Return to the Garden

Introduction Ramallah, West Bank, late 2020’s Fourteen-year-old Aashif is walking the two miles to the water distribution station in Ramallah. Drought is ravaging the Middle East and it is his responsibility to carry the two containers each morning and get the daily ration of fresh water for the family. Aashif is too young to fight and too old to be cared for like a child, but he feels a responsibility to do all he can to help his family. As he walks along, he is joined by other men and women, all diligently intent on getting their share of the precious water to make it through the day. The street is crowded and the sun is blazing even this early in the morning. Many of the shops have been closed for months and the atmosphere is one of quiet desperation. He thinks of his sister Saabiya and her new baby. Timing couldn’t have been worse. Although there is enough fresh water at the hospital, medical care is expensive and only the wealthy can afford it. Saabiya, like other women in her neighborhood, had her baby at home under the watchful care of the local midwife and her mother. Their father died years ago in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, leaving Aashif as the only man in the little family. Things had been getting progressively more hopeless in the last few years. Although the technology exists to make fresh water using desalination plants, the West Bank and Gaza areas still rely on the rains and surface water. Wells are dried up. The Jordan River is now just a trickle and there is not enough water to drink, let alone for farming, sanitation and washing. Several months ago, in an effort to reduce cholera, the Water Authority converted all the mains to filtered salt water from the Dead Sea. It was acceptable for sewage and sanitation, even showers and personal hygiene, but not for gardening or farming. With each passing month, the water ration per family had been reduced until there was barely enough to drink. Some desperate souls had taken to drinking the salt water, they were so terribly thirsty. They died shortly after, since the urge to satisfy thirst is one of the strongest in life. Desperation led to violence and the daily demonstrations and riots had been getting much more intense in recent weeks. Aashif is very worried about his sister and her new baby. He overheard her telling their mother that she did not feel her breasts were full and that the child fussed when nursing. His little mouth was dry and the urine was a deep brown color indicating dehydration. She has no way of knowing if the child is ok, and the yellowish tinge of the child’s skin fills her with dread. No one in the family is healthy. Saabiya herself is getting cramps, has dark urine and is often confused during the day. She has had hallucinations and has more and more skip beats of her heart. She is terrified that if anything happens to her, there will be no one to take care of the baby. TTheir mother is worried too and despite Aashif’s daily trips across town to carry the water home, she feels they are not getting their fair share. What she doesn’t know is that the water line is not a safe place to be. Once people’s lives are threatened, violence quickly follows. The lack of sufficient protein in Aashif’s diet resulted in stunted growth and full-grown men would often roughly cut in line, making the usual two hour wait even longer. The air at this hour of the day is stifling and Aashif sometimes feels that by the time he gets the water, he has lost almost as much from sweat just standing in line. The terrible feeling of thirst haunts him always. The Palestinian Authority posts armed guards around the distribution centers, but Aashif suspects they are often bribed to look the other way. More than once he was accosted and beat up as he left the distribution center, losing the precious, life-giving water to the thieves. Now, he keeps a bottle of mace in his pocket and is not afraid to use it. Aashif daydreamed as he walked along, hoping to see a young girl named Bariah who comes to the water station around the same time each day. The Water Authority established rationing sectors and there were times assigned for each sector to keep the crowds under control. Bariah lived just a few blocks away and is about Aashif’s own age. She always has a shy smile for Aashif, and her family is struggling like everyone else. Bariah confided in Aashif that she drank only a small cup of the daily ration, saving it for her mother who was very ill from cholera. The few minutes that they walk together are like a holiday for them. Aashif prayed to Allah that one day the rains would return and he might find work, make a life for the two of them, and live happily.