Little Palestine (Diary of a Siege) (2021) - full transcript

Abdallah Al-Khatib, I'm defecting
from the United Nations.

This is my ID card…

Abdallah Al-Khatib.
that's me.

"The bearer of this card whose
name appears on the back...

…is a staff member
of the United Nations.

He is entitled to the resources and
protection of the United Nations."

From 2013 to 2015, the Assad regime
besieged a district of Damascus

which was called "Yarmouk Camp"
and where lived

the largest concentration of
Palestinian refugees in the world.

No one could either enter or leave.

Little by little, the camp
was deprived of food, water



electricity, medicine.

Everyone was trying to adapt
in their own way.

Umm Mahmoud, my mother,
volunteered as a nurse

to take care of the elderly.

Sometimes, my friends and I
would take a camera

to record the daily life
during the siege.

The horizon was open to
endless possibilities.

We walked towards it
confidently.

Without noticing that
something strange was looming.

We were happy in the blue sky
and the sound of the wind.

Suddenly, a heavy dust
flooded the space.

The colors and the people
disappeared.

Time stopped
beyond the roadblock.

And now everything is moving along
to the rhythm of the siege.



At first we couldn't believe it.

But something finally
made us realize

that the time of peaceful bonfires
was gone forever.

The - people - want
the road to be opened!

Out, out, out!
Abdallah, get out!

Out, out, out!
Abdallah, get out!

- Who's with me?
- Me!

For those who are with me…
Go get me chocolate.

The - people - want
shawarma with meat!

You’re the only ones on my side?
You're all against me?

The people wants eggs and milk!

Who’s with Abdallah
and who’s against him?

We're all against him.

Ok so you 4…
you'll get biscuits.

- Who cares…
- We’ve got loads of them anyway!

How can we convince them
to find a solution for the camp?

Wait for your turn to speak.

They need to find a solution
so we get our childhood back.

Just re-open the roads!

What if they say
they don’t want to?

Then send us back to Palestine!

Bring some airplanes
and send us back to Palestine.

Nice.

Now what were you saying?

She thought it was a joke…

Qusay and Muaz are coming.

- Who do you love?
- Muaz!

- The king of rats.
- Muaz!

- Who do you love?
- Muaz!

- The king of rats.
- Muaz!

Come here, Muaz!

If you were our leader
what would you say, Ansam?

- What about me?
- Later. Ansam.

- Yes.
- What do you mean, "yes"?

I'd say they have
to re-open the roads.

It’s our right to be able to eat,
drink and be safe.

That’s my position.

What if they say: "We don’t want
to deal with the camp."

- Well they just have to!
- Let them live under siege too!

In that case, God will judge them.
I’d tell them that at least.

- It’s too small!
- Any bigger and it’ll burst.

- Ok then leave it.
- Like this?

- Not until it bursts?
- No.

- What?
- Don't make it burst.

- It's good like this.
- Yes, now it will fly.

- Yes. Where to?
- To the sky.

No, to the swing!

- To the swing?
- Yes.

Out of the way,
it’s going to fly!

Out of the way.

When your mum gets back,
give one to Hammoud too.

Ok.

- Where did she go?
- My mother?

- Yes.
- To the mosque.

- Why?
- To pray, like "Allahu Akbar".

- Abdallah, where's your mother?
- Praying in the mosque.

Make it fly to the sky.

- Why?
- To catch it later on.

- Catch it?
- From the sky.

- So I send it flying?
- Yes.

Fly!

Fly!

- It burst.
- Yes!

Blow it up again.

I'll tell my mother
to give you a new one.

Mother!

Aisha!

Mother!

Ok good.

Good.

We defused the landmines,

fixed the bread ovens,
and God is with us, right.

And when hell freezes over,

they’ll re-open the roads.
Yes.

We’re working bit by bit,

trying to keep our cool,
for everybody’s sake.

Thank you.

Yes, of course.

