In a small village in the West Bank, where life is simple and innocent, nine-year-old Muhammad al-Hallaq was brutally cut down by Israeli forces while playing with his friends. His mother, Alia, would have prepared him for another day like any other, packing extra slices of pizza to share with his pals, but today's excitement turned deadly.
The morning began like any other; Muhammad returned home from school with a new backpack, eager to use it in class the next day. As he walked out to watch birds, his curiosity about the world led him to play football – an activity meant for children to enjoy without a care. Alia, unaware of what was to come, received a phone call that would shatter her world.
"Muhammad was gone," she whispered in despair, echoing the words of her uncle Ahmad, who had called to inquire about any clashes with Israeli forces in their area. The sounds of gunfire pierced the evening air, and Alia rushed outside only to be told that her son Muhammad had been hit by a bullet. Her world crumbled as she was denied entry to the hospital's operating theater, where surgeons desperately tried to save his life.
The heart monitor's final beep sealed Muhammad's fate – he lay dead on the cold ground, victims of Israeli forces' lethal force. The UN Human Rights Office condemned the killing, stating that Muhammad was one of 1,001 Palestinians killed by Israeli forces or settlers in the West Bank since October 7, 2023, including 213 children.
Muhammad's family is now left to pick up the pieces – his father Bahjat wanders aimlessly around their home, touching his belongings as if searching for a ghost. His younger sister Mais remembers him fondly, recalling how he'd ask her to tutor him and how they'd share laughter-filled moments together. Sila, his six-year-old sister, refuses to return to school, unable to cope with the loss of her brother.
As the days go by, Muhammad's absence leaves a "huge void" in their lives – an emptiness that seems impossible to fill. His mother Alia holds onto memories of him wearing his white robe for Friday prayers and a small bottle of perfume beside his bed. Her words echo the pain she feels: "They killed his childhood."
The morning began like any other; Muhammad returned home from school with a new backpack, eager to use it in class the next day. As he walked out to watch birds, his curiosity about the world led him to play football – an activity meant for children to enjoy without a care. Alia, unaware of what was to come, received a phone call that would shatter her world.
"Muhammad was gone," she whispered in despair, echoing the words of her uncle Ahmad, who had called to inquire about any clashes with Israeli forces in their area. The sounds of gunfire pierced the evening air, and Alia rushed outside only to be told that her son Muhammad had been hit by a bullet. Her world crumbled as she was denied entry to the hospital's operating theater, where surgeons desperately tried to save his life.
The heart monitor's final beep sealed Muhammad's fate – he lay dead on the cold ground, victims of Israeli forces' lethal force. The UN Human Rights Office condemned the killing, stating that Muhammad was one of 1,001 Palestinians killed by Israeli forces or settlers in the West Bank since October 7, 2023, including 213 children.
Muhammad's family is now left to pick up the pieces – his father Bahjat wanders aimlessly around their home, touching his belongings as if searching for a ghost. His younger sister Mais remembers him fondly, recalling how he'd ask her to tutor him and how they'd share laughter-filled moments together. Sila, his six-year-old sister, refuses to return to school, unable to cope with the loss of her brother.
As the days go by, Muhammad's absence leaves a "huge void" in their lives – an emptiness that seems impossible to fill. His mother Alia holds onto memories of him wearing his white robe for Friday prayers and a small bottle of perfume beside his bed. Her words echo the pain she feels: "They killed his childhood."