Marhaba, Welcome to Siti's Stories
Nov. 25, 2025

Nida Abubaker: Carrying the Story Forward

Nida Abubaker: Carrying the Story Forward

In this episode of Siti’s Stories, I sit with Nida AbuBaker, daughter of Shukri AbuBaker, co-founder of the Holy Land Foundation.

Nida shares her journey of navigating life after her father’s wrongful conviction; as a daughter, a single mother, a writer, and an advocate for those who have been silenced.

Through faith, art, and poetry, she shows us what it means to turn pain into purpose, and to keep creating even when the world tries to quiet your light.

In this episode, you’ll hear:
• How Nida’s life changed after her father’s imprisonment and how she continues to carry his legacy with strength and grace
• The story of the Holy Land Foundation and its lasting impact on her family and community
• Reflections on identity, heritage, and the interconnected struggles of marginalized communities
• The emotional impact of the genocide in Gaza on political prisoners and their families
• How her father’s book, Light from Deep Under, became an act of resistance and remembrance
• The beauty of her parents’ love and what Palestinian love looks like in the face of separation
• Lessons in generational resilience, motherhood, and faith

🎥 Watch the full-length video on YouTube, one of only a few full length video episodes of the season.

💌 Subscribe to The Olive Press newsletter at sitisstories.com for exclusive reflections, recipes, and behind-the-scenes moments from each episode.

📖 Buy Light from Deep Under on Amazon

🔗Follow along with @freethehlf5 to learn more and keep updated on the Holy Land Foundation case

Connect with us: @sitis.stories | sitisstories.com
Connect with Nida: @livinlanidaloca

SPEAKER_00

There is a moment in some people's lives when innocence ends. Not by growing up, but by watching their family's kindness turn into suspicion. For Nidette Abu Bekir, that moment changed everything, setting her on a lifelong journey of turning grief into purpose and silence into voice. As the daughter of Shukri Abu Bekir, co-founder of the Holy Land Foundation, Nidette has carried her father's legacy of compassion into her own work. Through poetry, art, and advocacy for those who have been silenced. In this conversation, we talk about family, faith, resistance, and the enduring hope that light will always prevail. Welcome to Sity Stories. I'm your host, Leila, inviting you to pour a cup of tea and listen to the stories that remind us of who we are and where we come from. Denda, it's so nice to have you. And I think like genuinely really appreciate you coming into my home and for us to like have such a vulnerable and meaningful and important conversation today.

SPEAKER_02

Oh my goodness, thank you so much for having me. I'm so glad to finally be here after like two years of planning. It's finally happening. But yeah, better late than never. So thank you for inviting me to your home.

SPEAKER_00

So before we get into your story, um, I'd love to start with a Siddhi-inspired question. And I thought this one would be perfect for you since you're a poet and a writer. Is there a poem or aya or book that comes to mind when you think of your Sitti? That's actually such a wonderful question.

SPEAKER_02

So Siddhi, my mom's mom, my Palestinian grandmother. So she is a poet and a storyteller. Um, and every time I go to Florida to visit her, she's just like bars on bars, flowing poetry all the time. And there's not one poem that I can pinpoint because she says so many, and obviously I don't have them memorized, but just in general, any like old Palestinian poem always hits me so deeply because it reminds me of my grandmother. Um, but an aya that resonates with me is very verily with hardship comes ease. And in general, like with my whole family, we've gone through hardship after hardship after hardship from the very beginning. And my family is just like proof that there's always good that comes after anything we think is bad. As my dad would say, there is nothing really good or bad. It can be hard and easy, right? But something that's hard, it's not necessarily bad because there's always khid in something that you think is bad for you or like a bad time. There's always khid in it.

SPEAKER_00

Always a lesson as well. Sometimes we can't see it when we're going through it, but most of the times once we're out of it, we kind of can really look back and reflect.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, exactly. So when I think of my grandmothers, I think of everything that they've gone through and the light that they end up seeing after all of the darkness that they've endured. Thank you. Of course. Thank you for asking that. That's actually so beautiful and it made me think about it. It's not, it's not something that we think about often, you know. So yeah.

SPEAKER_00

I think that's an eye that a lot of people can like really resonate with. I think the reason why people were so excited to have you on is because yes, you do a remarkable job sharing your father's story, but I think everyone also really wants to hear your story as well. Where did you grow up? Where do you live now? Kind of just give us that background situation of everything in between.

SPEAKER_02

So, born and raised in Dallas, Texas, I'm a southern group. I just love the southern hospitality. It mirrors the Palestinian culture a lot, believe it or not. Falahe culture, especially. Something I've always mentioned and growing up in Texas, even the landscape and like the natural um like the plants and the trees that grow. Like we have a lot of subur cactus in some areas, and you know, you know, it's so perfect coming from Texas and then from Palestine, where we have the same subur cactus tree, and it's one of my favorites. Okay. Every time I see it, like I just get like this burst of happiness in my heart because I feel so connected to that plant, especially for the name. And then the fact that no matter how many times you can try to take that tree out or the bush out, it's going to keep growing. And if you look in Falasin, all of like the villages that were Mahjura, um, the abandoned villages, what's growing around them? The sabr, the cactus tree. And I think it's it's a good symbol of like my life. No matter how many times I was broken down, alhamdulillah, I keep growing. So I think that's why I'm really connected to that plant. That's so sweet. Which makes me just like so happy to be a Texas girl and a Palestinian girl. Um yeah, born and raised in Dallas, Texas, uh, still living there, and then I have family in New Orleans. You know, there's a huge falahi population.

SPEAKER_00

Wait, what ballad are you from? Silo, yeah. Yes. So you have a lot of family from New Orleans. Because I'm from Bedanen. Oh my gosh. Yes. And half of my ballad lives in New Orleans.

SPEAKER_02

I know some people. Oh my gosh.

SPEAKER_00

My ballad is split between New Jersey and New Orleans, and then I just came here because I got married.

SPEAKER_02

I think your cousins are friends with my cousins by going.

SPEAKER_00

Probably. Yeah, I know they are always with Tilauda. I know.

SPEAKER_02

Here's the thing about Palestinian. We will find each other no matter where we live, and then we end up knowing someone that knows someone who could also possibly possibly be one of our cousins, end up being cousins.

SPEAKER_00

Literally happened to me yesterday. I was at a Tithes event. I meet these girls from a Najep, and I'm not from a Jeep. And they're like, Oh, you're from New Jersey? Do you know so and so? And I'm like, Yeah, that's my cousin. They're like, No, that's my cousin. And like, it's like her from their dad, who's from a Jeep, and then my aunt who's from Betanan, we have mutual cousins. Like, I was like, How the heck are and we've never known each other. Like that was the first time we've ever met.

SPEAKER_02

So it's crazy, Yanni. It's such a small world, and you know, Palestine is this tiny, the world is so big, but when it comes to finding other Palestinians, the world gets even smaller. Yeah. That makes sense. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like we have hundreds of thousands of us in diaspora, but somehow we're still all connected, you know?

