We hoped, or wanted to hope that it happens less often now. That ongoing ritual that continues for years of little children throwing stones or not, and soldiers shooting at them and they die. It happened again at the same place I saw it for the first time. Five years ago. I was speaking with one of the taxi drivers; my gaze was directed vaguely, laxly in the direction of Ramallah, and I saw three soldiers, coming down the road, then I saw small children throwing stones at the soldiers and the soldiers stopped, bent down and started spraying bullets in every direction as the children escaped. It took me time to understand what I was seeing and to believe,
because reality felt like a dream, a nightmare, and everything happened slowly, and time stopped, and the body stopped, and the heart stopped. And froze. That time, the first time, a child was not murdered.
Maybe the difference from then to today is that it seemed there was more shame, or that they tried to camouflage their actions.
Adults threw Molotov cocktails, they said after wards, after shooting at the escaping children, piercing the doors with bullets and smashing windows smashed. That is why they had shot at them they said later, because they were adults, because they had thrown Molotov cocktails, they said, they lied.
Today they say, yes, true, children threw stones and we shot at them, sure, because they threw, because they will, because their children shall, because they are Palestinians.
This, they almost say, not quite, but it is completely clear that this is what they think.

They are Palestinians, that is it more or less, their lives are not a value, to preserve and cherish and keep.

Ahmed called, a friend. This time it is his son Mohamed who I saw when he was little, fifteen years old now. I think, why him, At least it should be people I don't know…such is egocentrism…he will live. He was shot with live ammunition in the leg, the bone was not injured. it is still early to know the extent of the damage but he will live. That's good.

They have been shooting at the children of Qalandiya refugee camp for years. It's not the same soldiers, and not the same children, different age groups, and corps, and seasons. Do they pass the ethos of the hunt from one group to the other. Is it a serviceman's duty. Is it a norm or an order or somewhere between the two... sometimes children throw stones and they shoot. If the children aren't throwing stones then they stand and wait until they do, and then shoot. Once, a long time ago, we saw the soldiers crawl up the hill and throw stones at the children in order to get the longed for stones thrown at them and then they could shoot "to protect their homes" while the children ran away.

It is hard to know with what to start, with Mohamed, Ahmed's son or Tah, the sixteen year old who was shot and killed last Thursday, or with every day almost in the last few weeks, and for the last years, or with the day I shall never forget because It happened before my own eyes, Friday the 23 of March the day the checkpoint soldiers shot and murdered fourteen year old Omar Matar, with a live bullet in his neck, a boy who threw stones, and soldiers ran after him and shot at him and he got wounded and was in a coma for a week and then died.
Every day is as good as the next, I think, and until my words will reach one place or other, it will happen again, most likely, maybe it is happening right now and another child is wounded or killed, or maybe not, until the next time when he is.

On Wednesday the 24 of January Ahmed stood by his cart at the entrance of the refugee camp and sold lupine and humus. There wasn't much work he said but he is after a by pass operation and is not allowed to engage in physical labor, not that he would find any, but the only thing he is allowed if he wants to remain alive is to stand in one place and not move around, and so he does, he stands by his cart and tries to sell to those who don't have money to buy even the cheapest things. In order to do something, not just to wait… Mohamed his 15 year old son arrived to visit his father. Ahmed at first wanted him to go back home, out of worry about the soldiers who shoot almost daily. It's dangerous outside. But two hours before, two jeeps passed and shot rubber bullets, maybe, he thought, they've concluded their daily portion.
Shadi was shot, a tiny child, six years old, with three rubber coated bullets in his body, and after that the jeep had drove on, shot the child and drove on, as always. Shadi was taken to a hospital in Ramallah.
But as it usually happens not more than once a day Ahmed thought well they had probably concluded the day, and agreed that Mohamed would stay. And used the opportunity to go speak to friends down the road, an eye's reach. Mohamed stayed by the cart, at the entrance of the camp. Near the road.

