Gaza is one of the principal cities of Palestine with four hundred and fifty thousand dwellers. This city’s situation is on the Gaza Strip, along Palestine. My father was great and muscular because he worked very hard for us, he was beautiful, he had green eyes and brown hair. He’s name was Abdallah, and he died sadly, he had cancer. He was born in 1965 in Gaza, this city is the city where he grew up. He married my mother in the year 1987. My mother was the most beautiful mother in this world, she had blue eyes, brown hair, a fine and beautiful body but she destroyed her life because of the daughter that she would have in the year 1997. It’s at that moment that everything changed for her. She had given everything for me, and maybe it’s that which changed my life. I think without her, I would have died or I would have been in a bad state. When I was a little girl, I didn’t have little baby toys, or baby dolls, I played with sand, slush, water, plastic bags, elastic and other usual things. I had one old very good friend, her name is Aïcha but when we were little girls, we played together every day. Yet, one day, men with helmets and weapons arrived in Gaza, no one could go out when they were there, at this moment my mother told me in a frightened  voice :

 « My princess, my love, my everything, my life, it’s almost at an end but if we do not resist, don’t cry, don’t be afraid and tell yourself that your mother loved you and she will always love you » .

She was crying, I was crying. Thankfully my father was there to comfort us in his arms. Every day, we saw hundreds of dead on the television, the soldiers killing everything they saw. It was disgusting, sad, ugly, pitiful and this scene destroyed my childhood. Since these days, my mind, my intelligence, my way of thinking, everything has changed. On 3rd July 2007, I'll never forget that date and that scene which ruined my life, the soldiers broke down the door of our house, and they raped my mother. After this horror scene, they killed my mother, my everything. How to be happy after that? My mother went to heaven and I hope she listens to me while she is in paradise. My father died because of cancer on 19th May 2004, but his death didn't hurt as much as my mother's. The soldiers killed my mother but they did not kill me because my mother had hidden me in a chest under her bed when she saw them coming. After this event, I was recovered by my aunt, her name is Roukiya, she lived in a quieter place not very far. When I think back, I was very lucky not to die. Henceforth, I will tell you my life without my parents, especially without my mother. I cried a lot of times, a lot of days. I started to write poems, novels to take my sorrow out of my heart, to forget these scenes, to be happy, smiling, and stop this horror in me. I write one poem in the year 2015, which is called « my mother, I love you ». In my aunt's town, all was calm, everything. My poem had a huge success in Asia but not only there, even in Europe. Yet, after this success, one day my telephone rang. Usually, nobody had called me since the death of my mother. It was an unknown number, I got. A lady with a fresh voice spoke to me and said : 

« Hello miss, we are an association of writers and we are recruiting young writers with talent for our association and we are interested in your capacity, your strength, your ability to pass on emotions. We invite you to join us in Paris, we will welcome you and will take you here ».

I was surprised but I accepted and two weeks late, I went to this city, Paris. I had never seen big cities and when I went to Paris, I was shocked by these tall and big buildings, by all these monuments, the Eiffel Tower whose existence and name I didn't even know, I finally discovered my second life in one of the most beautiful cities in this world. Thanks to that association, my situation, my job, everything started again. In all, until now I have written three poems and one novel, the novel talked about my life and besides they are always available, support me by buying them, it would be nice. You will have noticed, I am traumatized by this death, I talk about my mother everywhere I go, in everything I do. You know why? She said that she would always watch over me, that she would love me even in heaven. Even if she is not there, I live with her, I eat with her, I think like her, I act like she would act if she were alive, I do everything like her, my mother, that's my example. I talk a lot about my mother because I love her and I would do everything to see her once again but I see that in Paris the love towards the mother is not the same, there is much less respect. Finally, I'm going to tell you something that you have to remember all of your life, the love of a billion people is not worth that of a mother...