Remembering Refaat Alareer: Gaza’s storyteller whose words turned pain into power

By Press TV Staff Writer

On this day two years ago, Refaat Alareer, a beloved Palestinian English poet and professor from Gaza, was killed in a devastating Israeli airstrike that destroyed his family home.

The tragic attack also claimed the lives of his brother Salah, Salah’s son, his sister Asmaa, and Asmaa’s three children – amid the Israeli-American genocidal war on the territory.

In his book Light Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, Alareer questioned the value placed on Palestinian lives, asking, “Does a single Palestinian life matter? Does it?”

He emphasized that Gaza should not only capture global attention when mass bloodshed occurs, describing the besieged territory as “the epitome of the Palestinian Nakba, suffocating and being butchered before our very eyes, often broadcast live on TV or social media.”

Yet, despite the horrors, he held onto hope, repeating, “It shall pass. Sometimes I mean it.”

Widely respected and deeply loved both inside and outside Palestine, Alareer wished for his story and his death to be remembered and shared with the world and future generations.

He penned the poignant poem “If I Must Die” for his five-year-old daughter Shaimaa during the Israeli assault on Gaza in 2008–2009.

Tragically, on April 26, Shaimaa, along with her husband and their five-month-old infant, was killed when another Israeli airstrike struck their home in western Gaza City.

If I must die

If I must die

you must live

to tell my story

to sell my things

to buy a piece of cloth

and some strings,

(make it white with a long tail)

so that a child, somewhere in Gaza

while looking heaven in the eye

awaiting his dad who left in a blaze —

and bid no one farewell

not even to his flesh

not even to himself —

sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up

above

and thinks for a moment an angel is there

bringing back love

If I must die

let it bring hope

let it be a tale

Since Alareer’s life was cut short, his power-packed poem has been translated into over 40 languages and recited around the world, becoming a powerful anthem of hope and resistance amid the ongoing atrocities committed by Israel in Gaza.

Passionate voice of Palestine

Palestine is more than just a place. It is a story that demands to be told. At 44, Alareer was a passionate voice for his people, tirelessly sharing the painful truths of their lives with the global community.

In his own words, “As Gaza keeps gasping for life, we struggle for it to pass. We have no choice but to fight back and tell her stories. For Palestine.”

Growing up surrounded by stories of dispossession and injustice, Alareer felt a deep responsibility to ensure these narratives were never silenced. He believed remaining silent would be “selfish and treacherous.”

“If I allowed a story to stop,” he wrote, “I would be betraying my legacy, my mother, my grandmother, and my homeland. To me, storytelling is an essential part of Palestinian sumud — steadfastness.”

For Palestinians, stories are more than just tales; they are lifelines that nurture resilience even when the heroes suffer or fall. Alareer understood this deeply, recognizing storytelling as a vital act of survival.

He was also a co-founder of We Are Not Numbers (WANN), a nonprofit organization born in Gaza after Israel’s 2014 military offensive. For Alareer, WANN was a form of resistance against the cold reduction of Palestinian lives to mere statistics. He believed that those lost under Israeli attacks deserved to be remembered, their stories preserved and shared.

“Telling stories was my form of resistance,” he reflected. “It was all I could do. After the 2008-9 Gaza attacks, I resolved that if I survived, I would dedicate my life to amplifying Palestinian voices, empowering narratives, and nurturing young storytellers,” he revealed in Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire.

Alareer’s dedication to telling Palestine’s story was well known among his students and colleagues, who supported him in realizing this mission.

Jehad Abusalim, executive director of the Palestine Center, recounts how Alareer transformed a familiar phrase into a profound question. While Gazans often reassured one another by saying, “This shall pass,” Alareer, witnessing the despair around him, posed it as a question to the world: When will this suffering end?

Bernadette Andrea, a professor of literary and cultural studies at the University of California, highlights Alareer’s commitment to nurturing the voices of Palestinian youth through his edited anthologies Gaza Writes Back and Gaza Unsilenced. These works aimed to preserve collective memory by bringing young writers’ stories to light.

As a professor of world and comparative literature at the Islamic University of Gaza, Alareer also taught creative writing. For him, teaching English was more than language instruction; it was a form of defiance against the occupation’s constraints.

According to Abusalim, who studied under him, Alareer viewed English as a tool to break intellectual, cultural, and physical barriers imposed on Palestinians.

His classes were famously engaging and innovative. “Literature raises more questions than answers,” he would say. “I won’t give you the answers; you have to find them yourself.”

Alia Kassab, a former student who wrote about her experience for Al-Jazeera, remembers how his lively two-hour lectures felt like minutes, capturing students’ full attention.

Alareer was more than a professor behind a podium; he was approachable and warm with every student. “He shared everything he knew about literature, writing, and translation,” Kassab recalls, painting a picture of a mentor who inspired and empowered those around him.

Through his words, his teaching, and his unwavering commitment to storytelling, Alareer left a legacy that continues to inspire resilience and resistance in the face of unimaginable hardship.

The resilient professor

Despite enduring tremendous personal loss, including the death of his brother Mohammad in 2014 when their family home was destroyed by Israeli forces, Alareer never let grief extinguish his resolve.

He remained steadfast on the path he had set for himself, channeling his pain into his work and activism.

In a deeply personal tribute, Alareer dedicated his PhD dissertation, “Unframing John Donne’s Transgressive Poetics in Light of Bakhtin’s Dialogic Theories,” to his late brother Mohammad.

Alareer’s literary contributions were significant: he co-edited Gaza Unsilenced and edited Gaza Writes Back: Short Stories from Young Writers in Gaza, Palestine. He was also one of the voices behind Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire.

Just two days before his untimely death, he wrote a powerful and emotional homage to Palestinian resistance amid relentless Israeli attacks.

“More horrific Israeli bombardments… We could die this dawn. I wish I were a freedom fighter so I could die fighting back those invading Israeli genocidal maniacs invading my neighborhood and my city,” he stated.

In a poignant interview shortly before his life was cruelly taken, Alareer revealed the intensity of his determination to resist.

“I am an academic. The toughest thing I have at home is an expo marker. But if Israeli soldiers invade, break into our homes, and come to massacre us, I will use that marker to throw at them, even if it’s the last thing I do,” he wrote

Gaza-based poet Mosab Abu Toha paid a moving tribute to his dear friend, reflecting on the uncertainty surrounding Alareer’s final moments.

“I don’t know how Refaat died, whether he was reading a John Donne poem or editing his own. I don’t know what became of his body after the bombing, whether his glasses were shattered, or if his gentle fingers were clutching a pen or a flower he once asked the world to send to Gaza.”

Press TV’s website can also be accessed at the following alternate addresses:

www.presstv.ir

www.presstv.co.uk