Colombia halts coal exports to Israel amid Gaza Genocide
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Al Jazeera
2 hours ago
- Al Jazeera
I may starve to death before I am able to graduate in Gaza
On July 27, the Palestinian Ministry of Education released the results of the secondary education certificate exams, also known as tawjihi. Like every year, families sat together, eyes fixed on phone screens, hearts pounding, everyone hoping to be the first to access the ministry's website and break the news with a jubilant shout. There were joyful tears and celebrations. Thousands of students, who had endured months of pressure, sleepless nights and fragile hope, had the exam results in their hands that would determine whether and where they could continue their education. But thousands of others – those in Gaza – were sitting in their tents and ruined homes in despair. I am one of them. This is the second year I, along with 31,000 other Palestinians born in 2006, was unable to take the tawjihi. For another year, we have been stripped of our right to continue our education and of the hope to build a future beyond the ruins. Now, we are joined by almost 40,000 students born in 2007, who are also stuck in this dreadful limbo. Last year, when the tawjihi results were announced, I was huddled in front of a crackling fire near a tattered tent, far too small to hold my big dreams. The deep frustration I felt didn't fade – it settled in my mind and stayed. All I could think about was how all my sacrifices, tears, and relentless effort during a full year of studying under difficult circumstances had been for nothing. This year, it feels even worse. Not only are my dreams of education crushed, now I struggle to keep myself and my family alive, as Gaza is starving to death. In these two years, I have watched our education system destroyed, classroom by classroom. My school, Shohada al-Nusierat, once a place of learning and dreams, first became a shelter housing displaced families and then a target for Israeli bombing. My schoolbag – once filled with notebooks and study materials – now carries essential documents and a change of clothes, always packed and ready in case we are forced to flee our home again. The academic calendar, with all its important dates, has been replaced by a grim schedule of air strikes, displacement, and loss of friends and loved ones. Amid this devastation, the Education Ministry has struggled to keep an educational process going. Wanting to give Gaza's children and youth hope, it has undertaken various initiatives to try to keep students motivated. Makeshift schools have been organised wherever possible, while some university students have been able to continue their education online. For us, the tawjihi students, efforts were repeatedly made to set up our exams. Last year, the ministry announced it would conduct the exams in February. I kept studying, despite the harsh reality and the collapse of everything around me, believing this was my chance to move forward. February passed, and nothing happened. The ministry then announced that the exams would be held in April. But once again, they were postponed due to the unsafe conditions. Then, in June, the ministry scheduled an online exam for July for students born in 2005 who had either failed their tawjihi or missed some of its exams; they were supposed to have done this exam in December 2023. Some 1,500 students were able to take the tests online. This gave me a bit of hope that my turn would also come, but that quickly faded. The Ministry of Education hasn't given us any updates on the process, and it feels like we've been completely forgotten in the shadow of war and starvation. Some readers may ask themselves, why amid a genocide are Palestinians so preoccupied with an exam? You have to understand, tawjihi is a milestone in every Palestinian's life – a decisive moment that shapes future paths for at least the next five years. It determines whether we can pursue our education in the field we desire and gain admission to top universities. But beyond academics, tawjihi carries a much deeper cultural and emotional weight. It is not just an educational phase – it is part of our identity, a symbol of perseverance. In a place where the occupation closes nearly every door, education is able to keep a few doors still open. That's why we celebrate it like a national holiday; the day tawjihi results are released feels like a third Eid for Palestinians. It gives families hope, brings pride to entire neighbourhoods, and keeps alive the dream of a better future. Over the many months I waited for the tawjihi, I held on to my dream to study medicine at a prestigious university abroad. I kept applying for scholarships and sending emails to universities across the United States, the United Kingdom and Europe, hoping for special consideration as a student affected by war. I pleaded with university administrators to waive the tawjihi certificate requirement. But the responses were painfully consistent: 'Unfortunately, we cannot consider your application unless you