By admin 
Khan Younis, Gaza – Just days ago, Najat al-Agha experienced overwhelming joy, believing her 33-year wait to reunite with her son was finally ending. But that hope shattered when she learned he would not be among the 620 Palestinian prisoners expected to be released on Saturday.
Diaa al-Agha, imprisoned for nearly 33 years for killing an Israeli officer at the age of 16, holds the record as the longest-serving prisoner from Gaza in Israeli jails. His mother, now 75, has spent decades campaigning for his release—attending sit-ins, speaking at conferences, and becoming a prominent figure among the families of detainees.
“Oh, my son, I waited for this moment for 33 years, and it vanished before my eyes,” she wept.
A Hope Destroyed
Najat is not alone in her devastation. The decision to halt the release of 620 Palestinian prisoners—despite it being part of a ceasefire deal—left families across Gaza in despair.
On Saturday, Hamas handed over six captives taken from Israel in October 2023, and in return, Israel was expected to release detainees from various periods. But that promise was not fulfilled.
“When they told us there would be no release, I collapsed, screaming: ‘Why? Why?’ Then I lost consciousness,” Najat recalled.
That morning, she and her family set out on Salah al-Din Street, the only road open to cars under Israeli restrictions, attempting to reach Khan Younis, where Diaa’s release was anticipated. The journey—roughly 24 kilometers (15 miles)—took over an hour due to heavy traffic.
“I kept pleading with the driver: ‘Please, son, hurry up,’” she said. But all he could reply was, “It’s out of my hands, mother, look at the traffic.”
When they finally arrived, relatives, neighbors, and friends had already gathered at their war-damaged home, preparing to celebrate Diaa’s homecoming.
“I was embracing people, barely believing this moment had finally arrived after 33 years,” she said.
Mothers of other detainees urged her to wear the embroidered dresses she had once prepared for Diaa’s return.
“They all knew about them,” she sighed, “but they were lost when my home was destroyed.”
Hope Rekindled, Then Shattered
When news came that Israel had agreed to include Diaa in Saturday’s batch of releases, Najat’s heart swelled with anticipation.
“I had dreamt of this day for so long,” she said through tears. “For 33 years, I feared I wouldn’t live to see my son free.”
But her joy was fleeting. In an instant, everything changed.
“I saw people crying, whispering. My children huddled together, and I heard: ‘No, not today.’”
She clung to her daughter, Ola. “Tell me what’s happening. What does ‘no’ mean?”
Her children tried to comfort her, assuring her it was just a delay. But to Najat, the world blurred.
“I didn’t want to hear anyone. I didn’t want to talk. I just screamed in protest until everything went dark.”
A Lifetime of Waiting
Diaa’s name has surfaced in previous prisoner exchange discussions, only to be repeatedly excluded. Israeli authorities have cited his crime as the reason for denying his release.
A member of the Fatah movement since age 13, he became involved in armed operations at 16. Now, decades later, he suffers from health issues affecting his bones and digestive system but has reportedly been denied adequate medical care.
Najat’s struggle extends beyond her son. Her husband, Zakaria, was arrested in 1973 for involvement in resistance groups and spent two years in Israeli custody. He passed away in 2005, a day after visiting Diaa in prison—an event she believes contributed to his fatal stroke.
Her eldest son, Azzam, was detained in 1990 for links to a military faction and spent four years in prison. Another son, Mohammed, served 12 years for allegedly firing at Israeli soldiers.
Through each ordeal, Najat waited, counting the days and visiting whenever possible. Despite restrictions, she continued to see Diaa—her last visit just one month before the war began.
“He was in good health and spirits,” she said. “I imagined spending my first Ramadan in 33 years with him, cooking his favorite meals myself to make up for lost time.”
An Unwavering Determination
As she left that night without her son, a painful question lingered in her mind:
“Are we just pawns to them? Thirty-three years of waiting—isn’t that enough?”
Despite the setback, Najat remains resolute.
“I will see my son free, hopefully very soon,” she said, her voice unwavering. “I’ve waited 33 years. I’ll wait a little longer.”
Gill Bikram Singh