Phone Calls from Palestine

The Jabril family has come up with an amazingly personal way of raising money while saying thank you at the same time

Earlier this year, I received the biggest compliment of all – a beautiful portrait of me in a keffiyeh. It’s not something I commissioned or bought. It was a complete surprise.

“A portrait honouring your fearless activism and tireless support for Palestine,” the message read. “Journalist, humanitarian, cat lover and force of nature.

“Thank you for using your voice for justice.”

I was blown away and still am. This is possibly the nicest gesture I have ever received – and it came all the way from the Middle East.

The artwork is by the Jebril family. Father Majed and daughter Bana are the creative force behind the artwork.

Displaced to Egypt with the rest of the family – mum Basma and six-year-old Abdelrahman – Majed and Bana use their drawing talents to source income.

“We lost everything in the war,” says nine-year-old Bana. “We left Gaza and moved to Egypt and found ourselves without any income.

“So, my daddy and I decided to use our drawing talent to set up a family business.”

“My family is my whole world,” says dad Majed, who is 36. “In this war, I’m so afraid to lose one of them.

“I have a PhD in public health from one of the best universities in China and used to work as an assistant professor in Gaza.

“My wife, Basma, has a Masters Degree in architecture, but we lost our work and our cosy house.

“We spent all we have to protect our family during the war. We just need a chance to start a new life and rescue our family.

“My kids are suffering from depression, nightmares and anxiety.

“We will never forget the day we said goodbye to our house. We took some photos as we prepared to evacuate to the south.

“Heading through the safe passage, we each held a backpack my wife had packed for us. She also carried a few pieces of cloth, and important papers we might need.

“We walked for more than four hours, with tears running down our faces all the way to our destination.

“My son was crying that he was so tired and couldn’t walk anymore, but I couldn’t hold him because I had to raise both my hands – one of them holding my ID and in the other a white fabric to signify we were civilians.

“That’s just an example of one day out of the hundred something days we have been living in.

“We ran away from fear to another place that was just as dangerous as the last – and now we have been displaced once again.

“But I still have hope that we’ll survive.”

You can donate to the Jabril family via the button below. Every penny helps.

Alternatively, you can check out more of their artwork here.