This year, March 15 marks the 70th commemoration of Al Nakba, the day after the declaration of independance of the state of Israel, the day Palestinians were kicked out of their homes and their village to make way for settlements for paid Jews from the world to live in.
If you don’t agree with this at this point, please press Ctrl+W.
What is different this year? The person in The White House decided he is playing a board game and falsy assigned a capital to an occupying country by doing what they’re doing best; occupying another. This year, also, the Palestinians aren’t taking it anymore and are revolting. A large number
died was killed.
You’d ask, why a food blog is getting into politics? The answer is because I am not separate from this messed up world we live in. And this subject is dear to my heart. I’ve brought it up before and I will still bring it up now more than ever. My grandparents came to Lebanon from Palestine in 1948 when they left their homes for what they assumed would be a short time. Fifty years later, my family moves from UAE, their 1975 refuge from the Civil War, to Lebanon. We have no place to go as we were expelled due to sponsorship country regulations. So we move to the Palestinian Refugee camp in Dbayeh and here I am twenty years later living and making a living from here. Fortunately, my family got the Lebanese nationality, which made things somehow easier on several fronts.
Fighting has been taking place since Earth day, end of March. And for Al Nakba, more than 60 have been killed. YES, Killed. Murdered. Not dead, as reported. and more than 2700 injured to the date of publishing this post.
Still not convinced?
It angers me how the world is silent to the 70-year-old actions of the “only democracy in the Middle East” and the massacres commited to the land they occupy and the neighboring countries.
What also angers me is the cultural theft commited against anything Levantine being promoted, mainly in the US, as Israeli. Hummus is not Israeli. There was nothing called that. It is Levantine, Middle Eastern. There is Jewish bread. But there is not an Israeli hummus. And the list goes on.
Here is where I feel responsible; storytelling and food. Memories and oral history is a vital part in keeping the cause alive. I will do what I am good at, and I will use the platform and medium I have. So here it is. My food and my family’s inherited food is at your hands. Share the stories and the flavors. Fight the way you can, and let’s not turn a blind eye at all the brutal physical and cultural killing taking place until justice is served.
My thoughts and energy goes to all the Palestinians fighting for our land and for our right have the land for us!
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