SPEAKER_00

And I think that's really beautiful. Oh, I think so too. So what are some of your joys? What are some of your hobbies?

SPEAKER_02

It's funny because I don't have time for my hobbies anymore. But growing up, I was always very artistic and creative. I would write poetry growing up in class. I never used to pay attention. In fact, I would be writing these little raps and doodling. So I've always been taking up different forms of art as a hobby. I love painting, I love drawing. Um and that's all thanks to my dad. I grew up watching him paint murals all over the HLF headquarters. He would even paint murals, um, the local Islamic school. So I learned just by watching him. So yeah, like if I have any free time, I'll try to start on a new painting or finish a painting I started two years ago. But I just I love channeling all of my energy into canvas. It's like my therapy. I'll put on some music and just let let that creative energy flow into a painting, you know? But that's one hobby that I absolutely love and I hope I can find the time or make the time to get back into. Because really, like you never realize how much you needed that art session until you're actually in it.

SPEAKER_00

Oh, I hope you like free up some time to like give that to yourself. Like we have to like be able to like fill our cup as well. And I'm sure you'll be able to create really powerful and beautiful art. I miss it.

SPEAKER_02

I miss it so much.

SPEAKER_00

Um, thank you so much for sharing a little bit about yourself. Like I said, you do an incredible job sharing your father's story, but I really wanted to kind of set the stage for a little bit about who you are as your own individual. I've listened to some other podcasts that you've done and and I've heard you speak in person. And I really wanted a way to kind of just humanize you and your story. It's sad that we even have to find ways to humanize ourselves, but I do think that we need that. So I didn't want to dismiss, though, your dad and the story that he has, and so much of who we are is intertwined with who our parents are, with who our grandparents are. That's literally the center and the anchor of this podcast itself. With that being said, your story is so deeply intertwined with your father's. For those who may not know your father, Shukriya Bubekir, can you share a little bit about the Holy Land Foundation and what inspired it to start and then what unfolded as well?

SPEAKER_02

So, long story short, the Holy Land Foundation was the largest Muslim-owned charity in the US. They had offices all over the world. They had an office in Sao Paulo, Brazil, where my father was born. They had an office in Jersey, they had offices in Palestine. The HLF was shut down in 2001 by the Bush administration. And then in 04, they raided our homes. And then in 07, there was a trial that ended in a mistrial and in 08. That's when my father was convicted and sentenced to 65 years in prison. And this is all for the humanitarian aid work that he did. And the crime was the fact that he helped Palestinian children and women. Now, what inspired my dad is actually the things that he went through. So my father got married in like 1980 in Sanford, Florida. They moved then to Chicago over here. So this is home away from home. And over here, my father's second-born child, Mohammed, he was born here and they were trying to put in a fading tube, and then the nurse accidentally punctured. It was either his heart or lungs. Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry for your loss. Yeah. Um, so my brother passed away here and he's buried here.

SPEAKER_00

So you have like an action to show you. Literally, there's like a gravitational pull.

SPEAKER_02

Wow. And I try to I try to make a visit to the cemetery when I can. I was actually the first family member to be able to locate his grave because his grave is unmarked. Um, and I was the first one to visit in like 20 years. So it was like a big moment for me because I wasn't born yet. But I'm connecting with literally my own DNA is right here. I felt like I was doing this for Baba. Um, after the book published, my father's poetry book, I sat there and I read a piece that my father dedicated to Muhammad, and I read it out loud. It was a beautiful feeling. It was basically like just connecting Baba and Muhammad after all these years. Like I was that center connection. But anyway, all that to say is so after my family, my mom and dad went through that at such a young age, they were like 22, 23. They moved to Indiana to start a new life. My mother couldn't bear living here anymore. In fact, she doesn't like visiting Chicago anymore because of that pain that she went through. So they went to Indiana right after, and Sanabel was born. Now, Senabil, like, mind you, this is just a year after Mohammed passed. Sanabel was born with cystic fibrosis and thalassemia. Even though her life was really hard and it was tough on my parents, she still brought so much light after all the darkness that they went through. So Sanabel was born and Baba was watching the news. It was around the time of the Intifada. And he's like, My daughter's getting the best health care that anyone can get, but she's no different than the kids in Philistine, right? This is the first Intifada, right? Yes. This is 1987. And he's like, you know, she's no different than the kids in Philistine. So that gave him the idea and inspiration. And then he moved to California right after. And he and Hassan and Ashi co-founded the HLF together. So basically, the inspiration behind the HLF was all of the pain that my father had endured losing a child and then having a child right after with these chronic illnesses. Yet she's still able to get good medical care. And he wanted to give other children a chance at life. So that's something a lot of people don't know because they know the HOF as this organization that was accused of sending money to these terrorist organizations that was their charge for material support. But there was no evidence of that. All the evidence shows that it went straight to the hospitals that they built. Yeah. The backpacks that they bought.

SPEAKER_00

Which nowadays, even giving aid to hospitals in Gaza would still give you this same bogus charge.

SPEAKER_02

Because, you know, humanitarian aid has been criminalized.

SPEAKER_00

Yes.

SPEAKER_02

And humanitarian aid to Palestinians is a crime because, you know, it doesn't fit their agenda, our oppressors' agenda. In order for their country to succeed, Palestinians need to be eliminated. And the only way that's going to happen is if they don't get the resources that they need. No hospitals, no schools, right? This is a war on children. They're killing our children. They're killing our mothers so that the next generation doesn't grow and rebuild Palestine. Any outside aid that's coming in, they're going to try to stop that. That's exactly why they are defunding the inner well right now, right? It's the same exact thing and it's ongoing. It's been going on for decades and decades. But right now, people see it as something new because we are actually able to see all this evidence from the palm of our hands. Back then in the 90s and the 2000s, we didn't have smartphones. For example, when they raided our homes, right? That was in 2004. I didn't have a smartphone. I was 10 years old. But I probably would have had like a smartphone or an iPad right now, today, right? If I was a 10-year-old with the FBI raiding my home. I would have pulled out something and started recording. They would not have gotten away with everything that they got away with back then. They assaulted my 19-year-old sister. She was left in bruises. They ran at us up into the living room. They threw my three-year-old sister. They picked her up from the crib and threw her out of us. My sister was not allowed to wear the hijab. It was a grown man three times her size who went into her bedroom. She's sleeping. Okay, it's like 5 a.m. in the morning. He went into her bedroom, dragged her out of bed, and would not let her wear her hijab. Would they have gotten away with it today? I don't know. Maybe not. Maybe they would have. I don't know, but at least we would have documented it.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

So I think a lot of things would have gone differently, but it happened. And there's a lot of things that we can learn and implement it into what's going on today.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah. We never know what domino effect that that had in your life. And so that actually brings me to my next question of your dad's imprisonment. How did that change your course for your life, your path of your life? You were 10 years old. It's kind of that pivotal age of like child, but then like we're starting at that teenage age. Can you walk us through how that kind of are you okay?

