Samira a-Daghameh, 13 

I
am 13 years old. I live with my father, Majdi a-Daghameh and brothers
and sisters: Muhammad, 12, Roah, 10, Manal, 9, Ruba, 4, and Qusai, 2.
My mother, Wafa a-Daghameh, lived with us until she was killed. Our
house is on Abu Latifah Street, about 700 meters from the Gaza Strip’s
eastern border with Israel.

Last Wednesday
[7 May], around 2 A.M., I woke up from the sound of heavy gunfire. My
father and mother were sitting in the living room, watching television,
and I went to sit with them. A few minutes later, I went back to my
room, where my brothers and sisters were sleeping. I lay in bed until I
fell asleep.

Around 6 A.M., I heard my
mother wake up Muhammad, Roah, and Manal, to get them ready to go to
school. They go to the UNRWA school, where my mother teaches, and they
all leave for school together. Ruba goes to kindergarten. When they
were about to leave the house, my mother heard gunfire outside and
decided not to leave. Around 7:30, the school principal called her and
said she had to go to the school. My mother left the house with my
brother and sisters, and I remained at home with my father, Ruba, and
my baby brother Qusai.

I tidied up the
house and then went out onto the roof to see what was happening in the
area. I saw three tanks standing side by side about 500 meters from our
house. When I saw the tanks, I immediately went back into the house
because I was afraid I’d get hurt.

Around
8:30, my father went next door to his friend’s house. I stayed at home
with Ruba and Qusai. We sat in the living room and watched cartoons on
television. About half an hour later, the electricity was cut off. At
around 12:00, I heard somebody call my name. I went to the window and
saw my mother. She asked me to open the door. “How did you get home?” I
asked her. She said somebody had brought her home through the fields.
She came quickly into the house and went to the kitchen to prepare
lunch for us. I went into the kitchen too and fried potatoes. When we
finished eating, she sat down to study. She was studying at the al-Quds
Open University. I played with my brother and sister. We heard the
sound of gunfire outside. I looked out the window and saw a bulldozer
about 30 meters from our house. A few minutes later, the gunfire
stopped.

Around 4:15 P.M., I prayed. There
still wasn’t any electricity. After I finished praying, I sat with my
mother in my room and read the Quran. Suddenly, we heard a door crash
to the ground. We looked out the window and saw an army bulldozer
shoveling the ground and knocking down the fence in the yard of our
neighbor, Ibrahim Abu Latifah. The bulldozer destroyed his house.

We
all sat on the floor in the room and heard the tanks coming toward our
house. I also heard voices of soldiers talking in Hebrew next to the
window. My mother told me she was going to put her outer garment so she
could answer the door quickly in case the soldiers came knocking. She
put it on and stood by the door on the eastern side of the house. I
stood by the window on that side of the house, from where I heard the
soldiers’ voices. Suddenly, I heard a huge explosion inside the house
and saw a red ray of light. Smoke filled the house and there were
pieces of glass and wood all over the floor. I couldn’t see my mother
because the smoke was so thick.

I went
to where my mother had been standing and found two soldiers inside the
house. One of them looked at my mother, who was lying on the floor, and
said in Arabic, “great”. I went back to the room right away because I
was afraid of them. One of the soldiers stood at the door of the room.
Ruba and Qusai were screaming and crying. It was 4:30 P.M.

I
saw soldiers going into the rooms of the house. Some other soldiers
took carpets that were on the floor and used them to cover my mother.
The soldiers had lots of weapons, and were wearing helmets with green
cloth netting. They also had a thick pipe about one meter long that was
army-green in color. They looked scary.

I
asked one of the soldiers where my mother was, but he didn’t answer me.
They spoke among themselves in Hebrew. I started crying and asked
again, “Where is my mother?” But they didn’t answer me. Then I asked if
I could go to the bathroom, so I would have a chance to leave the room
and see what happened to my mother. One of the soldiers said to me in
Arabic, “Come.” When I left the room, I saw four soldiers standing in
the corridor leading to the bathroom near where my mother had been
standing. The soldier who spoke Arabic told me to go to the other
bathroom, so that I wouldn’t see my mother lying on the floor, between
her room and the first bathroom. The soldier went with me to the
bathroom, and then I went back to the room.

There
were lots of soldiers in the house. I stayed in the room with Ruba and
Qusai. One of the soldiers sat by the entrance. His eyes were closed
and it looked like he was asleep. My mother’s cell phone was by me so I
sent a text message to my father that Mother had been hurt and that
there were soldiers in the house, but he didn’t come home. There was
still no electricity.

Around 9 P.M., I
heard the soldiers getting up and moving things. I think they were
getting their equipment together to leave the house. A few minutes
later, they began to leave the house. One of them said goodbye and
waved to me as he was leaving

When they
were out of the house, I wanted to go to my grandfather’s house, which
is about 300 meters from our house, but the soldiers were still outside
and I was afraid to leave. Two hours later, at 11 P.M., the soldiers
left. I picked up Qusai and Ruba ran beside me all the way to our
grandfather’s house.

On the way, I saw
aunts of mine. I told them that my mother had been injured by a shell
and that she might be dead. They began to scream. I continued to my
grandfather’s house. My Uncle Muhammad was there and I told him my
mother was dead. He didn’t believe me and ran to our house. I stayed at
my grandfather’s house, crying over my mother, whom the Israeli
soldiers had killed for no reason. She remained in the house for hours
and wasn’t taken to the hospital. It was a horrible sight.

Around 11:15 P.M., an ambulance came and took my mother to Nasser Hospital, in Khan Yunis.

Samira
Majdi ‘Abd a-Razeq a-Daghameh, 13, is a school pupil and a resident of
Khan Yunis. Her testimony was given to Muhammad Sabah at the witness’s
home on 10 May 2008.