They put the delegation
on a turtle, it's that slow.

We keep praying, some days
are better than others.

Where are we going?
We film there and then see?

Today, we only film
one of them.

Couldn't we film several today?

- No, I don't have the time.
- Ok.

- Ready?
- Me? Yes.

- Let's go, where should we film?
- In the school yard?

Good idea, there's a shade there.

- Let's go.
- We can sit there.

I have kept my accent.
I'm preserving our… you know…

Some change their accent,
they speak like Syrians.

You wouldn't guess
they're Palestinian.

After years of living together,
some mixing happens.

These youngsters mix
in schools, at work,

they all end up
speaking like that.

- Exactly.
- I couldn't change my accent.

What was that?
Maybe they’re bombing us.

Don't worry.

You'll be covered in dust.
Use this.

No, I’ll use mine.
I'll just remove the dust.

- So as not to be covered in…
- I’ll move it closer.

- No, it's fine.
- As you wish.

I just don’t want you
to get dirty.

- Didn’t you want to interview me?
- We do!

I’ll answer
according to your questions.

- When did you leave Palestine?
- Me? In 1948.

- How old were you?
- About 15.

- So you remember?
- Of course!

- She was a teenager!
- When I left, yes.

The truth is the Syrian people
have been good to us.

They embraced us,
provided food and water.

They'd bring food to our homes,
I swear.

We never felt humiliated,
God forbid!

We were never hungry or thirsty,
or experienced hardship.

But for the last 7 months
we've really been suffering.

When the air force attacked
the camp, people fled.

- Did it feel like 1948?
- Of course!

Those who fled are crazy,
I would never leave.

They turned away and fled, why?

The aircraft bombed and then left.
They were unharmed!

Why run away?
I'm really mad at them.

They shouldn’t have left.

They should stay, endure,
and keep calm.

Now the camp is ruined.
Destroyed. It's gone.

Why didn't you leave?
What if you were hit by a shell?

Let it hit, my dear!
Many have already…

- Why didn't you leave?
- Our façade collapsed and…

Me, leave? Our first wound
is not enough for you, dear?

I will never leave.
They can kill me.

- I’ll stay with you.
- It’s the right thing to do.

- Your family still here?
- Only my son here.

So he’s your son!
God protect him.

- Where do you live?
- In Yarmouk. Near Jenin Club.

- Are you scared of the shelling?
- No.

Don’t be, bravo.

I was living alone already
when the shelling happened.

I had my children
and grandchildren with me.

But they…

They left during Ramadan,
to get food…

- and got stuck outside!
- My husband too!

He’s stuck outside the siege.

YOU WILL NOT EXILE US
FROM OUR CAMP

The siege is as long
as a day in prison.

Like a railway in the desert
on a hot summer day.

A path leading to madness
or suicide.

Under siege,

time is the true prison
of the besieged.

KILLING THE FLOWERS
WILL NOT DELAY SPRING
Beware. Time kills
those who follow it.

Leave it alone.

Fill the void with meaning
as much as you can.

Find meaning in a clean road,

after the destruction
caused by an aircraft.

Pick up a broom.

Find meaning

in a child whose smile
withstands the siege.

Make a paper plane.

Find meaning

in details you fear will disappear.

Pick up a camera.

Find meaning

in a fleeting moment of joy
one evening.

Sing.

To the unwavering.
To the flag-bearers.

To the flag of Palestine,
and of Syria.

And Yarmouk. And Yalda,
Babbila and Beit Sahem.

To those present
and those absent.

To those who came,
and those who didn't.

To those who applauded,
and those who didn't.

To the steadfast and the displaced.
To the exiled and the imprisoned.

To those who love the Prophet,
pray for him.

"The wheat fields,
the wheat fields…"

Come in!

We are the people of Palestine.

The refugees, the wretched.

We still celebrate
our joyous occasions.

Our children’s weddings.