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, yeah. It's just, my gosh, why am I getting emotional? It's something that I have been thinking about more lately. When you're going through it all these years, you're living every single day, not thinking about what happened yesterday. You're just, you're going through it. Fire or flight mode. Exactly. And then I learned how to adapt my life with these sudden changes. And I just I keep going because literally my life has been one sudden change after another throughout my like all of the 31 years of my life. Okay. It's been one sudden change after another, and I just learn how to adapt. I'm like, okay, whatever. This happened. I need to learn how to just go with it. So that's who I am right now.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Um, you can put me under any situation, I'll figure it out. But so yeah, they raided my home at 10. And then Baba came back, and then in 07 and 08, it was two years of trial. I was for 13, 14 years old. All my friends were living like normal teenage lives, boy drama, like a shop at the mall after school, let's meet on the weekends. I didn't have that. After school, we go straight to the mechanical, we go straight downtown to the court. So I literally felt like I was going to law school at the age of 13 and 14. By the time I turned 15, I thought I could be a lawyer.

SPEAKER_00

You know, I I I did want to ask actually, like, did you ever consider taking that path?

SPEAKER_02

At 15, I was almost set that I wanted to be a lawyer.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

But I think as I got older, once I got to once I graduated high school, it kind of like felt triggering. I know what's right and wrong when it comes to the law, and everything is going wrong.

SPEAKER_00

You know that justice isn't always served. Exactly.

SPEAKER_02

And it's like, I want to be the one who who will help grant justice, but it's like, I already lived it and I want a life away from that. Even though right now at 31, it's like I can't imagine doing anything else other than fighting against this injustice. Whenever you're a teenager and then you graduate and go to college, it's you want to explore other things. Uh, you want to try to get away from the life that you have already been living. In high school, I kind of thought that I was gonna be like a designer. I really wanted to go to art school in the Bay in San Francisco. That was my dream. That was like my biggest dream. I thought I was gonna do it, but I remember the day of my interview for the school, something happened. I didn't end up going. I think it had something to do with my sister being in the hospital. But it was hid. There was a reason why I didn't do that. Because a year a year later, my sister passed away. So it was meant for me to be at home in Dallas. After I graduated high school, I had a gap here. I didn't go to school for that year. I wanted to work because also, like a thing about me is I don't want to rely on other people for money. I I started hustling at like the age of 17. I started my own photography business. I was doing like things here and there. Because I never wanted to burden my parents more than what they're already going through. Everyone always, they were always there to help me, but it's like like I just wanted to be independent, you know, that I wanted to go away for college. I really wanted that life away from not necessarily away from my family, but I wanted to know what life feels like when I'm doing things on my own.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

And subhanAllah, there was a reason for that because now I'm a single mother and I'm doing things on my own. And things were so tough, so tough when I got my divorce and I started to do things on my own. And I had, I wished that I learned how to do these things when I was younger. This life will come at you hard and you never know what's gonna happen, and you don't know who's gonna be there for you. So you do need to learn that independence and how to be independent. So going back, I wanted to be many things. I went through different phases, I never knew what I wanted to be because of this huge curveball that like life threw at me. So I never really was able to become my own person and do the things that I wanted to truly do. I became an activist by force, not by choice. This is what God has chosen for me. Right? This is what life threw at me, and I felt like it was my duty. One, because of everything that I learned at such a young age, it would be a shame for all that knowledge to go to waste. Yeah. Right. And two, because my father's in prison. He's serving a 65-year sentence in a horrible prison. And I'm not like, I'm not gonna go live my life selfishly. In my opinion, it's selfish to go live my life while he's sitting there. And I have the privilege and the voice and the energy to fight for him and for other political prisoners.

SPEAKER_00

I think God gives everyone their own skills and strengths that are different from each other. You have to harness that skill and that strength that God gave you and use it, or else you're doing yourself and everyone around you a disservice. Your skill and your strength is being this powerhouse of an activist, mashallah, and being a writer and being a poet to really convict people. And you're so compelling. I think that's a skill, and I'm like amazed watching you do it. Um, you kind of touched light upon other injustices that are happening. The injustices Palestinians face are not isolated. You know, we see it through the black community here in America, Muslim community post-9-11 and other marginalized, you know, uh communities right now, the Latino community with um ICE. So, how do you see these struggles as interconnected? And then also, how do you see our freedom as interconnected as well?

SPEAKER_02

It's cliche, but like we say all the time, and it's true, no one is free till we're all free, right? The same entity that is occupying us over there is occupying us over here. The extension of the occupation is over here and it's all connected. Our law enforcement agents are trained by the IOF soldiers in Palestine, right? So, what does that tell you? The US and Israel are working hand in hand, and their goal is to basically suppress these communities in order for their agenda to grow. And um, you know, all of our struggles are connected, especially like the prison struggle, right? Whenever I look at the prison. My father is in. It's one of the most violent and deadliest prisons in the US. And mind you, half of the men in there are serving sentences that they don't deserve. Why? Because they're all minorities. My father, a Palestinian, is serving 65 years.

SPEAKER_00

I'm sorry to cut you off, but I always heard that number. And it aside from the fact that he's wrongfully come convicted. Aside from that, that number, they don't even give murderers that number. No. Where was the logic of the 65 years? I'm sorry. That's such a curved blow question.

SPEAKER_02

No, it's fine. It's actually a great question. So the judge wanted to give them like a hundred something years, but he said it. I remember him saying this was him being like kind and generous, giving them only 65 years. That's wild. Now, they were five men. Three of them have already been released because they served their 20 to 25 year sentence. So if Baba was even given a 20-year sentence, he would have been released. He would have been released two years ago because they let them out like two to three years early. Yeah. You know, for parole. But yeah, like you made a good point. Even murders don't get that much. They get 20 years. They get 25. Had my father committed a real crime, he would have been out. And that brings me to the point I was going to mention earlier. One time we were visiting my dad, and there was a young black guy. He points at him, he's like, Oh, you see that kid, he's a really good kid. But there was a white guy who was tried for the same exact thing who had already been released. This guy got a sentence three times higher than the white guy. That is solely because of his skin color. So, what does this tell you? Our our communities are being bullied. They're being picked on for the color of our skin, for the religion that we believe in, and and God forbid, our English accents are a little heavier than the other guys.

SPEAKER_00

Genocide in Ghazza, how that has impacted your father, if it has. Because we're seeing right now Housing political prisoners in the West Bank are being treated way worse than they even usually are by the Israeli occupation. And so I was wondering if the clause have extended to your father here.

