Nakba Day 2026
Let’s hear from our partners and friends at the Wi’am Center in Palestine. Like the sirens in Ramallah, they call on us to remember that the Nakba is still happening. This series of testimonies is based on conversations and exchanges in preparation for today’s remembrance.
The first one is from Tarek Al-Zoughbi- member of WI’am.
Al-Nakba, the great catastrophe, is often used to reference 1948 and the displacement and ethnic cleansing that Palestinians faced when Israel was violently created, and then later on recognized by the UN and international community. But, the catastrophe, as every Palestinian knows, has never ended. It is ongoing. It is ongoing through the years of dispossession and displacement, through the ‘wars’ and violence enacted upon us, through the expanding settlement movements and escalating violence, through the extractivist and eco-terrorism practiced by settlers and the occupation, and is now culminated in the genocide in Gaza, and the sharply increasing violence in the West Bank.
When Israel was recognized in 1948 it was contingent upon the future creation of a Palestinian state. But, this contingency was never fulfilled, leaving one nation, Palestine, scrambling for recognition, while another nation, Israel, has full recognition and is even given impunity for its actions by too many in the international community including the USA, Germany, and Canada. This failure to act and hold Israel accountable is in part what has supported and allowed for the continuing and growing Nakba that we face. Justice delayed has always been justice denied, and ours has been denied by the Israeli settler-colonial occupation and its supporters since 1948.
A history unaddressed is a history that persists. This is not unique to Palestine, as we see this in the continued dispossession and violence against indigenous and first nation peoples on Turtle Island, and in the ongoing violence of slavery in industrial-prison complexes, and the police brutality against black and brown communities and people. These histories which have yet to be reconciled persist today and are directly felt by the survivors of these violences through their continued subjection to systems of oppression, inequity, and discrimination. The specific details and shapes of this violence may be context specific, but it is rooted in the same disregard for life, whether human or otherwise.
In Palestine this disregard is held in the everyday experiences of the Nakba and range in violence from the genocide and mass destruction of our fields, communities, families, and homes, to the denial and failure to recognize our culture, our people, and the appropriation of our foods, our music, our culture, and our artifacts. Yet, like our olive groves, we will persist, and resist by practicing Sumud. Where we fall, you will find buried the future and present seeds of our continued resistance. Nakba is what the settler-colonial-occupiers and those who support them have decided for us, and our survival, Sumud, and community building, fully armed with our love of life, is what we have decided for ourselves and is how we continue to defy and resist these systems of oppression.
But far from romanticized notions of Sumud and resistance, there is pain, devastation, and mass destruction. Since October 2023, over 70 percent of Gaza has been destroyed. Over 72,000 Palestinians have been murdered, and over 2 million people displaced. In the West Bank, Jenin and Tulkarim refugee camp have largely been destroyed, and over 40,000 Palestinians displaced. Many people wish to leave, not because they hate home, but because their home is no longer standing, or because they no longer see any security in where they come from. Resistance is not a choice when annihilation and conquest are the only alternative. And this Nakba day, like all Nakba days since 1948 we continue to call upon you and upon the free world to recognize us, our humanity, our right to life, and to take decisive and appropriate actions not just to end the militarized settler colonial occupation of Palestine, but to ensure that we are able to live freely with dignity, sharing the land, its histories, and its bounty with the whole of the world. As such, to you our brothers, sisters, siblings, and relatives in Canada, we ask for the following:
- Continue to address and recognize the history of suffering that has been committed against your BIPOC communities. Recognize this history and call out the everyday actors with courage, recognizing our shared universal potential for transformation. Call them out boldly and move lovingly as we strategize and dismantle these systems of oppression jointly. Join causes, marches, protests, and people in your communities and around the world in this important work. Palestine and the Palestinian people are in dire need of your support and active commitment to justice, but it is hard and unreasonable to expect it effectively and internationally, when injustice is growing and still being practiced locally and nationally.
- Be accountable for your resources and enact agency over your resources consciously. Do you support genocide or oppression? If not, then none of our resources should be used to further these actions, whether through our own consumption, investment, or taxpaid.
- a. Continue to call upon the government to act justly in alignment with your values, in alignment with International and Humanitarian laws, and in alignment with our joint and universal rights to life. Look and join groups in your community and region already committed to this type of resistance.
- b. Choose consciously and intentionally who you do business with, whom you give your resources to and when you choose to disengage or divest, do it in a way which lets the business or company know why you are taking these actions. Let them know that you do not support oppression and that you are taking your business elsewhere, until they have ceased their injustice or complicity.
- c. Invest in communities, in organizations, corporations and institutions that are doing their part to further justice, to help, and that are aligned with your core values.
