"Each year, my family looks forward to the olive harvest season in Gaza. Over 30 olive trees stand on our land. My father can recognize each one by heart. We have never seen them as mere trees of soil and branches; to us, they are kin and beyond. The harvest is a sacred ritual for us-one that allows no compromises, no excuses for missing it. Preparations, punctuated with enthusiasm and anticipation, used to begin months before the season arrived."
"For over 25 years, we never missed a single harvest, working day and night to collect and clear the olives. But then the genocide broke out, in the same month we usually embark on the harvest. That year, we crouched in corners, waiting and anticipating the next bomb to fall. I vividly recall how gut-wrenching it was to watch the trees left unpicked, not able to reach them, nor to salvage the crops."
The family cares for over 30 olive trees on their land in Gaza, with the father recognizing each tree as kin. The annual olive harvest functions as a sacred ritual and the family’s primary yearly reunion, requiring months of preparation. The trees serve as living testimony to attempts to uproot the family and their insistence on remaining in their homeland. The father planted the trees decades ago with his parents, and olive oil is treated as a universal remedy. After more than 25 uninterrupted years of harvests, bombardment and genocide forced abandonment of the harvest and left fruit scattered and uncollected. In October 2024 the family decided to risk returning to harvest despite the dangers.
Read at The Nation
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