SPEAKER_02

Absolutely. It's impacted him in many ways. One, him himself. Like it's added so much heaviness to him because when he sees the news, he knows that if he had been out, he would still be helping them. And he told me the other day, he's like, you know, everything that's happening now is what the HLF tried to prevent, right? The forced starvation and the kids dying. That was everything the HLF had tried to prevent. Now, another way that this has impacted Boba is after October 7th, they have been nonstop bullying my dad. The prison has been raiding his cell. They've been taking his letters away, keeping them. Okay. Like my dad received a letter that was sent to him one year ago, just recently. They kept that letter for one year. They have been cutting visits, they've been removing people from his visitation and email lists. They took his Quran, his dictionary, because they know he writes. They took letters that Sanab alhamma had sent to my dad. And he would keep them with him. They took those letters. It's the only physical thing that he can touch that brings them close to San Abin. Because mind you, he was imprisoned for the last five years of her life, probably hugging her a few times in those last five years. A couple of those years, visits were behind glass. So he never really got to touch Sanabin. So even that they're taking away from him. Why? It's because they know everything else they've they've done to try to break him never worked. The only thing that they can't take away is his faith. And that is what they're trying to break right now by taking these little things. And they know that he gets his strength through these letters that we send. They know that he gets his strength through the support. They know that he copes through art and through writing, which is why they're taking away anything that will help with that. So it's strategic. These are not like isolated incidents. This is all strategic to try to break him. Mind you, it's not even the prison who wants to do this, it's the higher ups. They are getting these orders.

SPEAKER_00

It's also where are they getting their funding? Where they it goes up so much higher. Your father is the definition of steadfastness. Your father is the definition of samood. And it's so connected to Palestine. Look at the Palestinians right now in Palestine. They are steadfast. People can't believe that they have not been broken in these last two years. Yes. And so I'm not shocked. Like, but it would be really interesting for other people who maybe are not Palestinian or not Arab or not Muslim, my neighbor. If they heard this story, I would be so curious to know if they knew how connected all of these were.

SPEAKER_02

One thing that I always mention is like if Palestine was personified, it would be a political prisoner. And the story of the Holy Land Foundation is the story of Palestine essentially. So why do we say political prisoners are the compass of our struggle? It's because they are giving us the perfect example of what it means to keep fighting for our liberation after everything life throws out at us. They are sitting in a confined cell. People are being murdered all around them, but they are still fighting for the liberation, not only for themselves, but for everyone else. The prison where my father is at, he witnesses people getting murdered all the time. He is in his own war zone. But look at the art that he's producing. Look at the poetry that he's producing. Through all of that, he is still able to bring some light into our lives. One thing we mentioned earlier, we were talking about like the funding that the prison gets. The prison system is modern-day slavery. My father is only getting paid a couple cents an hour to clean up the blood of those inmates who are being murdered. A 66-year-old man wakes up at five or four o'clock in the morning. Anytime a fight breaks out, they will call him to go clean up the spilled blood. A man who used to help children get food and medicine, a man who used to wear suits every single day of his life, is now wearing those white paper suits and cleaning up blood. My father was against violence. And then he is here sitting in the most violent prisons. It's crazy how life works. It's crazy how the system works against us. The system doesn't work in our favor. It's not for us, it's not for the minorities of the US.

SPEAKER_00

I first off want to just say I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to your family, even aside from HLF with Sanabil, with your brother, Muhammad Allah Yarham. Just really want to acknowledge that as well as everything that's happened with the Holy Land Foundation and with your father. Your family's resilience and strength truly just embodies the Palestinians' resilience and the definition of what a Palestinian is throughout this like conversation that we've been having. It's this turning a bad situation into a form of light, into a form of something that can help somebody else. And you guys have really been able to create art even under these circumstances with the book Light from Deep Under. I would really love for you to share a little bit about how that came to. You know, your dad has always been a poet and a writer, and you've always as well.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, so Baba, as you mentioned, he's always been a writer. But after his imprisonment, he is confined in this little cell with nothing but a pen and paper. So he would just write, write, write, and he would send the writings through the prison email system to his friend based in Indiana, and she would post it on Baba's blog. Throughout the years, Baba has always had the idea to bring a book into life. So we compiled his poetry and he did write some poetry specifically for the book. He was working closely with an editor. Her name is Jean. She's amazing. Who, by the way, they took her off of my dad's email list specifically to try to like break this book from happening. They took her off the list. So he would have to communicate through Ahmed, who is a close family friend based in Houston. He tries his best to go visit my dad weekly. Now, mind you, the prison is always on lockdown. So like we can go weeks, even months without seeing my dad or having a visit. But since Ahmed is close, he goes there and he checks if there's a visit. Sometimes they won't even tell you until you get there. So so many times we'd have to wait weeks or months to even communicate with my dad. So this book, what could have taken just a few months, ended up taking two years because he would have to wait for Ahmed to visit, communicate through him. Then Ahmed communicates with the editor.

SPEAKER_00

Just making it so much more difficult. Exactly. That's the whole thing.

SPEAKER_02

Instead of Baba communicating straight with the editor, getting it done, no. Because even also emails take a few days to send. It's not instant. It's not like me and emailing you right now and you get it right now. It will take about like two, three days.

SPEAKER_00

Well, don't they have to like sift through what it is?

SPEAKER_02

It goes to DC, they read it, and they analyze it, they read in between the lines, and then they let it go through.

SPEAKER_00

My man is just trying to like make some bars like exactly.

SPEAKER_02

But this is this is on purpose. Yeah, they want to make life harder for everyone, not just the prisoner, to make life harder on the family too. It's collective punishment. Reminds me of Israel. Exactly.

SPEAKER_00

When you go back to Fallstine, even as an American citizen, and you have to go through the airport. I will never stop feeling traumatized from that experience.

SPEAKER_02

I was held for nine hours when I tried to go to Fallestine for my first my very first time was in 2016. They held me for nine hours. They do that so that you never want to visit again. Same with the prison. They do that so you never want to visit again, and so that they can break the spirits of these inmates, right?

SPEAKER_00

Within writing this book, this is a layered question. So, what does this book offer to you? What does it offer to your father? And what does it offer to the readers? What do you hope each one of those people carry and walk away with?

SPEAKER_02

I'll start with a Boba. Um, I think that it's important that his words are heard and read beyond those prison walls that were built to silence him. He has no communication with the outside world. Baba was a man of influence, which is why they put him in prison. He was huge in the community. All the youth would go to him with their problems. He would travel every single weekend to give lectures, to give classes, youth camps, the Friday chutbas, the Friday sermon prayers. Like he was doing all of that. And he was traveling all over the world, and he made such a great impact. And now he is in a prison to silence him. This book is a testament and a symbol of his resilience, and his words deserve to be heard beyond those prison walls. And I want him to know that we are here and listening to him. He won't be silenced. We're not gonna let them silence him.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah. I also see it as a way for him to reclaim his own narrative as a and reclaim his innocence. Yeah, you know?