Finally, this Nakba day, we ask you to be reflective, reflexive, and intentional. Let us take a deep look at the language, discourses, and logics we use. Let us effectively move away from that which would separate and alienate us from each other and instead move towards that which recognizes our shared humanity and works toward the promotion of life, equity, and dignity. Let us recognize the great potential that we have in building presents and sustaining just and equitable futures, markedly different than many realities lived today, and in our recognition, take action to protect, support, and strengthen the communities suffering today, through the language and the logics we employ, through our economic activity and participation in the local, national and international markets, through our civic participation and government representatives- who must be accountable to us, in our daily disruptions and interruptions of systems of oppression, and in our daily and community life- in belonging to each other, and to the land, wherever, and everywhere that we find ourselves. May we continue to come together, not as oppressors and oppressed, marginalized and privileged, but instead as relatives, as siblings, brothers, and sisters, as interconnected complex constellations of lives- all with the same unalienable and legitimate right to life, the right to live, thrive, love, and be loved.
Diala Ghattas- Social Worker and Administrative Assistant
she provided the original in Arabic and the AI translation of it.
من منظوري كديالا غطاس اعتبر بان النكبة ليست مجرد ذكرى عشناها فقط في الماضي بل واقع ما زلنا نعيشه ونختبره يوميًا من خلال الخوف، والفقد، والحرمان من أبسط حقوق الإنسان كالعيش بأمان.
ورسالتي للعالم أننا كشعب فلسطيني ما زالنا متمسكين بأرضنا وكرامتنا وهويتنا، وأن السلام الحقيقي يبدأ بالعدالة والإنسانية وحق الشعوب في العيش بأمان وحرية بعيدا عن الحروب والخوف والصراعات واي نزاع ممكن ان نتعرض له كشعب فلسطيني.
Translation:
From my perspective as Diala Ghattas, I believe that the Nakba is not just a memory from the past, but a reality we continue to live and experience every day through fear, loss, and the deprivation of the most basic human rights, such as living safely and with dignity.
My message to the world is that the Palestinian people remain deeply attached to their land, dignity, and identity, and that true peace begins with justice, humanity, and the right of all people to live in safety and freedom, far from wars, fear, conflicts, and any form of violence or suffering that we as Palestinians may continue to face.
Yasmeen
She does not want her last name to be included… but she gave us an introduction to herself as well… ‘I am Yasmeen, a 21-year-old Palestinian student majoring in English Literature, Communication, and Translation. Passionate about languages, storytelling, and using words to bridge the gap between our reality and the rest of the world’
They named me Yasmeen. Jasmine. A flower that is supposed to be sweet and delicate. But when you are born Palestinian, into a landscape of concrete walls and barbed wire, you quickly learn that "delicate/ نعومه" is a luxury you cannot afford.
You see, the reality I live today didn’t start at a modern military checkpoint; it started long before I was born. I carry the memory of my paternal grandmother. In 1948, during the Nakba, she was just a little girl living in Ramle…her family that day was hosting a gathering, and her mother asked her to step outside to the storage room to fetch some flour.
Unfortunately, the moment she stepped out the door, Zionist militias dropped a barrel bomb on their home.
In a fraction of a second, her entire family inside was killed. Her mother, who had walked right behind her to the threshold, was crushed by the collapsing door and died in the strike. My grandmother, just a child, went into profound shock. A simple, everyday request for flour turned into a lifetime of exile. She was displaced to Gaza, and then, in 1967, she was forced to flee all over again……this time to Bethlehem.
She survived double displacement, carrying unimaginable grief, just so I could exist today.
When you have that kind of history running through your veins, the absurdity of my daily life becomes surreal. The trauma of 1948 simply morphed into the occupation of my Tuesday mornings. Today, my commute means holding my breath at an iron turnstile, hoping a teenage soldier with a rifle is in a good enough mood to let me pass so I can get to work. It’s the theft of the mundane. It’s having to constantly justify your right to breathe the air of the land your ancestors bled for.
But I am not sharing this for pity. Pity is paralyzing, and frankly, I don't have time for it.
In Palestine, we have a concept called Sumud (صمود) steadfastness. It is the radical, defiant act of living joyfully despite a system designed to erase you. My Sumud isn’t just in protesting; it’s in the sharp flick of my eyeliner before I walk out the door. It’s in the loud, exhausted laughs I share with strangers stuck in the same checkpoint traffic. It is the pulse of my grandmother’s survival beating in my chest, and my absolute, unapologetic refusal to surrender my humanity.
Lucy Thalgieh
For me, as Lucy, the Nakba is not a date in the past or a political epithet. It is a living memory passed down from generation to generation, beginning in 1948 and continuing through 1967, personally marked by the loss of my grandparents, uncle, and aunt. This is not history from a distance; it is part of everyday consciousness and family memory.
It is the loss of home, the breaking apart of families, and the ongoing search for dignity, safety, and belonging. At the same time, it speaks to something deeply rooted: resilience. Identity has been sustained through stories, culture, and survival in the face of displacement and hardship.
The Nakba is lived as something ongoing, not a closed chapter. It shapes how belonging is understood, how injustice is recognized, and how hope is held onto even in difficult realities.
