Nablus \/ Wurud Yassin: as usual I began to tidy my papers and prepare the tools and papers I needed for the workshops. But what I did not know was the nature of the stories I would bring back to that small office which carries within the folds of its papers the stories and accounts of women suffering violence and oppression from that other sex of humanity. What was strange this time was the story of that woman who throughout the meeting was extremely sharp in her dealings with me and with the rest of the women, trying hard to deny the term violence and saying that inside her home there are no such cases and that her children enjoy a wonderful family, and she tried by every means to paint her family in the most beautiful colours. But only minutes remained before I would finish my meeting with this group, when she tried to draw close to me and said to me in a low voice: do not pay attention while I am speaking, so as not to draw the rest of the group's attention to me. So I said to her, without turning to her: why? Her face was pale and turning very dark, with signs of sadness drawn across it. She said: I have decided to open my heart to you. Everyone knows that I am happy with my husband, but what they do not know is how wretched I am in my life, and they do not know the sorrow I carry because of my marriage when I was young, not yet 15 years old. Nor do they know the decision I have taken, which is that I will tell him when he returns from his work in Israel either to divorce me or I will kill myself. Signs of astonishment appeared on my face, and it was as though a disaster had fallen before me, and it truly is a disaster.
\nI said to her: why do you speak like this when a little while ago you said you were happy and that your home is among the most beautiful of homes?
\nShe said: my husband abandoned me four years ago and he currently works in Israel and does not come home except every three weeks, and when he comes back the catastrophe happens and he begins comparing me with the foreign women he sees in Israel and says to me: you are not human and you are not a woman, and he sets about beating me, so much so that all this has been reflected on the children at home. I can no longer bear this disgusting life and my decision is final. And this case is like many of the cases I bring back every day to my small office, which can no longer hold the stories that concern women and their worries, which accompany me like my shadow.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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