SPEAKER_02

Yeah, yeah. Right? Like when you're in court, you're not speaking for yourself. You have lawyers to speak for you. My dad would have done things differently had he had been able to stand up and speak for himself. But you're not allowed to do that in court. It's always been someone else speaking for you, trying to defend you. This is Baba's words coming straight from him, speaking on everything he's ever done, every feeling he's ever felt. And it's giving you that roller coaster of emotions that he goes through during imprisonment. The happy times, the sad times, him remembering Senabel, him uh celebrating the birth of his grandson while not being able to hold him because he's thousands of miles away. You're gonna read all of that. What I hope like the audience or or the readers feel. I want them to feel the roller coaster of emotions. I think everyone should know what it feels like to be a political prisoner because now when we say no one is free till we're all free. None of us are free because they are currently imprisoned. My father being imprisoned is is imprisoning the whole community. After my father was imprisoned, it broke our community. They take one person in to break everyone else. It's also giving you a sense of hope. These are words coming from a prisoner who is so hopeful, who was so has such high spirits and has such a strong faith. And we will also gain strength from that, right? This man is in prison, he has the right to complain about everything, yet he does not complain one bit. And this book will give us strength by reading those words of encouragement, those words of motivation from someone who is who is in prison. And then to answer your question, me personally, it gives me strength. Me being able to show everyone these are the words from my father. Here you go. He calls me his voice. And that is literally my purpose in life right now. I visited my dad for the first time. I had a one-on-one session with him last year. I really got to just dig deep into everything. It was kind of like an outer body experience. He told me about the reason why I was even named Nida. I was born day after the Ibrahimi Mosque mass in uh my name was supposed to be Meriam, but he called me Nida based off of an emergency statement or article that he published called El Nida, which is basically the call to action or like the cry for help. He called me El Nida a call to action. I was born into the struggle. When he was imprisoned, I went straight to answer that call to action. And it's mind-blowing knowing that that gave me chill. It's like he like set me up to like prepare me what was to come. The moment I was born, he gave me like my calling. And my calling is to it is the answer to the call to action, right? It's it's mind blowing. So when I look at myself right now, you know, we talked about everything that I wanted to be and everything that like I didn't become in uh I didn't go to art school. I didn't do this, I didn't do that. Like I even wanted to be an art professor at one point. And I still maybe one day I'll go back and do that once everything calms down. But right now, my calling is to do this.

SPEAKER_00

You are firmly exactly where you are supposed to be right now. This is what I'm supposed to do.

SPEAKER_02

And I hate like always saying, I, I, I, this is my life. And I can't even believe that this is my life sometimes. I'm just a girl, you know? I'm just like, I really want to just sit on my couch, drink my coffee, watch a movie, but no, like I don't, I can't even do that. Like, I don't have time to do that. But like I can't imagine doing anything else. I just want to get this book out there. I I want people to know my father who for who he really is, not for what the media paints him to be.

SPEAKER_00

SubhanAllah, we become our names. And so it's crazy to me that your dad had that shift in his heart because of current events, which I also think that's just such a Palestinian thing. We are just constantly having to shift to the new trauma that we are like thrown at. So he shifted literally what your name is supposed to be because of things that are happening in Palestine. And then look at that gift that he gave you, that intuition that he had. So, Panel, I think you are exactly where you are meant to be. And the common thread and theme that we've been talking about has been strength and resilience. And when I think of all those things, I really think of the woman in our life. I think about your mom and your sisters and your grandmother. We get so much of who we are from our parents, but like our parents are our parents because of the fact that our cities and cities raise them to be these type of ways. And so I would love for you to share a little bit about your sitis.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. So I'll start with uh my dad's mom. She's also a child of diaspora. I mean, her family fled the war from Italy to Brazil. She's actually Italian, yeah, yeah, yeah. Born Catholic and born and raised in Brazil. Baba was also born and raised in Brazil till he was like seven years old. She ended up converting way after she had all her kids, but she lives in Dallas now. She lives with my uncle. She is such a funny and amazing person. I don't know how she still has such a sense of humor. I guess that's where Baba gets it from. You know, she has a beautiful sense of humor, even after everything that she's been through. You know, she didn't have an easy life either. It's like we forget that our grandparents have more than one child, more than just our parents. And every single child of hers has their own story, has their own struggles. As Palestinians, like we never, we never really have a true home, right? We are after the Nekbah, we went from one place to another, to another, to another. One of my uncles lived from like between Sudan, the Libnan, and Surya. Obviously, they had to leave Surya. Then they went to like Qatar, Turkey, so like everywhere. Siddi, after C D passed, she's always been living between like each son, just traveling from like country to country. She's in the US for the most part. She lived with us, her and C D, you know, growing up in our household, like Portuguese was always being spoken. My Portuguese is horrible right now. I can I growing up, CD and Sidi would all speak to each other in Portuguese. Mom and Baba speak to each other in Arabi. My sisters and I speak to each other in English. So I did grow up in a very like diverse household. And I think because of the way Baba grew up and because of who his mother is, it painted him into being the person that he is, you know, open-minded, loving everyone from who they are, regardless of race, culture, religion, you know, and he also traveled the world um and it opened his eyes to many different things. So yeah, Siti, her name is Zaira, Saira Guerzoni. But my father, his firstborn daughter, he named her Zuhaira. So he got her name and he had a befive um from Zaira to Zuhaira. And it's such a beautiful name. He very much put so much thought into each of our names. My younger sister, her name is Shiruk, 24 years old, and she was the last one to be born. She was born in January of 2001. The H12 shut down in Tuta in December 2001. She literally was like the Chiruk in my parents' life, you know, the sunrise, the light into my parents' life. Um, and Chiruk was so close to my grandma growing up, and she's probably better at Portuguese than me. So, you know, Sitti has touched so much and it has put so much influence in our life. Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

What traditions has she passed on to you?

SPEAKER_02

So we love to do like a family lunch every Sunday. A very Italian thing was like after church, they would go home and make pasta from scratch. My family, we want to implement at least gathering every Sunday. Yeah. And that brings me to talk about Siti Aesha, my mom's mom. Subhanallah, how the cultures are actually very similar. Every Sunday, she has to have Sunday breakfast. We try as much as we can to meet on Sundays when everyone is off and have a lunch or dinner, something. And I think that's a beautiful tradition from both sides. Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Cities were always really good at letting people together, especially around food. Food was a way to connect.

SPEAKER_02

But as a language itself, it's a universal language. No matter where you come from, I think we all have a very similar tradition to where we at least try to meet once a week as a family. Grandmothers are a the glue of the families. And it makes me so sad like to think like one day they're gonna pass away. And it's it's like if we don't keep those traditions alive, like we're gonna lose like the tour, right? We're gonna lose the culture and and the heart, the heart and soul of our country.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, yeah. So how do you pass that on to your son?

SPEAKER_02

That's a good question. I mean, I keep him close to my mom. I like to take him to visit my mom. His city. Yeah, his city. He loves to be in the kitchen with her. Again, food. Yeah. He loves this kid loves to cook. Okay. He's a five-year-old boy. Um breaking those stereotypes. Breaking the stereotypes. He loves to be in the kitchen with us. And it actually drives my mom crazy. He loves to just like be involved and do things with us. Both like the Italian and Palestinian culture, even Brazilian culture, we love to use our hands, right? Our culture is it's like a handmade culture. Everything we make, the tatriz is with our hands, the bread that we make is with our hands, the pasta that you make is with your hands. No, you know, there's nothing, there's no love like your grandmother's touch, right? And I'm so blessed that he's able to live around his grandmother and his great grandmother, my my Brazilian grandma is with us. That's so beautiful. He gets to have her in your life as well. He's only met my my Palestinian grandmother once, and I really want to take him again to visit her. She makes the best bread alive. Every Sunday, subhanAllah, even with all like the pain that she goes through, she would wake up four in the morning to make her bread.