Your brother Abu Alaa,
born in Palestine,

is marrying off his son Hamouda,
on the 14th land of exile.

We are a people
who does not fear death.

We are a steadfast people.

As the Prophet Muhammad said:

"The people of the Levant
are steadfast,

them and their descendants,
until the Judgment Day…"

Shut the fuck up, jerk!

Any bachelor is an idiot
until he gets married.

Well said.

We are being subjected
to extermination.

They’re chucking barrel bombs,
missiles, everything at us…

Nothing can protect us
but our own willies of prey.

- Whoever doesn't have a willy…
- Should go get one.

Look at those rusted 25 years old,
without children.

At your age I already had four!

- Shame on you.
- They want a house and a job…

We used to get married in a tent!

- In a tent, tell them!
- In a tent, yes.

Which one of you wasn't conceived
in a tent?

Most of you
were conceived in the fields.

- "God will make the poor rich."
- Child first and wealth follows.

A Palestinian immigrates,
but his balls stay home.

I've had it with you.

No immigrating Palestinian testicle
has ever been recorded.

"He who's getting married,
may God grant him more."

And the bachelor
should raise his hand.

My wife is as beautiful
as the full moon,

Glory to the Creator.

What are you up to?

- What’s up?
- We want to draw on the walls.

- Draw what?
- We want to draw…

- Everyone has their own drawing.
- We want to draw for peace.

- For what?
- Peace.

Why?

So they understand us.

Who?

- What?
- Who "they"?

- Humans.
- Whoever’s blocking peace.

For those outside to hear us.

Ok. What will you draw?

- What will you draw?
- Uh…

A whale, a bear, and a flower.

- Louder!
- A whale, a bear, and a flower!

Why a whale, a bear,
and a flower?

- Why?
- Because they told us to.

- They told you what to draw?
- Yes.

You’re not drawing what you want?

- No.
- Yes, but…

- Ok cut!
- No, speak your mind.

Don't be scared.

- Come back, don't be scared.
- I’m not!

So they told you to draw
a whale…

and a monkey - oops!
I mean a flower.

- No.
- Then, what?

Nothing. We can draw and write
what we want about peace.

- What did you decide to draw?
- A gun with an X on it,

and another
shooting out love hearts.

- With love hearts?
- Yes, and written on it:

"The darkness of war shall leave,
the candles of peace will be lit".

Hello.

Is the old lady here?

- Can we come in?
- Please come in.

Let’s greet the young men first.

Hello guys.

Ibrahim, take the old man’s
ID card to the NGO,

they need all his information.

Are they going to evacuate him?

- Maybe, but register him first.
- I’m not registering anything…

- How are you feeling?
- Tired.

- She's tired.
- Why?

- She hasn't eaten for days.
- Why not?

- Why aren't you eating?
- She has no appetite.

Can't even drink water.

Your hands are warm.

No, you’re fine.
But you have to eat.

If you don’t eat,
you won’t get better.

- I can't.
- What’s wrong?

If you ask me to move my legs,
I just can't.

- Because you're not eating!
- I can’t.

Is your mouth dry?

- Huh?
- Is your mouth dry?

She hasn't eaten in three days.

We tried but she refused.

- I see.
- What shall we do?

Fluids. Soup.

- We are making a lot of it.
- Cactus soup, they say it's good.

She doesn't like it at all!
She throws it in my face.

Why don’t you have cactus soup?

Thank you for your kindness.

- You haven't forgotten about me.
- Nobody has and I won’t.

- God bless you.
- Get her rice or something.

I don't want rice or anything else.

What are we supposed to do?
A kilo of rice costs about 10,000.

We’re forced to eat weeds,
damn it.

We don’t have enough to buy rice,
so what are we supposed to eat?

- Normally we trash this…
- I swear I ate it last night.

Peel it and eat it.

This is a potato.

It’s my invention.

There’s nothing left to eat.
No more weeds, nothing but cactus.

