I work on a farm east of Jabalya Refugee Camp. It has 45 dunams of farmland with olive, peach and apricot trees. I work every day but Friday from 7:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. My job is to guard the farm. I also water the trees, pick fruit, do weeding and handle the irrigation and electricity. I’ve been working there since 2007, and the place has become part of my life.

After the war began, I kept going to the farm every day as usual. I tended to the trees, watered them, sprayed pesticides and watched over the place. On Wednesday, 12 May 2021, I arrived in the morning and started to work as usual. I opened the water valves to water the crops. I heard the loud sound of drones all the time. I was afraid something would happen, so I went inside the administration building. 

About half an hour later, ‘Atef al-Barawi, a contractor who to comes to harvest the crops, called me. He asked me to open the gate, which is about 350 meters from the building. I rode there on a donkey cart. ‘Atef came in together with two farmers who work with him, Tal’at and Nael. They went in and started picking apricots by the gate. 

At the same time, Wael al-Ghula, one of the farmers who works on the farm, called and asked me to pick him up from a gas station about 700 meters away from the farm. In the end, ‘Atef went to get him and we all picked peaches together. After that, I went to water some other trees. On the way, I did some weeding and kept the weeds for the donkey. 

Suddenly, I heard a loud explosion and felt a sharp pain in my left hand and stomach. I called out for someone to help me. I looked over towards the others and saw Wael, Nael, Tal’at and ‘Atef lying on the ground. I tried to get up and go to them, but I only managed to walk a few meters before I fell. I grabbed the door of ‘Atef’s car to get up, but then another missile landed. I tried to get up but fell again, so I crawled on. Then a third missile landed next to me. I kept crawling until I got to the building. I looked down and saw I was bleeding. 

I called my cousin on my mother’s side, Luai Jneid. I told him what had happened, and he called an ambulance that took me to the Indonesian Hospital. I had surgery on my stomach and they removed some shrapnel. I was hospitalized for nine days and then discharged. 

They bombed us even though we’re civilians and farmers who work for our living, in broad daylight. I’m very sad about my friends who died. They were killed while working to support their families.