired a bullet at me from about 100 meters away. The bullet hit my legs. At first, I didn’t feel I’d been hit because of the shock and panic. I ran with my friend for about 100 meters and then started feeling pain and bleeding heavily. Then my friend and some other guys who were there helped me get back through the gap and took me in a private car to a clinic in my village, ‘Araba. Sadly, the clinic was closed, so we called an ambulance that took me to the hospital in Jenin. At the ER, I was treated and x-rayed. I was discharged a few hours later, and the doctors ordered me to rest until I fully recover and scheduled a follow-up visit. Later that day, at around 3:30 P.M., Silat al-Harithiya resident Wasim al-Kheir (25) came back from his work in Israel with other workers. When he tried to pass through the gap in the barrier, soldiers lying in ambush fired at his leg from about 150 meters to the west. In a testimony he gave on 7 February 2021, he described what happened: On Monday, at around 3:30 P.M., I was coming home with a group of other workers working in Israel. I reached the gap in the barrier and didn’t see any soldiers around. As soon as I tried to pass through the gap, I heard four or five shots. It turned out that a group of soldiers, I don’t know how many exactly, ambushed us about 150 meters away from the gap where we’d passed and fired at us without warning. One bullet hit my left foot. I fell down immediately and workers who were near me picked me up and carried me through the gap. They brought me to a private car that was parked there and drove me to the government hospital in Jenin. At the hospital, they x-rayed me and took a bullet fragment out of my foot. There’s another fragment that the doctors preferred not to remove because they feared it would damage the foot. They put my leg in a cast and discharged me the same day to rest and recover. After the injury, I suffered from pain, and a doctor came to my house to monitor my condition. 10 February 2021 – the injuring of a 16-year-old at the Separation Barrier, Barta’ah a-Sharqiyah: On Wednesday, 10 February 2021, at around 4:30 P.M., two cousins from Ya’bad came to the gap in the Separation Barrier east of the enclave. The two, S.’A. (16) and A.’A. (17) saw a group of workers returning from Israel through the gap and decided to cross as well. Immediately after S.’A. crossed the opening, security forces shot him in the leg from a vehicle that was about 100 meters away from the teens. In a testimony he gave on 11 February 2021, S.’A. described what happened: I advanced towards the opening in the barrier, and my cousin was behind me. As soon as I crossed through, a bullet hit me in the left leg. I ran a few meters back, and then noticed I was bleeding heavily. I couldn’t run anymore and fell to the ground. Several soldiers got out of the vehicle and ran towards me, but luckily, some workers and drivers who were there picked me up right away and took me by private car to a clinic in Ya’bad. From there, I was taken by ambulance to the government hospital in Jenin. I was x-rayed at the hospital, and it turned out that the bullet had entered and exited through my left leg below the knee. My parents and family members came to the hospital. I stayed there for a few hours to receive treatment, and then I was discharged. The doctors didn’t want me to stay at the hospital, so I wouldn’t risk being infected with coronavirus.

9 March 2021