I had radish, but I ran out.
God only knows for tomorrow.

Think of what the bastards outside
eat and look at us…

If they had a conscience…

It's not that bad, it's good.
If you cook it, it's good.

Brother, if we don't eat…
At least it fills our stomachs.

Make sure you boil it well.

I swear if we had a choice…
I don't know…

God Almighty.

- How many did you get?
- Three.

I swear if it stays like this,
I'll kill a dog and eat it.

I swear I will.

I’ll slaughter it here,
grill it and eat it.

I'll soak it in garlic and vinegar
and eat it.

Under siege,

walking is a ritual of survival.

The ultimate practice of freedom,

training for the isolation
imposed by the darkness of home.

Under siege,
people endlessly walk

in districts
with fragmented boundaries.

They pick up pieces of smiles

that death didn’t stumble
upon the previous night.

They search for food among
the weeds that grow secretely

in the corners of pavements.

Walking under siege

is the final weapon
to defend the details

of a place against loss.

Under siege,

walk as much as you can.

But don’t trample on anything
you might have to eat one day.

Walk on air.

For the second time, our group
of Red Crescent volunteers

went to get food parcels from
the checkpoint and again we failed.

The distribution point
was targeted with 23mm munitions.

This time, five tank shells
were fired at the same location.

It's the 2° time we try, and again
the aid can't enter the camp.

Why is it failing every time?

There is no genuine will to lift
the siege of Yarmouk.

There is no real pressure put
on the Syrian government

to make them allow food
into Yarmouk.

Otherwise, we wouldn't have
to walk all this way for nothing.

And if you don't let the food in,
just let the people go outside.

For 6 months, they let people
go out to get food.

Open the road,
so people can get food,

stop pretending it's impossible
because of armed groups.

If they wanted to allow food in,
they would organize aid drops.

Instead of dropping barrel bombs,
they could drop food parcels.

It costs just as much.

They could even drop both:
barrel bombs and wheat.

A barrel bomb on the right,
and some wheat on the left.

That would be ok, we'll take it.
But there's no will.

The aim is to wipe out Yarmouk and
the Palestinian presence in Syria,

and the right
to return from this place.

Sir, we're picking these weeds,
is that ok?

Since Abdallah is filming you, ok.
Otherwise I'd kick you out of here!

All right, film us!

There is Abdallah.

I'm eating weeds, look!

Booga (Abdallah) is filming us!

We're eating cattle food!

There you go.

- Can I blow it up?
- Yes, whatever you want.

- How are you?
- We're good.

Good?
Are you cold?

Yes.

- I'm so sorry, why?
- I don't know how to inflate it.

- Shall I do it?
- Yes.

At your service.

- Do you want it big or small?
- Big.

- Is this good?
- Yes.

- What's your name?
- Abboudeh.

Abboudeh, nice name.

She overslept, it seems.

- Hello, how are you?
- Hi.

Good morning.

Give me your hand.

Give me your hand.

Let me sit you down on a chair.

How are you doing?

Did you recognize me?
Who am I?

I'm the doctor.

I came the other day
for your blood pressure.

- Welcome.
- Thank you.

How are you?

Getting better, I hope.

- How are you?
- Good, seeing you makes me happy.

- Shall I take your blood pressure?
- You can take whatever you want.

She’s got high blood pressure.

16/10. You have to give her
the drug to bring it down.

How do you feel?
Anything in particular?

Not really.
So I have to take it every day?

Of course, every day.

- Really?
- Yes! Not when you feel like it!

I give it to her, but then
she forgets to take it.

No, you have to take it.

So that your blood pressure
goes back to normal.

- Ok, I will…
- I'll test your blood sugar level?

Give me your hand.

In the name of God the merciful…

I'm sorry.

She's dehydrated.

Try these.

What is this?

Candy.

Take the whole bag.

