Israel burnt Sha'ban al-Dalou alive. Palestine will rise from his ashes

If Sha'ban al-Dalou was Ukrainian, footage of him being burned alive while attached to an IV drip in a displacement camp would cause global outrage — it may even end the war. But because Sha'ban is Palestinian, such apocalyptic, shameful images are not only absent from Western media but actively covered up. 

If they won't memorialise him, I will. Sha'ban was a giant: he was a dreamer and a scholar, he was a software engineer extraordinaire and a linguaphile with dreams of studying in Germany. He even memorised the entire Quran. 

Gaza has tens of thousands of Sha'bans but I'd be lying if I said Sha'ban's murder didn't deeply affect me. He and I are a similar age with similar ambitions. We're both Hafiz e Quran with dreams of studying abroad and we're both unwitting witnesses to genocide.

But while I remain, Israel has reduced Sha'ban's body to ash.

This is the reality of life during Israel's genocide: none of us in Gaza know the fait that awaits us. Any moment now, I could be the next Sha'ban. And so could anyone and everyone left in Gaza. 

In the days leading up to his murder, Sha'ban pleaded to the world: please save us. Bear witness to the systematic slaughter of the Palestinian people. To no avail. Shortly after, Sha'ban was burnt alive in front of the world. He was innocent and unarmed. His only responsibility was to his family to help them escape the horrors of war to which they would soon succumb.

His desperate calls were met, as usual, with deaf ears. Here in Gaza, we know all too well that the world speaks up only when it's too late.

I know the world doesn't care about people like me: tens of thousands of men, women and children have been murdered by the US and Israeli killing machine. For over a year, the world has stayed silent. Days after his murder, BBC, CNN, Sky News, and others delayed even naming Sha'ban, let alone questioning his murderers. 

As I keep reminding everyone around me, this isn't Israel's war on Gaza, it's the worlds. And when the world's media and politicians do muster up the courage to speak, it's all too predictable. The playbook has already been written: vacant calls for a ceasefire that no one is working towards, an assertion that 'all lives matter' and that the blame for Israel's genocide is solely down to Hamas. Not the 76-year occupation, not the murderous Israeli regime, not the 17-year blockade of the world's largest 'open-air concentration camp', only Hamas. 

What kind of world are we living in where Israeli soldiers unload 335 rounds of ammunition at a 6-year-old girl and her family and no one is held accountable, let alone pay the price? What has happened to our humanity? 

The inconvenient truth about Sha'ban al-Dalou

As I continue to point out, I'm an accidental war correspondent. Before October 7, I had no desire to do what I'm now doing. Yet I've been thrust into reporting a genocide and covering tragic tales of immense suffering from which it will take a lifetime to recover. 

I've lost countless people, including my best friend Al-Hassan Mattar. We used to watch football games together. 

If I were Ukrainian or I was white, the media would rush to cover my story; they'd rush to cover Sha'ban's too. But as my neighbour told me recently, "Being Palestinian is a curse on earth."

Nevertheless, I will always and forever be proud of being a Palestinian. This genocide has proven one thing: even when facing death, we Palestinians have taught the world life. 

We've also found out that rather than being our allies, the world's media has revelled in our suffering and bent over backwards to portray us as villains, inhuman, and, of course, "terrorists". 

As my profile has widened, several Western news outlets, including The Times, have contacted me for comment. Not about my experience in a genocide, not about the scores of friends and loved ones that have been lost, but about Hamas. 

Can you imagine how disheartening that is, how offensive that is? Imagine asking a Ukrainian journalist if they were affiliated with the Azov Brigade or another, similarly militant outfit — it would be the end of their career! But here in Gaza, it's expected because myself, Sha'ban, and other citizen journalists must have an ulterior motive, there must be something suspicious about us, just because we're revealing Israel's crimes. 

No Western journalist has ever offered me a single word of support; they prefer instead to prey on our suffering. 

There's no turning back now. No apology will ever be enough. The West's credibility lies in ruins beside Sha'ban's charred remains.

Sha'ban's legacy will burn bright in the memory of every human left with a conscience, and his memory will usher in Palestine's liberation. He is an icon. Long after all the opportunistic journalists have faded into obscurity, and long after the US-led liberal order has been exposed as a farce, Sha'ban will remain a shining light of truth, justice, and liberation. And for me, I want to see Palestine free not only from the occupation but also from these complicit media outlets.

Abubaker Abed is a Palestinian journalist, writer, and translator from Deir al-Balah Refugee Camp in Gaza, interested in sports and languages

Follow him on Twitter/X: @AbubakerAbedW and Linkedin

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Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.