My Final Exam: A Personal Story

 

My Final Exam!

 

On the fifth day, my father whispered in my ears, “Stay asleep.” So, on that morning, I slept in. When I woke up, I did the same physics problems all over again.

On the sixth day, at six o'clock in the morning, I heard the door squeak open again, and my father whispered, “Stay asleep.” So I slept in again that morning, and I did the same problems later that day.

On the seventh day, the exact replica of the days before.

No one left home for work, school, or anything, not during the day or at night. We barely had any food to cook. We had canned food, and my mom had to bake the bread. Using the backyard garden, we exchanged some missing food items with the neighbors.

On the eighth day, despair sneaked in, and anger was pounding in my chest. I didn’t study on that day. The backyard gardens were the only place anyone could hang around in the neighborhood. And so I did on that day.

On the ninth day, it was different. The house searches were near. The soldiers reached the neighboring street, and I could hear the jeeps coming close. I heard Hebrew sounds, banging doors, and shouting. Later that afternoon, the soldiers reached our house. The gardens were swarming with soldiers, and I heard the cry to open our door. My mother opened the door, shivering.

The soldiers rounded up all men and teenage boys in an open yard in the neighborhood, dragging my father and older brother with the rest of the men.

I was put in a room with my mother, and a soldier closed the door and stayed outside the whole time.

Another soldier asked my younger brother to accompany him as my brother opened every closet and drawer in the house. I didn’t know whom to worry about: my younger brother, who feared soldiers the most, my father and older brother, or my mother, who was still shivering.

Time becomes nonexistent in these moments. A minute feels like a year. I felt a stain in my heart, and my mind clogged.

Somehow, the day ended. We were all shaken and tired. Everyone was released.

 On the tenth day, my father still whispered, “Stay asleep”. I think I studied a bit on that day.

On the first day, when we heard the news of a Jewish settler killed near Ramallah, we knew some retaliation would come our way. But who could tell what it would look like? We stocked up on food and essentials.

I didn’t know what would happen on the second day, but I woke up early and heard the speakers. I wasn’t surprised. I studied well that day. At first, I thought it was nice to have an extra day to study. It was the final exam in high school, and I was going to graduate from high school.

On the third day, I hoped

 the curfew might be lifted.

On the fourth day, I was still hopeful.

On this day, my father decided that since he already wakes up at 5 for the morning prayers, he would stay up and listen to the loudspeaker. I was glad I didn’t have to wake up early.

The enforcement of the curfew was announced once in the morning, at around 6, by one soldier using a loudspeaker. The timing, the accent, the voice intonation, and the words muffled by the echo of the speaker all conspired against us; it was a cacophony of sounds. If the curfew was lifted on a specific day, I had to be ready to leave for the exam at 7.

Typically, during curfews, I would read, do some chores, and

Ramallah, under curfew

later in the day, the girls sneaking through the backyard gardens would gather in a neighbor’s house. But this time, I had this final exam.

On the eleventh day, the people grew restless.

On the twelfth day, the curfew was lifted abruptly, it wasn’t clear on the speakers, or maybe we didn’t believe our ears. I wasn’t sure what to do. I got ready just in case and listened to the early news to make sure.

I finally did the exam.

Feeling the sun on my face, I was happy to walk in the streets again, but there was a different temperament in the streets than what it should have been; instead of relief, there was chaos. Anxious, worried parents were talking to each other. They didn’t know where their sons went. They left to do the exam but never made it to their schools. I lingered around for some time to understand what had happened.

We knew later, from some boys who were released, that they were held in the military administration compound the whole morning. [1]

So a new exam needed to be written. The calamity continued for a few more days for these boys and a lifetime for all of us.

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[1] There were no cell phones at the time.