Testimonies

Hassan Yihya,

greengrocer

In September 1997, I got engaged to my cousin, 'Abir Mahmud Abu Nasreh. She was then seventeen and was living with her family in Amman . We were engaged for about a year, during which I went to visit her in Jordan to get to know her better, until we decided to marry. I submitted a request for a visitor's permit for her and her parents so they could enter the West Bank . They received the permits in August 1998. They stayed here for a month and we got married in September. We live in el-Bira. Her parents returned to Jordan .

Three months after we got married, 'Abir's visitor's permit expired. I did not renew the permit, and she became a "person staying illegally" in the area. About a year after we go married, I submitted a request for family unification on her behalf. I made the request to the Israeli Civil Administration via the Palestinian Ministry for Civil Affairs. The officials at the ministry told me it would take time for my request to be considered, and I knew there were thousands of such requests.

I made sure that she didn't leave Ramallah so that the soldiers would not arrest and deport her. I preferred that she stay inside the city, because if they deported her, she wouldn't be able to return. She couldn't visit her parents in Jordan , and they kept in touch only by telephone. When she spoke with them, I felt how much she suffered from not being able to see them. She was worried and sad all the time. Even if I wanted to pamper her, I couldn't take her on trips outside of town because she did not have a permit. She did not have relatives in the West Bank other than one uncle who lives in Bil'in. He came to visit her on special occasions and holidays. The visits made things easier for her and raised her spirits.

Our three children also gave her some consolation. Our eldest child, our daughter Alaa, was born on 10 June 1999. Our second child, Ribhi, a boy, was born on 22 January 2001, and our son 'Omer was born on 1 February 2004.

Every time I went to the ministry to check on the request, they told me there was still no answer or there was nothing new and that everything was awaiting decision by the Israelis.

When the second intifada began, the Israelis froze the handling of requests for family unification. We lived our lives in the normal manner, for better or worse, like everyone else. But recently the situation became intolerable. 'Abir was in a terrible emotional state. I would come home from work at the vegetable market and see her crying or brooding. She yearned to be with her parents and was tense all the time. About three months ago, I came home and she told me that she had packed her clothes and that if I wanted to go to Amman with her, I could come. About a month later, she went to Amman . She left on 6 June 2005, without notice. I was really angry. I realized that she was hurt and things were bad for her, but what did the children do? They remained with me. The smallest child is eighteen months old, still an infant. I spoke with her by phone and told her that I was angry over what she had done. She said that she wanted to see her parents and go to the wedding of her brother, who was the only boy among ten children. She cried and felt bad that she left the children. She said she was very sorry and that it was clear to her that she had almost no chance to return to the West Bank .

I checked again about the request for family unification at the ministry in Ramallah and they told me the same thing - that it depended on the political situation, and that family unification would be possible when the Jews allowed it. They said that I also didn't have any chance in obtaining a permit for her to enter the West Bank for a visit.

Now I live alone with the children. I didn't even know how to prepare bread or milk for the infant. I didn't know how to change diapers or to do other things one has to do when taking care of infants. My wife did everything. I had to take the children to my mother to live, even though she is sixty years old and has arthritis in her legs. She can barely take care of herself, but we have no choice. I went to live with my parents to be with the children. My life changed completely. In the past, I would come home from work, shower, and eat with my wife and children. Then I would play with them, or we would go out to do something and have fun in all kinds of places. I got into a routine of "from home to work and from work to home." I am frustrated and depressed. When I return home at night, the children are sleeping, and when I get up in the morning, I barely see them. When I look at the children, I feel sad, especially when one of the children wakes up at night and asks for his mother.

Also, I don't have a wife to share my problems with, or who can help me. When I talk with 'Abir by telephone, she begins to cry. She regrets that she left and wants me to do everything I can to enable her to see our children. Her sister told me that she holes up in the house and cries when she sees small children. I don't have the words to describe how bad the situation is. I also worry about my mother's condition, and what would happen if she were unable to continue to take care of the children. What would I do in that case? Stop work and take care of them? And how would I support them?

Hassan Ribhi Hassan Yihya, 39, married and father of three is a greengrocer and a resident of al-Birah, Rmallah district. His testimony was given to Iyad Haddad in al-Birah on 2 August 2005.