After the war on Gaza in 2021 came to an end, the city was left
scarred—its streets broken, its buildings bearing silent witness
to the pain, and its people struggling to find hope amid the
ashes. As I moved through the devastated streets during my
coverage of the war, I listened to stories of resilience and saw
firsthand what no camera could fully capture. When the dust
began to settle, I felt an obligation to give something back to
this beautiful city that refuses to be defeated.
This sense of duty gave birth to my artistic project, “My Right Is
My Weapon… I Will Resist.” I chose a building that had been
targeted during the war and later restored, as the canvas for
this mural. The building, once shrouded in the dust of
destruction, now stands as a symbol of hope and resistance.
I used Arabic calligraphy not just as a visual element but as a
language that speaks directly to the soul. The phrase “My Right
Is My Weapon… I Will Resist” was a deliberate choice—more than
a slogan, it’s a message to anyone who sees it: the Palestinian
holds onto their right as firmly as they hold onto their roots. The
colors in the mural were not merely decorative; they symbolized
the journey from pain to resilience, from bloodshed to the hope
that rises from the rubble.
This artwork wasn’t just an attempt to wipe away the physical
remnants of war from the city’s surface but also an effort to
clear the despair that lingered in its hearts. I wanted the people
of Gaza—and anyone beyond its borders—to see that art can
confront the aftermath of war and that, just as walls resist
collapse, the Palestinian spirit resists surrender.
Every time I look at this mural, I see more than just a piece of art.
It is a testament to a city fighting to live and to a people proving
that their right, no matter how besieged, remains their truest
weapon.