SPEAKER_00

I swear, I used to tell my grandmother all the time, I'm like, Siti, I think you have more energy than I do. Like, I don't know how they just have like this like engine like in them.

SPEAKER_02

It's so funny. Like, one fun hilarious story with Sitti is we were visiting a few years ago, and my cousin and my sister, we all slept over at my grandma's house. This little house that they've built been living in since the 60s. She refuses to leave. That sounds very Palestinian. She refuses to leave, even though she can get like a veteran.

SPEAKER_00

I've been kicked out of my home one too many times.

SPEAKER_02

I'm staying here. So we all slept over at Siddhis because we had planned to wake up in the morning and make bread with her for the family gathering. She's speaking with the cha and she's like, y'all are gonna get up, saya. Um she was like lecturing us the night before. Yep, it's in it kumo like this early, and we're okay. We went to sleep. And then next thing you know, the next morning we wake up to the smell of bread. We wake up and we go and we see Sitti Tabana, and she's like, oh, and we're like, Sitti, you made all the bread without us. This is exactly why we slept over. Like, what happened? She's like, she's like, la khala. She was basically annoyed that we were sleeping. Four o'clock in the morning. She got up earlier than the time we had discussed.

SPEAKER_00

She probably just to tell you, look, you didn't get up to help me. I could do it all by myself.

SPEAKER_02

Four o'clock in the morning, yeah. Started making the bread when we had, I think, agreed to wake up at like six in the morning. So when we did wake up at six in the morning, everything was made.

SPEAKER_00

It sounds like a typical Siddhi.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. And she was mad at us. Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

Why didn't you wake up two hours ago?

SPEAKER_02

We're like, Siddi, but you got up earlier than us.

SPEAKER_00

But it's just, it's hilarious. Your Palestinian grandmother, when did she come to America?

SPEAKER_02

I think she came to America in the 70s.

SPEAKER_00

Um, she was also from Silwad.

SPEAKER_02

She's from Silwad. She's actually um so Siddi. Her mom is from Fakua. Oh, okay. Jin. Yeah. So she's half Jinan, half Silwad, which I love. I'm in love with Jin. Yeah, my husband's from Kadar Jin, right? Amazing. I think that's where she gets her like that strength, that grittiness. It's like a grit. I'm gonna do it no matter what kind of kind of strength. So she actually came to America a few years after CD came. He came here to work, and so my mom and my my older aunt stayed in Philistine, and they were raised by their grandparents.

SPEAKER_01

Wow.

SPEAKER_02

Okay, so CD left. Sidi stayed in Philistine until my mom was like six or seven. She left her two oldest daughters in Philistine to be raised by their grandparents and left to be with CD to help him. City was here in the US in Sanford, mowing lawns of Sanford, Florida to help CD. Wow. Okay. And he would be working in the flea markets. City would be mowing lawns. She's gonna end her thobs. Yeah, and like, you know, she wore her mandil to the back. Actually, till this day, she wears the the asbah and she lifts it to the back, and that's how she's been wearing it since day one. And that's why I wore this hijab to honor her.

SPEAKER_01

Yeah.

SPEAKER_02

Um, so she came here, started hustling with CD. That must have been so hard for your grandma and then also for your mom. It wasn't supposed to take that long. Yeah. It wasn't supposed to take long, but guess what? Mama didn't end up meeting her mom again until she was 21. She was raised 100% by her grandmother and came to the US to Sanford to marry my father at 21, and that was the the the next time she had seen her mother. Wow.

SPEAKER_00

Yes. Wow. That gave me goosebumps. I can't even imagine what that felt like six to twenty-one. You're talking about like 15 years.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah. It's insane.

SPEAKER_00

But it shapes your mom and your aunt.

SPEAKER_02

It's a blessing in disguise. Yeah, 100%. Mama and Khatir Hab are masters at tatrif. They are masters at baking bread. They are so amazing when it comes to maintaining the Palestinian identity and the culture.

SPEAKER_00

Even just being raised by your grandmother gives you such a different perspective on life, honestly. Yes. Being raised by somebody who's like that much older than you, they've had already walked through so much wisdom on their path. Whereas, like your mother, who's kind of that generation above you, they're kind of still going through it. They're still going through their life.

SPEAKER_02

You know, but had my mother not been raised by my grandmother in full of scene, she probably wouldn't have been as strong to endure everything. Like my mom lived under occupation until the age of 21. My mom would have to run away from the soldiers on her way to school. They would like to terrorize the kids, going to school.

SPEAKER_00

It fortunately and unfortunately prepared her for the life that she was gonna live with your father. So much of who we are can come to from like the woman in our lives, and whether that is like your grandmother or when you trace it back to your mom, it's how your mom raised you a certain way because she was raised by who and how did that person raise her? And to hear that she was raised from her grandmother, that just adds such a different layer onto everything. Do you find that you have their characteristic traits when you are working through something?

SPEAKER_02

It's so funny because when I'm with Siti Aesha, everyone says an aze Aesha. Oh wow. So they say, like, was done aesha, Nita, was done. Like I am, I fit them perfectly. But then when I'm with my Brazilian grandma, they say, hi, exactly. My Arabi sounds just like my grandmother's a good thing or a bad thing. Adibi is one of the funny things that it's like mixed with Portuguese. Like she's amazingly fluent at Adibi, by the way. Like so fluent. She just has like this tiny accent. Like, you know, when you say oh, she goes, and Arafi. Or like agua de mãe, you know?

SPEAKER_00

Oh so she mixes the two together.

SPEAKER_02

Very, very little though, but like you will hear it here and there. But it's just like her Adibi is so cute and like a little broken, but still very fluent. When I'm with her, my Arabhi becomes like hers. Oh, so cute. But when I'm with Sitti, I try to speak with the chlaiming your falahi. So Siti Zahira, she's just in her own la la land. And I think my sisters and my mom always say that I'm like her in that sense. Like I'm in my own world. But then my resilience comes from like Siti Aisha. That like steadfastness, the stubbornness, the I'm gonna get up at four, even though we told you 6 a.m. I'm gonna make the bread without everyone else's help. Also, my love for poetry comes from Siti. She would always be reciting Shahir to my dad. And I think that probably also shaped him too to be a poet. And one thing she always mentions is Shukri Awali Uahri. He is like the purpose of my life, but he's also gonna be the deafening. That's probably a characteristic that I got from her. The love for poetry and the Arabic language.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, but you know what? Also, the whole she could be so deep and profound, and then just kind of flip it and make so much light out of that situation. So, like her being like Shukri is my everything. I'm like, oh that's so sweet. And then he's gonna be my the death of me.

SPEAKER_02

It's just I love you, but you draw me. Yeah, you know, that's why like they have such an amazing bond because they both have that, like, just that sense of humor. And I think it's a very Palestinian thing to have a sense of humor.

