My Birthday Wish
By: E. Yaghi

    When I was a kid, my birthday was second best to Christmas. Though it was not as elaborate, it was a day set aside special just for me. I can still remember when Dad bought me a green bicycle on my 13th birthday. I am not sure why I never had a bike of my own previously, but better late than never. It really was nothing spectacular but to me at that time, it was the most beautiful bike I had ever seen. It glistened and shone.  A huge red ribbon wrapped itself over the frame and I could smell the newness of my present.

    In Montana, March is not usually the season for bike riding, but I was so eager to try out my gift that I jumped on it that very day and rode off into the wonderland of moving vehicles. Over the snow I sped, on to some unknown destination. I felt certain I was the envy of all the neighborhood kids, but looking back, I am sure not many were staring out of their windows envying my being out in -14 degree weather on a new bike.

    Things are different now. I try not to look forward to my birthday and I try not to expect my husband and kids to remember it. I no longer drop hints the day before and I keep silent the day of the supposed celebration not wishing to be overbearing on a day that should be just like any other day.

    My birthday falls a few days after International Womens Day. I never gave it much thought until this year. This year was different for me. Everything changed in ways I did not want them to. And yet, though I tried to pretend my birthday really didnt matter anymore and that there were other much more important things to think about, when my husband and two sons rushed off to their own places of interest, I felt alone and abandoned. Everyone was having fun this day I thought, everyone but me. No one would remember my birthday at all this year and I had done nothing to remind anyone.

    I felt that this was a day where I should not have to cook and a day where I should be treated to dinner in some fancy restaurant with crystal glasses, finely dressed people, the aroma of classical food and soft music in the background. Surely with all the children I brought into the world, I had done enough cooking and washing dishes to last 10 life times.

    Then I remembered a lady by the name of Abeer Abu Khdeir. She is 32 years old and lives in Shuafat in the West Bank. She is a mother of four. Her childrens ages range from 2 to 12. On February 21, 2001, Members of the Israeli Army, police and undercover agents stormed into the Abu Khdeir house and for 6 hours violently humiliated Abeer, her husband Nassar, her children and all other families living in the same building.  Abeer and her husband were then arrested and their four children were left behind crying and bewildered.

    Since the day of her detention, Abeer has not been allowed to see her lawyer nor has her husband and neither has been allowed to see family members.  On March 4, her incommunicado detention was extended for 8 more days. This order may be prolonged at the whim of the IDF. Both Abeer and her husband have been detained without a warrant for undisclosed reasons. She is now being held in the interrogation section of the Russian Compound in Moscobiyeh. It is feared that she is subjected to further ill treatment and torture.

    I am sure that International Womens Day came and went unnoticed by Abeer. International Womens Day concentrates on the rights of women and protecting them from physical abuse and violence. Though there have been advances in womens rights around the world, the incarceration of innocent females like Abeer is a retreat from any kind of progress. Abeer is not a criminal. She is not a thief. She is not a murderer. She is the mother of four young children and she should not be held in detention without due process of law.

    On this day, my insignificant birthday, I kept thinking of Abeer and how horrible she must have felt being forced by the IDF to leave her children screaming behind her. I kept thinking how she might be tortured and abused for no reason at all, except for the fact that she is Palestinian. Since the Intifada al-Aqsa began, more than 1500 Palestinians have been imprisoned under conditions similar to those of Abeer.

    Later on this evening, my sons did surprise me with a beautiful card and a delicious cake. We all gathered round and everyone sang, Happy Birthday. I was delighted that my children and my husband remembered my birthday. Yet, the vision of Abeer being held in prison without a reason and brutally tortured, haunts me.

    If I were granted just one birthday wish, it would be to see Abeer and other women like her set free.

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