PALESTINE HOSPITAL

UNRWA!
United Nations!

Red Crescent!
Red Cross!

We are in Yarmouk Camp,
for the Palestinian refugees!

We call you.
We implore you.

We are without medicine.

We’ve torn up our blankets.

Our bandages are from our blankets.

From our… head…
Shoulders!

We use our keffiyeh for bandages!

People, we need medicine.

The bleeding man…
has no bleeding stop utilities.

We have no equipment
to stop the bleeding.

Our wounded are bleeding to death.

Where are you, Red Cross?

You represent Christ!

Christ is a Palestinian!

And he's a refugee in heaven.

The people of Yarmouk are dying!

From Yarmouk to Palestine!

God is greater!

Open the checkpoints,
break the siege!

"I'm case 80. I died from hunger
in the siege of Yarmouk Camp"

The besieged partake in their pain
as if it were a message from heaven

apportioned by prophets.

There is enough pain in sorrow

for everyone to feel
the need for tears.

One ceiling collapsing is enough
for everyone to feel exposed.

Sorrow is as obvious as an apple,

as obsessive as a loaf of bread,

as open as the sky.

All the mothers cry
over a child who’s not theirs

when they see the thirst
in the cradle,

and the eternal sleep.

Under siege,
individual sorrow is a luxury,

and secret sorrow,
an unforgiveable betrayal.

For the besieged,
collective pain is

a quality
and the path to survival.

Under siege,

don’t hide your sorrow
from others like a hero.

Feel the pain

and weep with them
as much as you can.

She just had some milk
and vitamins.

- What's her name?
- Israa.

- Did you get her milk today?
- A tiny bit, not enough for a day.

As for tomorrow, God only knows.
There's nothing left.

Prayer for the dead at the mosque
for the martyrs of hunger.

Oh mother,
God is greater than they are!

Oh mother, they killed Israa
with their bare hands!

There is no God but Allah!

And the murderer is
the enemy of God!

Oh mother,
God is greater than they are!

Oh mother, they killed Israa
with their bare hands!

Oh mother, they killed Israa
with their bare hands!

The siege will expel humanity from
the hidden crevices of the soul,

all at once,
and with great violence.

It will blow apart
your internal contradictions.

Good will push you
to run behind rockets

and lift the rubble off children
left by their parents

when they fled
at the sound of an airplane.

Evil will tempt you to sell
the milk of the same children

in order to buy a pinch of tobacco.

Under siege,

watch over yourself carefully.

Defeat the evil
that exists within you.

Children are dying.

A baby can't get a drop of milk.
Or any food.

Our stomachs have dried up.

I swear to God I'm suffering
from dehydration.

What is this?

Why don't we just get rid of this?
Let's storm the checkpoint.

Death only comes once!
Once, my son.

Let's all storm the checkpoint.

Either we die, or we’re saved.

Yarmouk! Yarmouk!

The - people - wants
to break the siege!

They're going for it!

Go! Go! Go!

Film me, Abdallah!

Yarmouk, Yarmouk!

Yarmouk’s inhabitants are trying
to break Bashar's siege.

God is great!
Look, Al-Rijeh Square!

- Long time no see…
- God, how beautiful.

Come here Abdallah.

You can film from here.

One, one, one,
Palestinians and Syrians are one!

Peaceful, peaceful!

Get inside!

Slow death by hunger
is unlike any other death

in the grief and agony
of the besieged.

A mother cries on her way back
because she has no food

for her children who haven’t
eaten anything for days.

She cries out of powerlessness.

She cries even more
when she sees a plane overhead

bearing another death
with another taste.

A quicker death,
which she longs for,

a less painful death for herself
and for her children.

She wishes for it.

She cries even more
when the plane ignores her.

No death resembles death
under siege.

Resentment kindles the desire
for the most extreme justice.

Under siege,

justice means revenge,
and revenge only.

Beware of excessive spite and hate,

for you will lose yourself.

