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Fears of Unexploded Bombs Run High in Bethlehem
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The road where the boys were killed
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BETHLEHEM,
West Bank, May 5 (IslamOnline & News Agencies) - Nur moans, then
cries in his oversized hospital bed. The 14-year-old boy lost both his
legs and his right hand in an explosion last Wednesday, May 1.
"Is my father coming?," he asks, half-conscious. "I
want to see Abed and Nidal, I want my brothers," he pleads
ceaselessly.
But
Abed, 10, died when he and his brothers stepped on an explosive device
on their way to the market, a few minutes after the Israeli occupation
army's afternoon curfew had been lifted, Agence France-Presse (AFP)
reported.
As
for Nidal, 12, he spent two days in Hussein Hospital's intensive care
unit after schrapnel ripped into his chest and abdomen. He was also
badly burnt and his eyes were torn out by the blast.
He
died and was buried Friday morning, May 3.
Their
fate has sharpened fears that more children could fall victim to the
bombs, mines and other ordnance littering the West Bank as Israel's
military invasion enters its second month.
The
belief has taken hold in the Artas refugee camp on the outskirts of
Bethlehem that the Israeli army deliberately planted the explosives.
The
boys' family and neighbors say they saw an Israeli tank and a jeep at
the scene of the blast 30 minutes before the curfew was lifted,
following which the three brothers went out and stepped on the
explosive device.
"The
curfew is only lifted every three days, and there is no way
Palestinians could have accessed that road, which is continuously
patrolled by the army," says Iyad Sanat, who first reached the
boys with his brother Imjahed.
"This
is the main road to get to the market. Why would any Palestinian plant
an explosive there knowing that women, men and children take that road
as soon as the curfew is lifted?" said Imjahed.
The
two men say the explosive was hidden on the side of the street, which
is bordered by piles of wrecked cars, making it difficult for the boys
to see what they were stepping on.
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Khaled,
cries over the Palestinian flag-draped body of his son Nidal
Khaled Ismail, 12, during his funeral procession
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Hanan
Ismail, the boys' mother, swears she won't let her other four children
go out anymore. She then collapses in tears and asks that her boys be
given back to her.
"Why
didn't the Palestinian police check the street after the army
left?" she cries.
"There
are no more police, Hanan. The Palestinian Authority doesn't exist
anymore," answers one of the stream of women relatives and
friends who came to comfort her.
Abed,
who died instantly, was buried Wednesday in a rushed funeral
"because the curfew was to be over at 6:00 pm," explains the
boy's father, Khaled.
Nidal
was buried Friday. A hundred men followed the small body carried by
close family members on a hospital stretcher to the mosque, then on to
the cemetery.
"The
funeral wasn't worthy of a martyr, but we had it under curfew so not
many people except his relatives could come," says Abu Ali, a
cousin and the local school teacher.
Nidal's
body and face were still wrapped in the hospital's sheet. Relatives
said they refused to let his mother see his disfigured face and badly
burnt body, despite her pleas.
Back
at the Ismail's house, dozens of relatives and neighbors joined the
bereaved parents.
A
picture of Nidal in his best outfit was circulated around, as if to
erase his terrible appearance at the end.
Hanan
Ismail, crushed by the disappearance of two sons in the span of three
days, still does not know about Nur's predicament. Her husband tells
her that soldiers will catch her if she ventures outside her house.
"I
won't let her go to the hospital, she wouldn't stand it," he
says.
Meanwhile
at the hospital, Nur is still asking after his brothers.
Although
he has not been told, he seems to know that at least Abed did not make
it.
"He
talks in his sleep, saying his brother's dead and that his father will
scold him for not having protected Abed and Nidal since he was the
oldest there," says Wafa, a nurse taking care of the boy.
"Nur
will survive, he is stable now, albeit horribly mutilated," she
says.
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