PHILANTHROPY NOW!!: "I WANT MY DEATH TO BE LOUD!" Never forget Fatma Hassouna, Palestinian Photojournalist & Poet

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

"I WANT MY DEATH TO BE LOUD!" Never forget Fatma Hassouna, Palestinian Photojournalist & Poet

Poem by Fatma Hassouna, written months before her murder in her home in Gaza along with 9 family members on Wednesday April 16, 2025 by a targeted Israeli airstrike.

Today or tomorrow, or the day after I will fall to the sky just as my friends fell. We will take each other's hands, rows upon rows to an eternal gate. We will know the answer to all these questions because something makes everything we see and hear unreasonable. At the time everything will become reasonable and it will become . Questions are just ashes.

Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow I will actually become a past person in the category of “Was”. “He had dreams and he loved life even though it was hard on him. He was talented. He wanted to live, and he was, and he was a shelf filled with the wishes of a past person who’s pages close forever, remembering him." Who knows him? Why those who do not know him pass by indifferently? And this is what I do not want to happen because I told you, I WANT MY DEATH TO BE LOUD and it will not be enough for me, for only friends to know about it because I did not give my life for that.

I want the whole world to know that death of the Palestinian now means that an extended vengeance will go on. Burn his killer, his brother who was silent about his killing, and the knife that cut his neck. And I want the whole world to know that my death means the world losing itself in front of me, in front of us, in front of itself, and that’s what killed me, not a bullet. Not a shrapnel, not even a missile. What kills me everyday is my inability to break the hand that attacked me and my brothers, and my oppression from all those who remain silent when they should have been screaming. What kills me is something unseen, sneaking into my body and soul and nesting, spreading like a cancer, then destroying everything. Something after a moment of anticipation, like a mean snake.

What will kill me will never be this occupation or all those whose impurity I’ve known. Rather it will be my disappointment, my self abasement, my silence and satisfaction with being killed. That is what I do not want, this shame to ever befall me. I want to live for the world to know me and for the game to end with a fair end!

Her last post on Twitter:

Fatma's Photo Diary: -> A CITY OF GHOSTS <-

CLICK HERE FOR FATMA HASSOUNA'S IG

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RIP Fatma Hassouna

“Three hundred days my brothers and I die in this murder, blood flows on the ground even as if I am afraid of the moment my brothers' blood will reach me. Three hundred days we see only red and black, smell the smell of death, we eat the pends, and only touch the bodies. ‏We die here every day, in many forms and colors, I die a thousand times every time I see a child who suffers, I get sharded, I become ashes. What we have become, this absurdity hurts me, and this beast that eats us every day. ‏As for mentioning the death that is necessary, if I die, I want a resounding death, I do not want me in urgent news, nor in a number with a group, I want a death that the world hears, an effect that remains for the extent of the ages, and immortal images that neither time nor space is buried”