Due to the lack
of food and medication.

We're going to the Palestine Hospital
for the autopsy,

and then we'll wash her body.

God protect you, Umm Mahmoud.

- God sends good people our way.
- Are you going to the hospital?

The poor woman, she lived alone
and died of hunger.

Only one woman
used to visit her every day.

May she be rewarded.
This is the woman.

… first a death certificate,
and then the religious committee.

Rest in peace, Hamda.

- Should I go too, Umm Mahmoud?
- Yes.

- Are you going?
- Maybe.

Thank God for you,
Umm Mahmoud.

- Thank you.
- May she rest in peace.

- How many old people do you visit?
- So many…

- How many have died?
- Many have died.

They dropped it!

Ambulance!

Lift him up!

Film this! Here is your barrel,
Bashar al-Assad!

God is greater!

Kill us with missiles,
we won’t starve to death.

We won’t die without dignity.

Get out the way for the ambulance!

Bring them here!

The building is about to collapse!

It was a barrel bomb.

"One, one, one!
Palestinians and Syrians are one!"

We were "one, one, one"
until they fucked us.

- Keep calm.
- I am calm.

You're being divisive.

This has nothing to do with us!

Film everything, film!

Here is the humanitarian aid
for Yarmouk. Right here!

Missile after missile…

Let me hear you, Yarmouk!

Missile after missile…

And Yarmouk becomes more glorious!

Yarmouk becomes more glorious!

Get the pliers from Abu Ezz,
tell him it's for Jamal.

I'm fixing the internet cable
so that I can make calls.

We want to live.
We were born to live!

Let’s spell it out to them:
we were born to live.

Neither they nor their bombs
will finish us off.

Only God Almighty
can finish us off.

They can’t finish anything off,
apart from themselves.

They belittle themselves.
Which is their own misfortune.

I AM FROM A COUNTRY WHERE WINDOWS
OPEN ON THE ABSENCE OF FOOD.

This way, this way.

The clock ticks on

same as everyday

And the night seeks

A little sleep

The clock ticks on
same as everyday

And the night seeks
A little sleep

The clock ticks on

And the night is still dark

The clock ticks on
and the night is still dark

Time stretches on

And the moon isn't yet full.

Time stretches on

And the moon isn't yet full.

The clock ticks on.

And the pain is all behind me.

A bird was singing on a stone

Yarmouk is nothing but
papers and images now

The door of joy opened

But the pain is bigger

Where is the pain gone?

Under siege,

a fire that winter snuffed out
will be kindled inside you.

With a blow, all your values
will collapse in front of you.

When you see your memories
silently playing out,

when the future sticks out
its tongue sarcastically,

when the most obvious answers
to simple questions

are as rare as a lump of sugar,

when you feel like
your existence in the universe

doesn’t measure up
to a sesame seed,

pull yourself together.
Don’t surrender.

Open your eyes and scream:

I will defeat this siege.
I will defeat this siege.

- Young man!
- Yes, sir.

Do you have a sugar almond
or something?

I swear to God, I don't.

A sugar almond or anything…

- You live alone, no children?
- No, I won’t lie. You know…

- You're all alone.
- I am, yes.

- And you're still in the camp.
- I live in the camp.

What does the Yarmouk Camp
mean to you?

I don't know…

It’s a camp.

- How do you get by?
- I buy herbs here and there.

and I cook them in this pot.

With this oil.
And I have these spices.

Here they are, do you see?

Here are the spices

and here is the oil.

What can I do?

- When did you last have rice?
- I haven't since… I crave it.

I wish I had a plate of rice.
I swear to God. And to Muhammad.

- It's been a long time?
- It has… yes.

There’s no rice.
I beg for some herbs over there.

I borrow anything for a fire,
and you saw the rest.

I need to eat.

What can I do?

SEEKING HUMANITARIAN ASYLUM.

