On Friday 29th September, I was praying in the El-Haram Al-Shareef, with my mother and brother, my mother and I went home after the prayer in the Old City of Jerusalem, there were problems happening already and we did not want to get hurt from the gas, at home neigbours knocked on the door and said that my brother got injured, he was there with the guys throwing stones and helping the guys who got shot.
Mousa my brother, decided to go home after he saw Afaneh (the first martyr) on his way back home when he saw soldiers hitting a young boy, 14-years-old, with the sticks that has iron underneath the wood. Mousa helped the guy and he was inside the soldiers' hands, as he knows self-defence which he was learning almost half of his life, he defended himself. The soldiers started to beat him from behind on his back and the back of his head since they could not reach him in the front. He defended himself as much as he could until he lost his consciousness after he a wicked knock on the back of his head. Our neigbours told us that he went to hospital.
So my mother and I went to Elmaqased hospital which, only one hour after the beginning of the problems, has already 200 injured persons, four of which were in the operation room. As my mother and I were staff in the hospital, all our colleagues helped us try to find my brother between the unnamed people. He was not there, he was not between the people who had not seroius injuries. Then one of the girls told us to go to the operation room. My mom collapsed when she heard this.
I went because I needed to know where my brother is. I wanted to see him. Just when I reached there, they took the second martyr out from the operation room. They did not know his name, so they took me with another woman to recognise him. He was her son and not my brother. I was relieved and sad for that lady who just went on the floor without saying a word, she passed out and when we woke her up she started screaming, calling for her son. He could not answer her for the first time in his life.
My brother was not in the hospital for sure now, but where? My dad, other brother, sister and mother and I went to check in the other hospitals. He was lying in one of them with seven stiches in his head, badly beaten and with a terrible headache. He was sad and angry about what he had seen that day. He said that he was still praying when he heard shooting and saw people going down. He did not know what he did that time but found himself throwing stones at the soldiers who were 'throwing' bullets back. Then he saw Affaneh -- God rest his spirit -- on the floor. Nobody could go to him to get him from between the bullets. Then he went and carried him with two other guys but there were nothing to do for him -- his head was open.
...[abridged]
Safa' Yassin