First two jeeps arrived from their usual place and then two more one after the other, quickly. Usually when the jeeps pass the camp they slow down, who knows, maybe they will be lucky and there will be children or stones or both.
Near the place the jeeps came out of, Job the 17 year old was busy putting away things in the grocery store he works in. The first jeep ran over produce that was outside the shop. Job was frightened and ran into the shop. Just then the children on the other side identified the jeep and started throwing stones. The soldier who had run over the produce stood outside the shop and began firing into the shop, at Job who stood perhaps two meters from him, a live bullet hit him in his leg, and another penetrated his hand, even though Job was nowhere near or with the children who threw the stones at the soldier but that doesn't really matter. He is Palestinian.
Meanwhile the two jeeps moved forward and stood at the entrance to the camp, the children started to run away and from the roofs of the jeep live fire started, live fire, rubber bullets, not seen, from inside the jeep, right and left in every direction.
It was about four fifteen. Everything happened very fast. Ahmed heard the children call out "they came they came" and understood immediately that the soldiers had come, or were on the way and began walking towards Mohamed. Or running. Exactly then the shooting started. Mohamed, who stood near his father's cart tried to turn it around and escape, a good boy that does not abandon the family's source of income, and a live bullet entered his leg and came out again. A hole the size of a small well in his little foot and his father who saw everything, who sees him fall, and can't save him. Seventeen year old Rassan saw Mohamed fall and approached to help him rise got a live bullet in his leg that broke the bone. Shadi, sixteen years old, was among the children who didn't manage to run away, and was wounded by a rubber bullet.

After they finished spraying with rubber bullets in every direction and four children lay on the ground wounded, they left, finished with the hunt for today, they left until next time.

Ahmed immediately went to hospital with the boy. He didn't think to call home. Everything happened so fast, but apparently the children who came out of hiding ran to give Mohamed's mother his shoe, with the holes on each side because it was forgotten behind and the mother, who didn't know anything, collapsed.

The bullet entered Mohamed's leg on one side and went out on the other, apparently he has a big hole there and they will have to transplant from a different part of his body, he was in hospital for three days, since he's been home he goes to hospital every day to change the bandage, he manages to hobble around with one crutch. It happened on the last day of school before winter vacation. At least he won't miss school Ahmed says.

The other children have since been released from hospital as well. Six year old Shadi who was wounded by three rubber bullets was transferred to Hadassah because he is a resident of Jerusalem and has since been released as well.

It happens every day now, says Ahmed. Every day. There's nothing one can do about it. This sort of thing can't be changed, not by the children and the soldiers.

The other day it was little Ibrahim who was wounded. From the rubber bullets. The same ritual. Soldiers driving their peacock drive on a road used only by Palestinians slow down near the refugee camp on purpose, there was a distribution of good from the UNWRA and there were many people around, many children, so the children threw stones, and the soldiers shot at them so he was wounded. Not too seriously this time. Last time Tami and I saw Ibrahim he was with a giant bandage on his forehead because it so happened that just then the soldiers shot and he was wounded. A bullet grazed his head, it's lucky he is alive, a neglected touching sad little boy.

The day before yesterday the soldiers killed Tah. On Thursday, the first of February. He was sixteen.
I know his father, Ahmed says. I don't know exactly what happened to him and how he was wounded but we heard it was around six in the morning, that he was wounded in the leg. The soldiers who stayed near by after having shot him allowed him to bleed for two hours until all the blood flowed from his body.
People say that he prayed at the Mosque in the morning, said Abu Omar, a friend of Ahmed we befriended at about the same time we met Ahmed, they both pushed carts at Qalandiya checkpoint…after loosing their jobs in Israel….he went out to work, Abu Omar continued…he worked at…there is an UNWRA school here where I work as a guard.. so there is a road behind it, it passes by the fence, but it isn't concrete over there, it's (he makes a drawing in the air of a spiral) metal. So maybe they thought he was trying to cross, something, I don't know, a jeep came and gave him a bullet here, he points to his thigh, from six o'clock until eight the boy is on the ground and there was a jeep there next to him. Nobody knew there was a person there. If people knew they would come. There was nobody there. Morning, six-seven.

