My remarkable aunt, daughter of Lifta

A young Aida (left) flanked by her beloved mother, Fattoum Hammoudeh, and brother, my late father Aref Najjar (circa 1978)

My Amti Aida​ Najjar touched many lives — sometimes roughly, sometimes aggressively, sometimes tenderly, sometimes inspiringly, but always loudly and deeply.

And when death encroached on her carefully-composed life, she did not, for a second, consider going gently into that good night. She raged with the same force of will that had allowed her to manipulate her environment and the people in it to…



Palestinian and righteously angry

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