From Marawi to Palestine: A teen’s perspective on war
Can you imagine living in your house, a home that has been with your family for decades, and then suddenly have a stranger show up at your doorstep claiming it belongs to them?That’s exactly what’s happening in Palestine.
I was 11 years old when I found out about what went on inside Palestine. I remember the sound of the buildings sinking and bombs striking the land as I watched the incident on my mom’s phone through a video on X (formerly Twitter). The sounds of the airstrikes and screams of fear echoed what happened in my province Marawi as terrorists raided people’s homes. The Marawi siege is a story of terrorism by the Islamic State that wanted to take over the city.
I relate so much to the story of Palestine because of what happened that day. That day was a rollercoaster of not knowing what was coming next. My dad was working as a disaster officer in Marawi when we found out that it had become a war zone. I was only 9 years old when it happened, and to think I could have lost my dad to a fight I couldn’t help him in. I prayed every day that he would be safe and come home to me soon but each day I started losing hope and feeling even more afraid because I knew he kept going into the war zone to retrieve people that needed to be buried, and to find those they can still save.
It reminds me that the Palestinians are risking their lives each day to save their families, and children while fighting for their homes. Palestinians deserve their homes and a place in society. I can’t get behind the Israeli government’s idea of eliminating or racially segregating the Palestinians. Everyone deserves freedom without anyone dictating their place in society.
As a child, I had the same thoughts as my parents because I hadn’t developed many opinions of my own yet. It was after I grew up a bit more that I realized how dire their situation was. While everyone was fussing about the Ukraine-Russia war, my parents talked about how the same situation in Palestine was unjustly given little attention. The words of my mom stuck to me, “Israel should stop the segregation, profiling, and oppression of Palestinians. If true justice and peace are to be attained in this region, it has to take sincere efforts from both parties.” I slowly understood why my parents had that way of thinking. As I grew up, so did my understanding. I will never understand how people can even think of doing such horrible things, to bomb the homes of innocent people because of a desire for their land. I haven’t dug deep enough into why Israel is doing these things to the Palestinians, but I know enough to say that what Israel is doing isn’t an act of justice, but an act of terrorism and horror.
People need to understand that the situation in Palestine affects us all. If there is no freedom for the Palestinians and nobody fights for it, then is our world today truly free? If we cannot speak our minds without the fear of getting hurt, then all the world wars, rallies for freedom, peace talks, etc. are useless. If one ethnicity is wiped out in this new generation, everything we fought for is gone. It’s not just a battle for Palestine, it’s a battle for world independence and peace. As Nelson Mandela once said, “We know too well that our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians.”
The struggle between Palestine and Israel is not merely a conflict over land; it is a war for justice, freedom, and the right to exist in peace. The memories of airstrikes and the screams of fear serve as a haunting reminder of the consequences of oppression and violence. The parallels between the situation in Palestine, the South African apartheid, and my own memories of the war in Marawi make me realize how universal the human experience is. The fear of losing loved ones, the uncertainty of tomorrow, and the strength we find in facing adversity—it’s a shared journey. It’s frustrating how Palestine, a country in its own right, is struggling to maintain its identity. It makes me question the notion of a truly free world—is it just a saying or a reality we’re still striving for?
Zaira Pacasum