The people of Yarmouk
sign this petition

for humanitarian asylum
from European countries,

and all other countries
that respect human rights.

We want bread.

22 January 2014

65 years,
and we haven’t got anywhere.

We don’t want Palestine.
Just get us out of Syria!

Is there anything worse
than this hunger?

You go there, humiliation!
You come here, humiliation!

Wherever you go, humiliation!

In Europe at least you live
like a human, not an animal.

Animals live better than us.

A delegation came to the school!

- What’s the delegation for?
- To open the road.

- Where’s the delegation from?
- From outside. Film me!

- What are they going to do?
- It’s to bring us food.

- Maybe they won’t let the food in?
- They will. If not, God help us!

- What do you expect from this?
- To eat!

- What about the resistance?
- I want roasted chicken!

Good morning, guys.

Give me your ID card
if you're from the camp.

- He's Palestinian-Jordanian.
- Then they won’t give him any.

We'll bring you a food box
when we're back.

I don't want any food box!

I'm not going to do a picnic.
Wait in the hospital, my dear.

- Please, take me with you.
- I’ll take care of you.

- Go inside, have some rest.
- Take me with you.

It's not a pleasant trip, I swear.

It's an uncomfortable journey,
I swear.

Take your ID son, keep it with you.

My dear, wait for me here.

Wait for us until
we bring you back a food box.

It's very tough at the checkpoint.

It won’t work, I can't bring you.

- I can't take her with me.
- Why?

She can't stand up!
It's dangerous at the checkpoint.

- There are doctors there.
- Doctors? Oh please!

Yesterday a man died
after being trampled.

You know who it was?
Ghada's husband.

Walid's sister,
Sanaa's daughter-in-law.

- Really?
- Yes, him.

God have mercy!

See? She's unwell, what can I do?

Let her sit.

- Yes, but her leg’s broken.
- Let me sit in the back instead.

Come on,
we'll be back in 5 minutes.

Umm Mahmoud…!

Enough! I'll be back in 5 minutes.

People of Yarmouk,

please step back a little.

Please, you will all get a box
but move back.

Please step back.

Step back, step back!

Please sit down! Sit down!

We don't want their help.

Just open the road, let us out,
we can sleep on the street.

We don't want to sit here,
we don't want to stay.

We want to earn our food and eat
with dignity. No boxes.

Lift the siege.
We've waited since 5am for nothing.

Those who know people get things,
but we don't.

We have no one but God.
We only have God on our side.

The besieged becomes addicted to
the idea of the siege,

like the prisoner gets addicted
to the darkness of the prison

out of fear of the sun.

You might see the siege falter
suddenly,

and believe it will end,

and you’ll feel terrified
on its behalf.

You’ll say:

What happens after the siege?

You’ll be frightened of the life
without the siege.

You've forgotten this life,
and how to live it.

But don’t worry
and have no regrets.

Trust that you’ve won because
you’ve been united with the siege.

If the siege ends before you do,

cling tight to what it taught you.
Don’t forget anything.

For you might have to survive death
in an even greater siege.

Where people die
from indigestion and servility,

not from hunger and dignity.

I dream of seeing my mother
and eating bread.

Like everyone!

I dream of all the detainees
being released.

I want to hear my grandmother,
to eat bread,

and for everybody to be fine,
may it please God.

I dream of breaking the siege.

I dream of eating shawarma and
seeing Hassan Hassan online again.

I dream of my father returning.

I dream of eating
a chicken sandwich.

- I dream of eating shawarma.
- I dream of eating sugar.

I dream of my father going back
to how he was.

I dream of the camp
going back to how it was.

I dream of the road opening.

- I also dream of the road opening.
- You just spoke!

You said you dreamed of sugar!

I dream of my brother
coming back to life.

I do! I dream that my brother
is alive again.

Because I miss him so much.

- What are you doing?
- Foraging for some verbena.

- Foraging for what?
- Verbena.

