Batn al-Hawa, Occupied East Jerusalem – During his last days in the only home he’s ever known, Kayed Rajabi is spending most of his time on the family’s rooftop, gazing at Al-Aqsa Mosque just a stone’s throw across the Silwan valley. “Smoke, smoke, smoke,” Rajabi says anxiously, a cigarette in his hand. “That is all we can do.”A street sweeper for Jerusalem’s municipality, Rajabi has stopped going to work, afraid his family might be thrown out of their home while he’s out. His children and those of the other families facing imminent eviction have stopped going to school as well. Everyone is terrified about what might happen if they leave their homes for even a moment – while trying to have a last precious few moments together.“I’m 50 years old. I was born here,” says Rajabi as he looks across the valley of Silwan. “I opened my eyes in this house. My laughter, my sadness, my joy, and all my friends and loved ones are in this neighbourhood.” He is quiet for a moment and the silence is filled by the cooing of pigeons in the coops he and his brother take care of on their shared roof.After …
