Crescent International
“I am Yahya, the son of a refugee who turned exile into a temporary homeland and transformed a dream into an eternal battle.
As I write these words, I recall every moment of my life—from my childhood in the alleys to the long years in prison, to every drop of blood spilled on this land.
I was born in the Khan Yunis refugee camp in 1962, at a time when Palestine was a torn memory and a forgotten map on politicians’ tables.
I am a man whose life was woven between fire and ashes.
I realized early on that life under occupation is nothing but a permanent prison.
From my earliest days, I knew that life here is not ordinary and that whoever is born here must carry an unbreakable will, knowing that the road to freedom is long.
My will to you starts from that child who threw the first stone at the occupier, who knew that stones are the first words we speak in the face of a world that remains silent to our wounds.
I learned in Gaza’s streets that a person is not measured by the years of their life, but by what they give to their homeland.
So, my life was prisons, battles, pain, and hope.
I entered prison for the first time in 1988 and was sentenced to life, but I never knew fear. In those dark cells, I saw in every wall a window to a distant horizon, and in every bar, a light illuminating the path to freedom.
In prison, I learned that patience is not just a virtue, but a weapon—a bitter weapon, like drinking the sea, drop by drop.
My will to you: do not fear prison, for it is part of our long journey to freedom. Freedom is not just a stolen right, but a concept born from pain and shaped by patience.
When I was released in the Wafa al-Ahrar prisoner exchange deal in 2011, I did not emerge the same.
I emerged stronger, with a greater belief that our struggle is not a passing phase but our destiny, one we carry until the last drop of our blood,
My will is for you to remain steadfast, clinging to your dignity and to the dream that never dies.
The enemy wants us to abandon resistance, to turn our cause into endless negotiations, but I say to you, do not negotiate over what is rightfully yours.
They fear your steadfastness more than your weapons.
Resistance is not just a weapon we carry, but it is our love for Palestine in every breath we take. It is our will to remain firm despite the siege and aggression.
My will is for you to remain loyal to the blood of the martyrs. They paved the road to freedom with their blood, so do not waste those sacrifices in political calculations or diplomatic games.
We are here to continue what the first generation began, and we will not stray from this path, no matter the cost. Gaza was and will remain the capital of steadfastness, the heart of Palestine that does not stop beating, even if the world closes in around us.
When I took over the leadership of Hamas and Gaza in 2017 it was not just a transfer of power, but a continuation of the resistance that began with stones and continued with the rifles,
Every day, I felt the pain of my people under the siege, and I knew that every step we take toward freedom comes at a price, but I tell you, the cost of surrender is much greater.
So, hold on to the land as firmly as roots cling to the soil, for no wind can uproot a people who have chosen to live.
In the Al-Aqsa Flood battle, I was not the leader of a group or movement, but the voice of every Palestinian dreaming of liberation. I was driven by my belief that resistance is not just an option but a duty.
I wanted this battle to be a new chapter in the book of the Palestinian struggle, where the factions unite and everyone stands in the same trench against an enemy that never distinguishes between a child and an elder or between stone and a tree.
The Al-Aqsa Flood was a battle of spirits, before it was a battle of bodies and of will, before it was a battle of weapons.
What I leave behind is not a personal legacy, but a collective one for every Palestinian who dreamed of freedom, for every mother who carried her son as a martyr on her shoulder, for every father who wept bitterly for his daughter who was killed by a treacherous bullet.
My final will is that you always remember that resistance is not in vain, nor is it just a bullet fired but a life lived with honor and dignity.
Prison and siege have taught me that the battle is long and the road is hard, but I also learned that people who refuse to surrender create miracles with their own hands.
Do not expect the world to be fair to you, for I have lived and witnessed how the world remains silent in the face of our pain.
Do not wait for fairness, but be the fairness. Carry the dream of Palestine in your heart and make every wound a weapon and every tear a source of hope.
This is my will. Do not lay down your weapons. Do not throw away stones. Do not forget your martyrs, and do not compromise on a dream that is rightfully yours.
We are here to stay in our land, in our hearts, and in the future of our children.
I entrust you with Palestine, the land I loved until death and the dream I carried on my shoulders like a mountain that never bends.
If I fall, do not fall with me, but carry the banner that never falls and make my blood a bridge for a generation that rises from our ashes stronger.
Do not forget that the homeland is not just a story to be told, but a reality to be lived. And with every martyr born from this land, 1000 more resistance fighters are born.
If the flood returns, and I am not among you, know that I was the first drop in the waves of freedom, and I lived to see you continue the journey.
Be a thorn in their throat, a flood that knows no retreat and do not rest until the world acknowledges that we are the rightful owners and that we are not just numbers in the news.”
Yahya al-SinwarGazaGaza KillingsGaza resistanceIsraeli war crimesIslamic Resistance
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