- Why? Is it edible?

We didn't use to eat it, but now,
because of the hunger, we do.

- Do you eat it everyday?
- We don't have anything else.

Huh?

We do eat it everyday,
we can't find anything else.

Sometimes we just boil water and…

- Water and what?
- And spices.

- Where are you from?
- Al-Hajirah.

- What grade are you in?
- Fourth grade.

- Are you going to school?
- No.

Why not?

We could, but they won't let us
because we're displaced.

Who?
Did you try registering?

Try, they'll let you. I know
a school that will admit you.

- Do you want to register?
- I’ve already missed half of it.

- It's not worth it?
- Not this year.

- Can you eat it raw?
- Well, you cook it.

But you're eating it raw.

Let me have some.

You can make salads and soups
with it, it's tasty.

They say it's poisonous.

Only the big blooming ones.
This one has no flowers.

The blooming ones are poisonous?

Yes. They sell big ones at the
market but these ones are small.

These are good?

- What's your name?
- Tasnim.

What did you use to dream about,
Tasnim?

- I never dreamed of anything.
- Nothing?

- Food, that's all.
- And now what do you dream about?

- Just food.
- What do you feel like?

Everything. Fries, pizza, chicken,
halva, jam, bread…

- Bread is what I miss the most.
- You miss bread?

It's ok.
God will compensate us one day.

Aren't you afraid
of the sound of shelling?

I'm not afraid.
We're used to it.

- What if a shell landed here?
- Then God have mercy on our souls.

- What?
- God have mercy on our souls.

God have mercy on our souls.

- Don't you love life?
- I love it, but not here.

- Where then?
- Outside.

With food and joy, school and play.

And television.

- But here, life’s unlovable.
- It’s unlovable.

Are you tired?

We're tired,
but what can we do?

Children toil until
they're exhausted these days.

They’re exhausted.

Some children collect
firewood for warmth.

Some children forage for food.

That’s what happens
to children here?

Before, they'd go to school
and play… Now what?

Now they've grown old
and they’re exhausted.

- They've grown old?
- They’ve grown old.

All of us. Even my sister
picks these and eats them.

She's one and a half year old.

There she is,
foraging with my other sister.

- Where are your parents?
- At home.

Dad is checking on the food boxes,
and the road, or whatever…

Mummy is working around the house,
and when…

When I bring these,
she'll cook them for us.

Sometimes she forages with us.
But I have a little brother.

He stays at home.
He's 6 months old.

He cries when he’s left alone.

Tasnim,
are you scared of tomorrow?

- Huh?
- Are you scared of tomorrow?

No, I'm not scared.

Are you scared things
will get even worse?

I hope they don't get worse.
Even worse than this?

Here we are, eating verbena and…

My dad went to that school, where
they're giving out water with…

spices…
He went to get some.

There’s nothing left.

And my mother isn't eating enough
she's not…

She can’t…

- Milk.
- Yes, and then…

My brother cries all the time.
He's hungry.

Once our neighbors received
an aid basket,

and because it has milk,
they gave it to us.

Because every day and night,
he wants milk.

There's shrapnel falling here.

- Were you frightened?
- No.

- Nothing to be afraid of.
- I was scared.

- My heart skipped a beat.
- So you were scared.

Look, it hit right next to us.

This building?

We didn’t even notice it!

181 Yarmouk inhabitants
starved to death during the siege.

In 2015, the Islamic State
took control of the Camp.

In 2018, allegedly to wipe
the Islamic State, Russian planes

and the Syrian army destroyed
80% of Yarmouk Camp.

And allowed Isis to escape
to the Syrian desert.

The regime prevented people from
returning to their destroyed homes

The inhabitants of the Camp
were scattered all over the world.

My mother - Umm Mahmoud - and I
now live in Germany.

Umm Mahmoud still dreams
of returning to Yarmouk Camp

so her old dream of returning
to Palestine would come true.