Ahmed says the boy lived near by so he passed there. He prayed in the mosque and wanted to go to Jerusalem. They shot him there.
He wanted to go to work, or school, don't know. He lives just before the kafr Aqab, there is a path there that passes near the fence, a path the soldiers pass on, behind the UNWRA school, a path that continues in the direction of Ramallah. There is a metal fence between the road and where the soldiers go, their own road, a road for guarding the fence, and next to it is our path, the Palestinians' path. There is a fence and a gate the soldiers open when they want to come across. That's how they come in the direction of the camp. That's how they entered when they came on Mohamed.
After he died they left him there for another two hours. Dead. Then they took him to the checkpoint. They called an ambulance that took him to Ramallah. From the hospital they called the Tanzim and told them there was a casualty. They came to the hospital to check. On the news they announced that a person from Qalandiya was killed.

Abu Omar said, only when the boy was gone do they call the Ambulance from Ramallah. Then they say there was a boy who wanted to cross the fence and now he's dead.
An ambulance came and took him, a young boy, he lived at Qlandiya village at the part near kafr Aqab, near Jerusalem. I saw in the paper that he was born in 91, sixteen he was.

We knew about it at eight, nine thirty, it was on the news. We heard there was a dead person from Qalandiya. We didn't know who. Everybody looked for his kids.
Mine were sleeping.
So the men in charge, from the Tanzim went to Ramallah to see who it is. They found his ID and called his parents.

After that the children went to the place, to see where his blood was, and then came the jeep and they started to shoot rubber bullets on them.

Again there were wounded. Not badly.

Every day they pass and enter. They have nothing to do here, Ahmed says, they come and go. They have nothing to do here, they come for spite if there is a child they stand at the entrance, if there isn't they go on their way.

Last week there were shots on children four or five times.

We visited Ahmed's house and saw the wounded Mohamed, he was shy, and finally saw Ahmed's new house. And his little daughter who we had not met before. Abu Omar came as well and we were very glad, it was nice. And Mohamed looked really good and it seemed he would be alright. We ate and laughed and Abu Omar explained to me why it is important to study and I was almost convinced and they saw a film Tamar made about Qalandiya Checkpoint and Abu Omar held his head the whole time and cried and asked what the Jews say about it, what do they say... And the film ended and we laughed some more... And Abu Omar said we have two Jewish women here, bring all the prisoners, and I said that it isn't certain that anybody would be interested in two like us…and it was nice but we all knew that sooner or later, today or tomorrow or maybe even as we sat there a jeep would appear near the children who would likely throw stones and the soldiers would shoot and the children would be wounded or killed, and that we can never know anything, that is how it is, because that is what the soldiers do, they shoot at children, that is how it is.

When they were asked how it happened that they shot him and let him die, the IDF spokesman, who is actually the advertising agency of the occupation, said that he was shot because he tried to cut the fence.
He tried to cut the fence and that is why they shot him. That's it.
And as to why they didn't help him they said that he was on the other side of the fence, not where they were, that is why.

The truth is that there is hardly any doubt that Tah did not try to cut the fence. He was alone. He is a resident of Jerusalem and can come across whenever he wants the "legal" way. He doesn’t have to sneak across. The likelihood that he was trying to cut the fence is null.
But what is most amazing is that they say in their response, which isn't surprising because that is what we always see, that a boy who cuts the fence is condemned to death, deserves death.
And that a boy bleeding to death on the other side of the fence is condemned to die and there is no need to help him.

There is no wonder that a system that sends its spokesman out to give such an explanation is a system in which such things occur.

Children with no names and no individual identity or no humanity, who are legitimate targets like in a shooting range, are the same ones who, when they are bleeding to death can be abandoned to die. One need not take responsibility for their inevitable death because they are on the other side of the fence.

Translated by Nurit Steinfeld