A stunning speech by 9-year-old Moosa Imran closed the Bristol Palestine rally. His passionate challenge is a reminder that children are witnessing the destruction of their future in Gaza.
Salaam, everyone. Today we are gathered here with heavy hearts – to remind the word of something it seems to have forgotten. Palestine is still burning.
After the so-called ‘ceasefire’ was announced, the headlines stopped. People went back to brunch, to deadlines, to everyday life, The world moved on.
But let me ask all those who stopped caring. Was it really a ceasefire?
Because even during the ceasefire: the bombs never truly stopped; the suffering never paused; the Occupation never ended.
And yet – the world stayed silent. Leaders stayed silent. Even our own communities, at times, stayed silent.
Right now 250 people are being killed every single day in Gaza. But it feels like no-one is even looking. Or even worse – they are looking, but they just don’t care.
We see videos of children dying in their sleep. Mothers holding their babies who are no longer alive. Doctors who are so tired and heartbroken, they can’t stand anymore.
And still – the world is silent.
Let me ask again. What kind of ceasefire lets bombs fall on places when families are hiding? What kind of ceasefire allows attacks on hospitals, schools, and shelters? What kind of ceaefure hurts helpers, reporters, and even children – on purpose?
This is not a ceasefire. This is a slaughter in silence.
And it is not just bombs and bullets that are killing Palestinians. It is our silence. It is the silence of those with power. It is the silence of the media; the silence of the politicians. It is your silence too!
So today I am not just here to speak. I am here to urge YOU to speak.
Speak when they say it is complicated. Speak when they say it’s a conflict – because this is not a conflict. This is genocide.
Talk about Gaza. To your friends, to your neighbours; to your families; to your co-workers. Keep talking until it becomes impossible to ignore.
And before I close, I want to share with you a dream. A dream I have held close to my heart for the last 18 months – a dream that feel more urgent with every child buried in Gaza.
I have a dream that one day Palestinian children will play freely in a land that belongs to them.
I have a dream of playing football with my brothers and sisters from Gaza, not over rubble, but in parks and playgrounds.
I have a dream of seeing joy return to the faces of children who have only known fear.
I have a dream that one day, from the River to the Sea – Palestine will be free.
