When I turned 19, I started my career as the first female photojournalist in the Gaza Strip, Palestine. My work as a woman photographer was considered a serious insult to local traditions, and created a lasting stigma for me and my family. The male-dominated field made my presence unwelcome by all possible means. They made clear that a woman must not do a man's job. Photo agencies in Gaza refused to train me because of my gender. The "No" sign was pretty clear.
Ketika usia saya 19 tahun, saya memulakan kerjaya sebagai wartawan jurufoto wanita pertama di Wilayah Gaza, Palestin. Kerjaya saya sebagai jurufoto wanita dianggap sebagai penghinaan kepada tradisi tempatan, dan mewujudkan stigma kepada saya dan keluarga. Bidang yang didominasi lelaki ini membuat kehadiran saya langsung tidak disenangi. Mereka jelas tidak mahu wanita bekerja seperti lelaki. Agensi berita di Gaza tidak mahu melatih saya hanya kerana jantina saya. Perkara ini amat jelas.
Three of my colleagues went as far as to drive me to an open air strike area where the explosion sounds were the only thing I could hear. Dust was flying in the air, and the ground was shaking like a swing beneath me. I only realized we weren't there to document the event when the three of them got back into the armored Jeep and drove away, waving and laughing, leaving me behind in the open air strike zone.
Tiga rakan sekerja saya sanggup membawa saya ke kawasan yang dibedil di mana bunyi letupan merupakan satu-satunya bunyi yang saya dengari. Habuk beterbangan di udara, dan bumi bergegar kuat. Saya cuma sedar kedatangan kami bukan untuk membuat liputan apabila mereka naik semula ke dalam kenderaaan perisai dan memandu pergi, melambai sambil tertawa, meninggalkan saya di zon serangan udara terbuka.
For a moment, I felt terrified, humiliated, and sorry for myself. My colleagues' action was not the only death threat I have received, but it was the most dangerous one.
Untuk seketika, saya sangat ketakutan, berasa malu, dan kasihan kepada diri sendiri. Tindakan rakan sekerja saya bukan satu-satunya ugutan bunuh yang saya terima, tapi yang pasti inilah yang paling berbahaya.
The perception of women's life in Gaza is passive. Until a recent time, a lot of women were not allowed to work or pursue education. At times of such doubled war including both social restrictions on women and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, women's dark and bright stories were fading away. To men, women's stories were seen as inconsequential.
Persepsi cara hidup wanita di Gaza adalah sangat pasif. Masih ramai wanita yang tidak dibenarkan untuk bekerja dan pergi belajar. Pada masa perang berganda yang termasuk kekangan sosial pada wanita dan konflik Israel-Palestin, tidak banyak cerita susah senang wanita dihebahkan. Pada kaum lelaki, cerita-cerita ini tidak bermakna.
I started paying closer attention to women's lives in Gaza. Because of my gender, I had access to worlds where my colleagues were forbidden. Beyond the obvious pain and struggle, there was a healthy dose of laughter and accomplishments. In front of a police compound in Gaza City during the first war in Gaza, an Israeli air raid managed to destroy the compound and break my nose. For a moment, all I saw was white, bright white, like these lights. I thought to myself I either got blind or I was in heaven. By the time I managed to open my eyes, I had documented this moment.
Saya mula mengambil lebih perhatian kepada kehidupan wanita di Gaza. Kerana jantina saya, saya ada akses kepada dunia yang tidak dapat dilihat oleh rakan sekerja saya. Di sebalik keperitan dan kepayahan, banyak juga cerita indah, gelak ketawa dan pencapaian. Di hadapan balai polis di Bandar Gaza ketika perang pertama di sana, serangan udara tentera Israel berjaya memusnahkannya dan mematahkan hidung saya. Untuk seketika, semuanya kelihatan sangat terang, seperti lampu di atas pentas ini. Saya terfikir, samada saya sudah buta atau saya sudah berada di Syurga. Dan apabila saya membuka mata, saya mendokumentasikan saat itu.
Mohammed Khader, a Palestinian worker who spent two decades in Israel, as his retirement plan, he decided to build a four-floor house, only by the first field operation at his neighborhood, the house was flattened to the ground. Nothing was left but the pigeons he raised and a jacuzzi, a bathtub that he got from Tel Aviv. Mohammed got the bathtub on the top of the rubble and started giving his kids an every morning bubble bath.
Mohammed Khader, sorang pekerja warga Palestin sudah dua dekad tinggal di Israel, pelan persaraan beliau ialah, dia merancang untuk membina rumah empat tingkat, tapi sebab serangan di kawasan kejiranannya, rumahnya roboh. Tiada apa yang tinggal, cuma burung merpati peliharaannya dan tab mandi yang dibelinya di Tel Aviv. Mohammed mengusung tab mandi itu dan di atas sisa runtuhan dan mula memandikan anak-anaknya setiap pagi di situ.
My work is not meant to hide the scars of war, but to show the full frame of unseen stories of Gazans. As a Palestinian female photographer, the journey of struggle, survival and everyday life has inspired me to overcome the community taboo and see a different side of war and its aftermath. I became a witness with a choice: to run away or stand still.
Kerja saya bukan untuk menutup luka-luka perang, tapi untuk memberi sudut pandang berbeza cerita-cerita warga Gaza. Sebagai seorang jurufoto wanita Palestin, kisah perjuangan, keperitan dan kisah seharian adalah inspirasi saya untuk melawan stigma masyarakat dalam melihat sisi lain peperangan dan kesannya. Saya adalah saksi dengan satu pilihan: lari, atau berdiri teguh.
Thank you.
Terima kasih.
(Applause)
(Tepukan)