From the heights, we can overlook it resting indolently, bestowing itself to our eyes: set out in a landscape like a precious jewel in its box. Naplus could be an idyllic place to live in.

One can not stop gazing at it. One can not stop asking oneself, why Israel brutalises it this way. Its army illegally occupies Napluses’ highest parts, it can then control the whole area and even further.

It gives you the shiver : we do not see them and we know they are here, watching us. How many of them are there? No one knows.

There are hundreds of Israeli military bases in Palestine stuffed with soldiers who only wish to express their hatred with weapons and they are always close to the colonies which keep growing in number. Their canons are now targeting Naplus, even when it sleeps, ready to hit it, rape it, make it bleed .

"What can we do!" .It’s awful. Natives are here, trapped, voiceless, hanging on to the idea that justice will be done one day.

The occupying army‘s only purpose is to spread death.

Walking in the street, opening up one’s shop in the morning means defying the soldiers. To live, to breathe means resisting. Naplus resists in silence ; a heavy silence.

We look at each other, we watch each other, we never know who is trust worthy, who is not everyone is suspicious of everyone else. Another uncertainty that adds up to many other.

Israelis have a hold of people by all sorts of means ; corrupting them, perverting them.

There are young men here, so handsome ,who hold on to their dignity by selling all kind of things in the streets. They stand in hell, threatened to be shot at any moment in time. Only because they are young. But they are determined to face up to the Israelis.

There are the ones called ‘the fighters’; they look like the others, they have studied in universities and there is no way they can get a decent job. Full of dexterity, they are exactly like ‘our’ youngsters back home. They are tall, very tall. They are handsome, very handsome. Women too are so beautiful.

They wear jeans, their hair is gelled, cut short. They support the Hamas, Jihad, FPLP, etc…Parties that refuse any compromise with the occupant, any negotiation before it gets back behind the 1967’s borders.

And their dream of freedom, leads them to be on the very long ‘wanted’ list of Israel’s criminals. And now, they can track them like livestock. From one place to another, we feel that we are repeating ourselves by telling the same stories. But the stories tragically repeat themselves from villages to towns.

The hundreds of houses that were smashed open and looted in 2002 remain in the same state. Those which are still standing seem empty; nobody peeking at the window, no one on the balconies. Windows are covered up with wooden boards; we can not see through. People barricade themselves any way they can to avoid the Israelis’ gun shots.

As soon as the sun sets, streets get empty. We do not even hear the sound of a voice, not a child’s cry, although houses are large in number and numerous members of one family live inside. The lack of noise, of life is striking. What becomes of all the youngsters at night, trapped down in their home? Weary in this death camp. Young people from whom childhood has been stolen, whose youth is today being slaughtered.

It’s impossible to sleep one whole night straight. Night time starts with the infernal sound of tanks, jeeps and every other vehicle packed with soldiers. They invade pathways; patrol ; shoot at houses ;ransack. I spent my first night in anguish : trying to guess where the engines , the shooting came from. I was bewildered not to hear the sound of even one voice. It’s weird: fear mutes people; but not the animals. When the infernal machines come near, animals are strangely enough, humanised. When during the day, we can not hear or see chickens, donkeys, cats, at night they scream and cry : they tell us that something terrible is going to knock on our door. This noisy complicity brings to the scary night, a certain kind of humanity that soldiers ,blinded by their will to annihilate can not perceive.

At 2 am, I was taken out of my sleep. I heard planes flying in circles over our heads, tanks driven driving around houses. I was so near to them but not scared.

We must stay, live with them this terrible experience, we have to know of this persecution Israelis inflict on them, we have to yell until the media tell the truth, until governments denounce to protect them, and force Israel to leave.

It’s all very clear ; all these murders are carried out in order to disorganise the resistance, to paralyse it, to kill it.

The Israeli military strategy is killing the only wealth the Palestinians have :their children. A key strategy founded on shocking, asphyxiating , eradicating.

But how can the Palestinian fight back ?Mothers are terrorised that someone comes and takes their children away, fathers are scared for the life of every member of the family, young already traumatised are afraid of being shot at.

Hitting them, killing them, mutilating them, breaking their bones, demoralising them stealing the few shekels left, jailing them :all this is routine for the Israeli soldier: he grew up hating the Arabs. It’s as if they were enjoying humiliating and killing the Arabs. So, the soldier is surprised when an embarrassing ISM witness tells him that he is violating international laws. He just did his job, followed orders. A few weeks ago, they were ordered to shoot in the head of the international pacifists, not above. In this extreme situation, it is not an easy task to try and help the Palestinians. We need to thousands more; the day they will have thrown out the volunteers come here giving out their own money and sometimes their own life, there won’t be any evidence of their daily violations based on racism and hatred.

The sun rises in Naplus, the same way that the night has gone: in despair. People get out nicely, get to their work .the mood is peculiar. At 9 am, patatra ! We hear canons. We will learn later on that the army came back to the heart of the historical town, already half destroyed: people were killed, others injured. When we arrive in Balata camp , we learn that a child exploded himself in Israel, and we start trembling for what is going to fall on the population again, soon.

I’m impressed by the patience of Naplus’ s proud inhabitants. They look as if nothing could touch them any more, they go on with their life, as if it was normal.

There is no hatred towards the Jews or even the Israeli people. There are a few European and American Israelite among the members. Palestinians only hate the soldiers that put them down, that treat them like animals, that brutalise them harshly; that’s all.

We did not say it enough ; in no other country man has been treated this way, or children have been killed this way. Why Israel