Hend Salama Abo Helow, Al Nusuirat Camp
Hend Salama Abo Helow is a medical student at Al-Azhar University of Gaza (AUG). She is a dedicated researcher and has served as an ambassador for UNWRA. Her volunteer experiences includes work with Save the Children and the Palestinian Center for Democracy and Conflict Resolution. She is passionate about international law and human rights, loves calligraphy, and asserts that family is her first priority in life. She believes in embracing the challenges in life and takes as her motto: “If you aim, aim at the stars. So, if you miss, you land on the moon.”
Theme: Miracle Poems
Hend - Miracle Poem
I’m Hend,
A daughter of sun and moon,
A granddaughter of a golden name,
A lifeline who still holds the flame,
A genocide witness,
Still wanting to love, live, and flee.
Survived death many times,
Still chase dreams tirelessly,
Trace to be entirely free,
Pave the future that I aim to be.
Yet, I’m twenty,
In times of adversity,
I rise,
A miracle, united by atrocity
Theme: Colorism
Listen up.
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Theme: Homeland
Listen up.
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Theme: Love Letters to Palestine
Listen up.
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Theme: Freedom-Huriye-Azadi
As a bird feathered by blood
Dreams of skies,
Yearns to fly,
Soar high,
Break the chain,
Wipe away the wallowing pain
Shout out:
I’m alive,
I’m free,
I cry…
Heavy it is to be free,
And it is not easy to be.
Scars still hurt,
Agony still beats,
Grief still feeds on my heart.
Memories erode my mind.
Why was my beloved killed without remorse?
I couldn’t fly,
Nor escape the sly,
Nor snatch my grandmother as she died.
I couldn’t resuscitate,
Nor mitigate
What she felt
Before being killed,
Or even hold her hands to whisper:
“Don’t fear, I’m here.”
I keep asking why,
Why wasn’t I killed
Instead?
Heavy is being free;
It doesn’t matter anymore to flee.
What a curse!
Is it a grace
To be free with clipped wings,
Drenched in bloodbaths,
Tarnished by death,
Squashed by hunger,
Haunted by horror,
Nightmares,
And echoes of farewell screams?
Maybe, I still want to be
FREE
In life,
Or like a bird,
In heaven.