Abdul Rahman Abed wrote his will before his martyrdom, and many of the youth of the West Bank have done the same in recent years (social networking sites)

He was not eighty or seventy, nor even sixty or fifty years old. Rather, he was on the verge of life, but he chose to write his will, as many young people in the occupied West Bank have done in recent years, especially after the outbreak of the war on Gaza, as the newspaper wrote. Israeli Haaretz in an investigation by Gideon Levy entitled “Youth is writing its will in the West Bank.”

The investigation monitors the last days of the young man Abd al-Rahman Abed, who was killed at the end of last January by occupation soldiers.

Abdul Rahman did not leave out a detail - says Haaretz - except that he included it in his will, which he wrote in his fine handwriting, and entrusted it to a friend of his: “Bury me quickly, and do not leave me in the mortuary,” and “Choose for me the best pictures for my obituary on social media, and do not forget a verse from the Qur’an.” ", "Don't make me cry," and "Stay a little at my grave after I'm buried... but don't be sad and keep my best memories for yourselves."

Iyad Haddad, an investigator for the Israeli human rights organization B'Tselem, could not help but cry as he translated the text of the will for a Haaretz journalist.

He saw a lot of killing to which Palestinians were subjected during his 24 years of work with the organization - says Haaretz - but his heart beats at the will of a boy who has not yet reached 18 years old.

As for Father Abdul Rahim, he stands with sad eyes dried with tears.

Eid is not complete

Abdul Rahman was on the cusp of his 18th birthday, when an Israeli bullet ended his life in the middle of the day on January 29, along with his dream of studying medicine, which kept him up for long nights.

He went out that day to what he thought was another day, but it turned out to be his last day.

He was killed by a single bullet from an Israeli soldier or policeman in the town of Silwad on his way back from school.

The town - from which Khaled Meshal, head of the political bureau of the Islamic Resistance Movement (Hamas) abroad, hails - has tired the Israeli army with its spirit of resistance, adds Haaretz.

150 metres

7 of the town's residents were killed in the past five years, as was Abdul Rahman.

Abdul Rahman would not return home until he heard on social media that the army was leaving after invading it in the morning.

However, according to B'Tselem investigator Iyad Haddad, two Israeli jeeps were on the street he was on at that moment, and between the workshops of a few villas there were a number of children waiting for the opportunity to throw stones at the vehicles.

A single bullet fired from the direction of the two jeeps hit Abdul Rahman in the chest, then the two vehicles quickly left with their “heroes,” Haaretz adds, not before destroying the life of a Palestinian boy and the life of an entire family.

The Israeli police responded to Haaretz’s inquiry about the circumstances of the incident with a familiar statement: “During one of their operations, the security forces suspected that a Molotov cocktail had been thrown at their members in a way that threatened their lives. A bullet was fired at the suspect, and the threat was neutralized.”

Even though Abdul Rahman was 150 meters away from the two jeeps, he could not have hit them if he wanted to, and assuming he was involved in the accident in the first place.

An eyewitness who was on the balcony of a nearby house and refused to reveal his identity told the Israeli newspaper that complete calm descended on the place at the moment of the incident after Israeli tear gas filled the sky. Only the fatal bullet coming from the direction of the two jeeps shattered the silence, as he put it.

A Palestinian ambulance driver who was waiting nearby (as is the custom of ambulance teams during every invasion) saw Abdel Rahman falling to the ground, and realized he was alive, but only for a short time, Haaretz says.

"Get some sleep!"

Abd al-Rahman (the eldest son of Abd al-Rahim and Inam Eid) was tall and handsome.

He was passionate about football, but he preferred to give all his attention to his studies in the last months of his life, hoping to achieve high grades in the Tawjihi exam and win a university scholarship.

The father remembers that on the day he was killed, he wanted to wake him up at six in the morning, but he chose to let him sleep a little, after he spent long hours of the night devoted to his books.

When the parents received the first call after the incident, they thought it was about their other son Suleiman (15 years old), who works in a construction workshop in Silwad. They were reassured that Abdul Rahman was at school.

But one of the father’s brothers called him and asked him to rush to the government hospital in Ramallah, as “Obaida (Abdul Rahman’s nickname) was injured.”

The father quickly called his “injured” son, and the ambulance responded and reassured him of his condition, but in the second call he described the injury as critical.

When the father reached the hospital, the son was dead.

On one of the walls of the living room of the small family house hung pictures of Abdul Rahman, and on another wall there were pictures of an aunt and uncle who were also killed by the occupation army.

The uncle was exactly the same age when he was killed by an Israeli bullet in 1998, but he did not think to write his will before his death.

Death was not as widespread then as it is today.

Source: Haaretz