SPEAKER_00

But that's like an amazingness. Yeah, that's like an amazing skill to have, like, honestly, no amount of therapy that you can go through can teach you that.

SPEAKER_02

I also I find it therapeutic to talk to other Palestinians, you know, like that in itself is therapy. So when my father talks to my grandma, when my father talks to my mom, it's therapeutic for them because they're able to share that like um that dark humor that no one else will understand.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, that trauma bond. Yeah, the trauma bond. There you go. Um what was your favorite meals of your cities?

SPEAKER_02

So siti zahira, my dad's mom, growing up, she'd make these caramelized plantains. My favorite, one of my favorite desserts. And um, Baba, his favorite thing was like termesou, um, and pasta, of course. You know, like we grew up eating like makluba, matzaf, pasta, plantains. It was a very mixed dinner table. A DNA, right? Like the Italian, Brazilian, Palestini.

SPEAKER_00

Um, your son is eating really good. That's what that is.

SPEAKER_02

He is. And Siti Aisha, my favorite, my favorite thing from her is not a meal, but her pickles. Siti is notorious for her pickles. Anytime anyone goes to visit, whether they're related or not, she makes sure that like at least half their suitcase is filled with ziploc bags of pickles. Yes, it's like she has the zahra, the cauliflower, the carrots, the cucumbers, and it all comes from my uncle's property in Florida. They look at, you know, it's very philistine. They go pick the cucumbers, and then she will pickle them. That's my favorite till this day. If anyone goes to visit Siddhart, they will bring her pickles and even her bread, like they will bring her bread too, and we will freeze it for as long as we can.

SPEAKER_00

It's such a labor of love. That's the essence of a Palestinian grandmother is showing love through these harder tasks, whether it's like them making a sob for you, whether it's them making food for you.

SPEAKER_02

And one thing Sidd is also really famous for. I feel like I have a southern grandma, her fried chicken. No way! Yes, I mean, she's been in the US for how many years? Her fried chicken, people all over Stanford like will go visit her just for her fried chicken and potato salad. It's it's funny how my Palestinian grandma, it's not even a Palestinian meal. It's her fried chicken, yeah, her pickles, and her bread. Like that's it's a very simple thing, and I love it, especially because I'm Southern and Palestinian.

unknown

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

So it's like a perfect it's just another way for you to connect with your grandmother. Yeah. Yeah. Thank you so much for sharing all about your grandmothers and the woman in your life. Being surrounded by just as strong of woman in your life can kind of carry you through any hardships that you might face. Where do you draw your strength from?

SPEAKER_02

From everyone. I get my strength from everyone for sure, and especially my father. You know, he says he gets his strength from us, and it I think it goes both ways. Um, the support that I get from my friends, just reading everyone's messages of encouragement, and it means the whole world to me because it knows that I'm not alone. And it shows me that the work that I'm doing is actually making an impact after feeling like for so long I haven't been heard. It almost felt like I was screaming into this void of darkness for so long. And now, alhamdulillah, like I'm seeing the light from deep under literally the name of my dad's book. But going back to my dad, I think just seeing how strong he is in those conditions forces me to be strong. Yeah. Right? Because as I mentioned earlier, I have nothing to complain about. I I actually do. I have the right to complain about everything in my life, but I don't because I have the privilege to be doing everything that I'm doing now, right? And it's my duty, and and that by itself gives me strength. Just knowing that I'm able to go out and speak for my dad. Just knowing I'm able to go out and march for the people who can't be marching. Just knowing I am able to write for the people who can't be writing, that gives me strength. Alhamdulillah. I don't know how I am maintaining that strength, but I am, and I'm grateful and I hope I can continue. But you know, like I can only be too strong for too long. Like there are days where I just feel mentally exhausted, especially with being a single parent. Like it's it's tough, it's heavy, and I do have to have at least a day to regroup and and kind of just like process. And I feel like throughout all these years, we mentioned earlier, I'm like just going, going, going, going. I never really processed anything. So the last like two years, I've been doing my best at like trying to take time to focus on myself and myself only. I think it might drive my family crazy a little bit because I tell them, you know, out of families, we don't have boundaries. Like I tell them, yo, guys, I'm sorry. Like I need this day for myself. I'm sorry. Like I can't. And you have to be able to make those boundaries with other people, even if it is your family for your own sanity. We really have to sometimes put ourselves and our needs first, at least for one day. One day, especially when you're giving your all to everyone else. And again, this isn't something that I was doing before. It's only something that I picked up the last two years after my divorce and learned that I really need to have at least one day of self-care, even if it's one day out of the month. I will try to devote that time to love myself to be able to love everyone else.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, with you wearing so many different hats. You are an activist, um, and then also throw in being a single mom, which is the hardest job of them all. How do you navigate burnout?

SPEAKER_02

Right, exactly. And um, yeah, it's everything I just mentioned. And I also learned through talking to other organizers and amazing, amazing activists, learning from them, like, yes, maybe I should also take a day to relax. And because I will ask them, like, how do you do it? And they tell you, you have to focus on yourself, you have to relax for a day or two because it's also heavy. It really is. And and being a single mom too, like it's a full-time job in itself. So the little moments that I find with just me, myself, and I, I'm going to make sure I at least lay in bed an extra hour if I can, or just sit in silence and and do nothing because you need that. You get caught up in everything to where when you have these moments with yourself, you ask yourself, who am I? Who did I become? I am not the same person that I was a year ago. I am not the same person that I was two years ago, ten years ago. I'm not the same person that I was yesterday. So we always have to give ourselves time to catch up with ourselves.

SPEAKER_00

You keep referencing two years ago.

SPEAKER_02

Yeah.

SPEAKER_00

What was the big shift that happened there?

SPEAKER_02

I think that's when my divorce was finalized. The last two years of my marriage, back and forth between my mom's and back home, my mom's and back to the home with my ex-husband, because I tried so hard. We tried so hard to make it work for the sake of our son, right? Because we realize it's better for our child to see us both happy and living separately, yeah. Rather than living together.

SPEAKER_00

I'm sure there's a lot of Arab or Muslim kids who are our age of our generation who wish their parents had that same mentality when they were growing up.

SPEAKER_02

I hear that a lot from my friends. Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah. My parents had a beautiful relationship and it actually gave me like the blueprint or like the idea of what a marriage should look like. But I will hear it a lot from my friends saying they wish their parents had split up earlier rather than them growing up with so much trauma and negative energy around them. It's sad to hear that, but when I hear that, it gives me realization. Like Baba tells me all the time, especially after my divorce, it was really hard on Baba. I had probably never seen him cry before. Is it because he couldn't be there for you? You told me that, like, I'm sorry. Yeah. I'm like, Baba, what are you sorry for? He goes, I I feel like I haven't been a good, I wasn't, I wasn't there for you. I feel like I haven't been a good father. And had I been out, none of this would have happened to you. And I'm like, Baba, don't say that. You've done more for me than the friends we were just talking about. You've done more for me than some of the dads who live with their own kids. Like it it amazes me at how amazing of a father he is behind bars, right? And how much energy he puts into maintaining our relationship, calling any time he gets, dedicating all these writings and poetry to his kids, the love he has for his wife. Oh my god, the love he has for my mom. Maybe that's why I'm having a hard time. Maybe that's why. Like, because I I see my parents' relationship, and it's like, that's what I want.