This is a human story that requires recognition, justice, and empathy. No people’s history can be understood without acknowledging both suffering and resilience. Any way forward must be grounded in dignity, rights, and a just future where memory is honored and repeated displacement is never normalized.
For Palestinians, restorative justice and acknowledgment are not symbolic they are necessary for healing and accountability. This also includes serious engagement with international legal frameworks and mechanisms of responsibility, including the role of the International Criminal Court, which is mandated to investigate grave violations of international law in situations under its jurisdiction, including the situation in Palestine. True accountability requires that international law is applied consistently, and that all parties are held responsible where violations are established, as part of a broader commitment to justice and the protection of civilian life.
Imad Nassar- Project Coordinator
Nakba represents for me a profound separation from our homeland and the uprooting of our deep-rooted connections to the land. This event has left severe and enduring wounds in our hearts. Our message is clear: justice on earth and in heaven cannot be achieved without returning the land to its rightful owners.
The absence of justice only ensures that hatred and bloodshed will continue to prevail. It's crucial that we extend a sincere hand of peace between the peoples of Israel and Palestine. Together, let's work towards creating a future that our next generation can thrive in, one that's enriched by mutual understanding and respect.
This endeavor honors the magnificent teachings of the three monotheistic religions, which advocate for compassion and harmony. By embracing these values, we can transform the land into one of hope, unity, and peaceful coexistence.
A Young Palestinian
The Nakba of 1948 did not end with a ceasefire; it simply mutated, flowing like an inherited trauma through the bloodlines of every generation that followed. As a young Palestinian adult, I carry a grief I never personally witnessed, an ancestral ache that shapes my identity before I even have the chance to define it myself. In this reality, names lose their meaning, they are reduced to ID numbers, checkpoint clearances, or statistics on a screen. After the Nakba, what is a name when the land it belonged to has been renamed, and the homes that echoed it have been demolished? We are a generation of passionate, deeply feeling young adults who are forced to fight just for the mundane luxury of a normal life, to love, to study, to build a future without the looming shadow of displacement. What the internet, with its viral videos and fleeting headlines, will never understand is the quiet, exhausting intimacy of this struggle. It doesn't know the suffocating weight of having your existence politicized before you are even born, or the profound loneliness of thriving in a world that only acknowledges your humanity when you are grieving. It cannot capture the silent resilience it takes to dream of normalcy when the very ground beneath your feet is treated as a temporary arrangement. For me, being Palestinian is what I want to be called by…
Adel - unemployed father of 3 involved in Wi’am programming
Al Nakba, the catastrophe in Arabic is the term that the Palestinians use to describe the time when the Zionists invaded Palestine and declared the establishment of Israel claiming that God promised Prophet Moses and the Jewish people that they will get the Promised Land. This catastrophe describes what happens when people from other parts of the world come to Palestine claiming to be part of the Jewish Diaspora and get Israeli citizenship. Many people from Europe, Africa, Russia or other countries come and become Israeli citizens. Israel can banish Palestinians who were born and lived all their lives in Palestine and prevent them from coming back although most of them dream of coming back. It is devastating that people believe it when strangers to their country say that they own the Holy Land because it is mentioned in the Bible. It does not give them the right own Palestine if they bomb many places therein, like what they have been doing in Gaza since October 7, 2023.
Zoughbi Zoughbi – Founder and Executive Director of Wi’am
The Nakba of 1948 -the Catastrophe- did not only happen in 1948 but it has been happening since ever since.… This Friday, we mark the 78th anniversary of the Nakba, the beginning of the destruction of the Palestinian homeland; It is often described as “the genocidal campaign of annihilation”. When thinking about the Nakba today, I cannot but help think of it as part of The four stages of conquest according to Norman Finkelstein:
1. Elimination (Ethnic Cleansing/Removal) ,
2. Annihilation (Mass Killing/Extermination),
3. Encirclement (Siege and Control),
4. Destruction (Flattening and Erasure).
‘Stages’ might have us think that they happen in order, and in some ways they have, but today they happen all together, as can clearly be seen in the ongoing genocide of our brothers and sister in Gaza, and from the growing devastation and displacement in the West Bank, in Southern Lebanon, and too many other places around the world.
From our position in the world, as occupied, we have little to do with what happens with us, and so we look to you. We ask the World to act before it is too late!!!.
What is needed now are actions that effectively halt these wheels of eradication. More Marches, more demonstrations, more prayers, and more disruptive actions against settler-colonial-imperialism ….
So I ask and pray…May the wheels of barbarism be halted by our joint action and solidarity once and for all. May the Holy Spirit comfort us who remain in historic Palestine and all those who have continued to live in exile. May the genuine actors for World peace empower us in our resilience and steadfastness. May the UN agencies implement all the resolutions related to the causes of justice, including for the Palestinian people so that we may all be free, independent, sane and live in our indigenous homelands.
