search
Adele Raemer
Life on the Border with the Gaza Strip

One border, two sides

Those on the other side of the Gaza fence write about their lives on the border, just as I do; but under Hamas, there's no freedom of speech, and they put themselves at risk
Life on the Border cover photo, Facebook. (Adele Raemer)
Life on the Border cover photo, Facebook. (Adele Raemer)

As we, on our side of the border, enter a New Year, I would like to try to put things in perspective for myself, as well as for those of you following.

Despite the political instability with which our country is currently dealing, we still are a strong democracy, with freedom of speech that enables me to call out my government and criticize my leaders on any platform I choose (and I do it often, on Facebook, YouTube, TV, the media and the streets). Despite the rockets, tunnels, fireballoons and infiltration threats, thanks to the IDF, we on our side of the border live in comfort, prosperity, and relative safety most of the time (albeit — the tension of escalation is the “white noise” of our lives). We benefit from quality socialized health care, homes that have saferooms, food on our tables, bomb-proof schools to keep our children safe as they gain an education, and the love and strength of community.

I would like to juxtapose that, by opening a small window into the lives of some of the people on the other side of our border.

We Are Not Numbers is a website that posts writings by young Palestinians, mentored by adults from English speaking countries, to improve their writing. As we do in the Facebook Group Life on the Border, depicting our lives in the Western Negev, they write to depict their lives, in the Gaza Strip. Just as writing is for me, it is a tool for therapy for many of them. A tool to help them feel more empowered when powerlessness abounds.

I follow them. I do not agree with everything they write: they usually put sole blame for their situation on Israel and the West, without putting any of the blame on their leaders for their predicaments, without calling upon their leaders to take responsibility. Occasionally, I write my criticisms on their FB page, in my comments (not TOO frequently — because I do not want to get kicked out: hopefully, my comments get some people thinking, and I want to be able to continue reading).

When I read their pieces, I keep in mind that Gazans do not have freedom of speech. Publicly criticizing or denouncing the Hamas on a website, could physically endanger them and their families. Having said that, if it enables even some of them to take out their frustrations by writing, rather than joining the violent protests on the fence, then it has played an important role: dayeynu. Disturbingly, they often write about the “March of Return,” and those killed and maimed there, with admiration. That’s mostly when I write my criticisms.

In any case, for anyone who is truly interested in what life on the border is really like, this article needs to be read. We need to remember that there are two sides to this border, and what happens on the other side, directly affects our lives on this side. THIS is why I keep explaining that Gaza needs to be allowed to rehabilitate. So say generals in the IDF, as well: a rehabilitated Gaza will be a safer Western Negev. Because hungry neighbors are dangerous neighbors. And because nobody deserves to live this way. Regardless of who is to blame. (And there IS some inward finger-pointing regarding who keeps them in this poverty, in this piece, at least.)

Please meet: the abject poverty in which too many of our neighbors live.

About the Author
The writer (aka "Zioness on the Border" on social media) is a mother and a grandmother who since 1975 has been living and raising her family on Kibbutz Nirim along the usually paradisiacal, sometimes hellishly volatile border with the Gaza Strip. She founded and moderates a 13K-strong Facebook group named "Life on the Border with Gaza". The writer blogs about the dreams and dramas that are part of border kibbutznik life. Until recently, she could often be found photographing her beloved region, which is exactly what she had planned to do at sunrise, October 7th. Fortunately, she did not go out that morning. As a result, she survived the murderous terror infiltrations of that tragic day, hunkering down in her safe room with her 33-year-old son for 11 terrifying hours. So many of her friends and neighbors, though, were not so lucky. More than she can even count. Adele was an educator for 38 years in her regional school, and has been one of the go-to voices of the Western Negev when escalations on the southern border have journalists looking for people on the ground. On October 7, her 95% Heaven transformed into 100% Hell. Since then she has given a multitude of interviews. She has gone on five missions abroad in support of Israel and as an advocate for her people. In addition to fighting the current wave of lies and blood libels about the Jewish state, she is raising money to help restore their Paradise so that members of her kibbutz can return to their homes on the border, where they can begin to heal. If you wish to learn more about how you can help her and her community return home, please feel free to drop her a line.
Related Topics
Related Posts