M is a 30 year old, mother of 3, pregnant woman living in a shelter in Tel Aviv. She has a sweet disposition and despite the fact that her 3 year old son (up until this week her other two children were in Egypt) can be a total “terrible three” terror, handles herself and him with grace and dignity. She is soft spoken, but people always seen drawn to her.
Last night her two other children, via discussions between UNHCR, ARDC and of course the Israeli military, were returned to her. They came from Egypt to Israel without parents–as their mother, M, was already here and their father (unknown to their mother up until last night) died in Egypt on his way to join his family. These kids had to tell their 8 month pregnant mother about what happened to her husband, their father. From this scenario, you’d hardly know that these two children are about 8 and 10 years old respectively.
As her grief set in, and her cries became louder and higher pitched, the entire female population of the shelter engulfed her and added to the screaming, screeching and sobbing. They collectively became a mob of comfort and grief. As the news spread throughout the Eritrean and Ethiopian refugee community, dozens of women started coming by to join this scene. And it was clear that the grief that engulfed them was not only M’s individual sorrow, but their common predicament. Most of the mothers living in the shelter are there alone, without husbands, so M’s situation is each and everyone of their worst fears coming true.
And the sorrow just grows. They grieve for her. They grieve for themselves. They grieve for all the injustices perpetuated against them in the past, but most of all I think many of them grieve for their future.
