14 miles

I walked back from Central London after the march, tracked the first 22.5 km, which is the distance from Jerusalem to Beit Nuba, my village that was demolished and wiped off the map after 1967 war

14 miles..

 

 just 14 miles from Jerusalem, once stood My village Beit Nuba. Not only were homes and lives erased, but even the olive groves, why do they hate our olive trees, our history markers. 

Fourteen miles, or 22.5 kilometres – a distance measured not merely in steps, but in the immeasurable pain of 58 years of walking through dispossession, and diaspora. It is the vast distance between the ghostly outlines of a demolished village, and the fervent dreams of a brighter tomorrow.

This path stretches to eternity, a reflection of l years of occupation, of refugees, and the silent ruins of towns and villages holding untold stories. Each footfall echoes the steps of my people, Palestinian people. 

Yet, even here, on these clean London roads, my eyes strain to decipher a different narrative. To look beyond the headlines of loss and despair, finding instead the tenacious green shoots forcing their way through cracks in the pavement, a testament to a resilience that blossoms in each solitary, defiant flower.

 

Our hearts bear the crushing weight of what has been stolen: the profound anguish of thousands of martyred children, the ceaseless torment of daily bombardments, the indignity of queuing for water to quench thirst, food to stave off hunger, even a patch of earth for a decent grave. 

Oh Gaza, 

Oh Gaza, 

Oh Gaza.. 

And yet, still, we walk.

 

Unlike the ephemeral dust on a path, the fleeting scribbles on a wall, or the worn markings on a road, what we carry is enduring. We hold within us olive groves, the scent of wild thyme, sweet watermelons, the unwavering determination reflected in the eyes of those children who remain steadfast. Each worn path, even those now lost, is a history etched not in cold stone, but in the very soul of this soil beneath our feet.

And so, we continue on this road. 

Long, long road.

 

We walk, reciting these chants of hope, planting the seeds of freedom, and spreading the call for justice. We find solace in the shared strength of our resilience, a collective spirit that refuses to be extinguished. For even on this seemingly endless journey, each step taken in solidarity reminds us of the destination we strive towards:

A time when we will no longer read the chronicles of suffering, but instead turn the vibrant pages of a free Palestine.

Ahmad Baker

17.05.2025