SPEAKER_00

But that's your standard, and you shouldn't like settle on your standards. People don't talk about that enough of Palestinian love. Us Palestinians.

SPEAKER_02

Our love is resistant, you know. Like my dad says, like, I'm gonna love my wife. I'm gonna show them when they put one in prison, they are imprisoning all of us, and they want that relationship to break. But my parents' relationship only got stronger after imprisonment. And he once recently told me on the phone, he's like, you know what? I don't know what I would have done if I don't have your if I didn't have your mother in my life. She is the one keeping him him sane. So it's it's beautiful, and I'm so happy and blessed that I have them as role models. We forget that love is a part of our culture, it is a part of our resilience, even in our music, right? When you listen like the tarwida, okay? Oh my gosh, every time I listen to it, I'm in tears because it hits me, and I imagine myself or my mother back in pre uh pre-occupation days. I take myself back in time. Had my father been in prison, I would be singing to him, or like reading poetry to him, to express my love to him, to to let him know that his freedom is coming. My mom, my mother would have been doing the same thing. And it's like bringing it back into modern times. My father's book is like the modern day teruida. There's so many um uh hidden messages. There's no hidden messages for you to decipher on your own. He wants it translated in Arabic and Portuguese, but he has to write in English because you are not allowed to speak any other language or write in any other language in this prison. You are not even allowed to write, write like a salam alaikum or anything like that in these letters. Everything has to be in English. But so, yeah, I implement everything from our culture into modern day, and I there's just so much beauty and resilience in the love for our family and our spouse and everything. We need to maintain that again, because it's just it is a part of our culture. Like we have to be strong for each other, we have to love each other. One of Baba's favorite sayings, aside from Sabr Jameen, is Hebbuba. That's Baba's favorite thing. Every time before we get off the phone, okay, yalla guys, hibbubah, behingzah, love each other. That is the number one thing as Palestinians that we need to do is love each other.

SPEAKER_00

Yeah, as Palestinians, as human beings, you know, you remind us that even in the darkest places, there's still light to be shown and had. And even with everything that you've gone through, you still remain so positive, mashallah. Um, where can everyone follow along with your journey and how can we support your work and your dad's work?

SPEAKER_02

So you can follow me on Instagram. It's like a visual uh I am on Instagram at live in Lanita Loca. Like live in La Vida Loca. It is a very crazy life, but live in Lanita Loca and then free the HLF5. We'll post updates here and there.

SPEAKER_00

My last question, we kind of always like to root us back to our cities. So if your city was here with us today, you could do both of them, one of them. If you know, drinking their shea or their coffee with us and kind of hanging out, what would they be most proud of?

SPEAKER_02

Their grandchildren. I think they would be proud of the generations that came after them, especially to see that we're still fighting for our own land. It makes them so proud because there's nothing more that they want than to go back home. I think that's what they'd be the most proud of.

SPEAKER_00

I'm sure they are of having you as a grandchild, having your siblings uh continue on their legacies, mashallah in such a beautiful way. I'm sure they're very proud of you. Um your resilience is not just personal, really, is a collective uh strength and power for us as Palestinians and as human beings. I usually end with that siti question, but I thought it would be really neat if you could send us off with a reading from Light from Deep Under. Yeah. Um, if there's an excerpt that you know you feel really speaks to you, or um there are so many.

SPEAKER_02

I think that. One that I will maybe read right now is called Forgiv Asking for Forgiveness. And this one I have, I've read it a couple times online, um, or like at events, because it is literally my favorite, especially as a single mother. It's like I want my child to be proud of me. I mentioned off camera, like my son is Khalili, Janini, so that resilience is in his blood, and I want him to know just who he is and where he came from. He's picking it up on his own too. Like it's not just me instilling it. I think it's also like just him being observant to everything going on. He knows very much who his grandfather is, he knows very much what Philistine is, why we're boycotting. I want to be the best version of myself for my son. Right. I do wish life had been easier for me so that I can give him an easier life, right? Which is why I can kind of resonate with my father when he wrote this. He dedicated it to me and my younger sister, Shiruk, because we were so young when everything happened. And he's asking us for forgiveness when there's nothing to for like nothing to forgive him for. He's done everything he can. I want to be half of the parent that he is, and my mother is. So he starts by saying, Forgive me, my child. You've bloomed far and fast, farther than I could touch, faster than I can run. Ran 5,840 days around the sun, but not one past the gate that kept you out and kept me in. Forgive me for every time your arms branched into the air, anxious, delicate, and my big hug never perched. For every time you looked out the window, your chin small on the couch ridge, and I didn't wave, my smile glowing in your hazel eyes. For every time you reminisced how we played hide and seek, the fun you wished my takers had played it fair. God, how sad. Forgive me, Habibi. It's been a drag, and rest on razor wire has stories t to tell, and the wrinkles in my hand and your bridge to womanhood. Suffering is not defeat, my child. That's my favorite line. And that's those are the words that I live by. Suffering is not defeat, my child. We won. God is great, you're strong, I'm strong. You let life spin and bloom far and fast, no regrets.

SPEAKER_00

That's so beautiful. And I could tell why it's your favorite. Even in everything that your father is going through, he still is thinking about others, and he's still thinking about you guys. As a parent yourself now, you now know what those shoes feel like of continuously feeling like you want to do best by yourself.

SPEAKER_02

And you're not doing enough, and and and you're not like good enough, and you know, and it's not it's not good to think like that. It's not good to think that you are not good enough. In fact, tell yourself you are doing amazing.

SPEAKER_00

Well, thank you so much for being here and for really opening up your heart and letting us in when I record with people, it's like usually not in person. And so I usually walk away with like such a heavy heart, not in a bad way, in just like an emotional way. I don't know how to explain it, but yeah, I know exactly what you're and I'm so glad that you're here that I can give you a hug afterwards. Thank you so much for being open and vulnerable and sharing your strength and your hope as well that you have. Heavy people appreciate your time.

SPEAKER_02

Everyone should know, like it literally took two years. No, it's a year. I'm exaggerating. But alhamdulillah, I was here and I'm like, hey, let's do it on Saturday. Thanks so much.

SPEAKER_01

Things are so thankful.

SPEAKER_00

Nidat's story shows us that everyone's freedom is interconnected and that even in the darkest times, hope can still rise. If her words moved you, take a moment to act, share this episode, learn more about the Holy Land Foundation case, buy her father's book, Light from Deep Under, and carry these stories into your own conversations. I've included How to Connect with Nidette, a link to buy Light from Deep Under and additional resources in the episode description below. To stay close to the stories we share, follow us on Instagram at cities.stories and subscribe to the Olive Press newsletter at citystories.com for more reflections, recipes, and behind the scene moments of each episode. This is City's Stories, where we honor the ones who came before us and carry their voices forward. Until next time, Ma Salem.