Afrasianet - Lana Shaheen - Your story, Nasser, will not be written with defeat. You, the prudent, the intellectual, armed with faith in the justice of Palestine, carry the cause of your people on your shoulders, you will triumph over every brute force, to prove that freedom, even if delayed, is not preyed upon by the tentacles of occupation.
To travel with Nasser Al-Lahham means that you are flying with a rainbow in the sky of serenity. He is a man who only resembles himself; he sits among people, and in a few moments he becomes the focus of everyone's attention, and when he speaks, you listen to him passionately, as if you are listening to the tale of the Thousand and One Nights in a tone that is both warm and rebellious.
He speaks with a heart-wrenching fluidity, turning any fleeting talk into clouds that rain joy and bloom happily. He recounts the painful reality, but wraps it in humor, and spreads irresistible warmth around him. Even in the darkest moments, he lights a candle of optimism to remind us that man needs a glimmer of light to move forward.
This is Nasser; charisma bows before him and is only worthy of Nasser, making him unforgettable.
We have never met in Palestine because of the occupation checkpoints. We never set foot in the same dust, nor did we hear together the echo of the call to prayer or the bells of churches. He was in the ancient alleys of Bethlehem, and I was in the arms of Gaza. Fate willed us to meet outside the homeland.
In 2014, Al-Mayadeen TV decided to send us to Cuba. The trip came after a bloody 51-day war on the Gaza Strip, which left me with a broken body and a tired soul. It was not only Cuba that healed me from that exhaustion, but also Nasser al-Lahham.
On the plane to Havana, he looked like a child discovering the world for the first time. Looking away, he told me:
"The sky here is the same as it was above Dheisheh camp, but the clouds here look more joyful."
I smiled and said to him:
"You see, which is more beautiful: Palestine or Cuba?".
We arrived in Havana after a long journey, as if it were a passage from time to time. In its colorful streets, we saw the features of Palestine: simple people smiling despite oppression, loud music that gives the scene a special elegance, and silent walls that speak the unsaid, and raise pictures of revolutionaries instead of advertisements.
Nasser walked through the street as if he were one of them, exchanging greetings in broken Spanish, distributing smiles in every direction, and stopping to buy a cigar from an old stall. We arrived at a large square, with a picture of Che Guevara hanging on the wall.
The square was silent except for the Caribbean breeze and the cooing of a pigeon fluttering around us. Nasser stared at Chi's picture, took his cigar out of his pocket, lit it slowly, and puffed thick smoke that mixed with the smell of sea and salt, then shouted:
"Che looks like us, my friend, he doesn't know how to back down or give up. As he said, if you fight, you can be free, and if you don't fight, you lose."
We sat on the edge of the sidewalk, the sun falling asleep on the shoulder of the horizon, and he kept talking about Palestine, the struggle and beauty, about the camp he lives in the solution and travel, and he cries: "On this land is what is worth living." He added:
"I learned from Che that every revolution begins with a dream, and it's not just on the frontlines. He pointed to his chest: "Love is the first revolution, even here the revolutionaries knew that without love they were broken and defeated."
Then he turned to me and added:
"These revolutionaries lived through poverty, hunger and exile. However, their hearts continued to beat for love and freedom. It makes no difference."
In the evening, we sat in a small café overlooking the sea, salsa music filling the place. People dance with light spirits with gentle winds free, crossing distances lightly and longingly, swaying with melodies as if there is no siege and they are not in the world.
Nasser lit another cigar, his eyes following the dancers. He whispered with half a smile:
"We don't know how to dance like them... The camps taught us to just run."
On the last day, we went to the beach. We sat on the sand watching the sun dye the sea with its beautiful colors.
He spoke with his eyes watching the horizon:
"The sea is like our Palestinian cause: as wide as a dream that extends in our chests, sad like the mothers of martyrs, deep with its secrets that only those who dive into it know and do not reveal them. He carries our pain and hope together, as if his water is mixed with our blood, telling the world our endless grievances."
He wrote with his palm on the sand: Palestine. Overwhelmed by the wave, he smiled sadly and said:
"Even if the waves erase it a thousand times, it is engraved in hearts."
In the company of Nasser Al-Lahham, I realized that the stories of the homeland are not told only by words, but by the tear that hides behind the laughter, and by the footsteps that spell the letters of the old alleys.
Nasser Al-Lahham, a veteran journalist, believes that journalism is a battle of dignity, not just a profession. He loved to uncover the crimes of the occupation, and to present the truth in the most eloquent and truest way. In the custom of the occupation, the word is more dangerous and deadly than the bullet, so he was arrested as a desperate attempt to silence him within the policies of muzzling voices and raising awareness.
Nasser al-Lahham told the occupation cells and explored their torments more than once, but as usual, he returns from behind the bars of the jailer stronger, like someone who comes out of the darkness carrying in his hand a rose that does not wither, and a solid will that does not know breaking.
Nasser, do you remember the day we stood together on the doorsteps of Ernest Hemingway's house in Cuba? How long did we talk about the novel "The Sheikh and the Sea", in which he portrayed the unfortunate end of that simple and naïve Cuban fisherman in front of the shark, who symbolized the greedy American man, armed with money and power.
But I am sure that your story, Nasser, will not be written with defeat. You, the wise, the intellectual, armed with faith in the justice of Palestine, carry the cause of your people on your shoulders, you will triumph over every brute force, to prove that freedom, even if delayed, is not preyed upon by the claws of occupation.
Abu Marcel is a brave journalist. You taught us - my friend - that justice and truth are stronger than injustice and falsehood, and that a person who loves his homeland is the last to be broken, and that after the most severe storms the rainbow appears if there is faith in victory in the conscience and in the throat a voice that does not compromise or compromise.
With great coals, we await you, O rainbow of free media.