provide your final diploma.' Today, despair and helplessness are not the only unwanted visitors I have. Hunger is another one. The starvation has destroyed not only my body but also my mental health. Most days, we manage to have one meal. We survive mostly on canned beans, dry bread, or rice without any vegetables or protein. Our bodies are weak, our faces pale, and our energy almost nonexistent. The effects go beyond the physical. Hunger fogs the brain, dulls memory and crushes motivation. It becomes nearly impossible to focus, let alone study for a life-changing exam like the tawjihi. How can I prepare for the most important exam of my life when my stomach is empty and my mind clouded by fatigue and worry? It feels as though my youth has been stolen before my eyes, and I can do nothing but watch. While my peers around the world are building their futures, I remain stuck in a place of overwhelming pain and loss. As a tawjihi student trapped in a warzone, I urgently call on educational authorities and international institutions to step in and implement immediate solutions to ensure our right to education is not buried under the rubble of war. We are not asking for much. Giving us a chance to finish our secondary education in Gaza is not just a matter of logistics, but a matter of justice and future survival. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
Al Jazeera
12 hours ago
- Al Jazeera
LIVE: Israeli forces kill 106 Palestinians in one day of attacks on Gaza
Al Jazeera Arabic's correspondent has described a 'bloody Friday in Gaza' where Israeli attacks killed 106 people across the war-torn enclave. The Palestinian Red Crescent Society said 12 people were killed and 90 were injured when Israeli forces targeted civilians who had gathered to wait for aid trucks southwest of Gaza City.
Al Jazeera
20 hours ago
- Al Jazeera
Colombia's ex-President Alvaro Uribe sentenced to 12 years of house arrest
Former Colombian President Alvaro Uribe has been sentenced to 12 years of house arrest following his conviction for witness-tampering and bribery, according to local media reports. The sentencing hearing on Friday also resulted in Uribe, 73, receiving a fine of $578,000 and a ban from serving in public office for 100 months and 20 days — or just over eight years. He is now required to report to authorities in Rionegro, in his home province of Antioquia. Afterwards, Judge Sandra Liliana Heredia has ordered him to 'proceed immediately to his residence where he will comply with house arrest'. With his conviction on July 28, Uribe has become the first former Colombian president to be found guilty in a criminal trial. But Uribe's defence lawyers have already announced that they plan to appeal. The sentencing culminates a six-month trial and nearly 13 years of legal back-and-forth for the popular conservative leader, who is considered one of the defining forces in modern-day Colombian politics. His house arrest also comes less than a year before Colombia is set to hold presidential elections in May 2026. Allegations of human rights abuses The case centres around Uribe's role in Colombia's more than six-decade-long internal conflict, which has seen government forces, right-wing paramilitaries, left-wing rebel groups and drug-trafficking networks all fighting for control over parts of the country. During his tenure as president from 2002 to 2010, Uribe led a strong-armed offensive against left-wing rebels like the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), the largest such group at the time. But that approach earned him criticism for alleged human rights abuses, which he has denied. Under his presidency, the Colombian military faced increasing accusations that it was killing civilians in order to boost the number of enemy combatants it could report as dead. This practice, known as the 'false positives' scandal, has been implicated in the deaths of at least 2,000 people, with experts indicating that the number could be far higher. As many as 6,402 killings have been investigated. Critics have also questioned Uribe's ties to right-wing paramilitaries, another allegation the ex-president has rejected. But more than a decade ago, Uribe took action to silence one of his most prominent critics, leftist Senator Ivan Cepeda, sparking his current trial. Cepeda and others had drawn connections between Uribe's rise in politics in the 1990s and the creation of the paramilitary group Bloque Metro. A legal boomerang In 2012, Uribe filed a libel complaint against Cepeda with Colombia's Supreme Court, after the senator launched a probe into the ex-president's paramilitary contacts. But in 2018, the case took a surprising new direction: The Supreme Court dismissed the complaint against Cepeda, and the court system instead started to weigh charges against Uribe instead. Prosecutors accused Uribe of seeking to pressure paramilitary witnesses to change or suppress their testimony. While Uribe has admitted to sending lawyers to meet with former members of Colombia's paramilitaries, he has denied taking illegal actions. Two paramilitaries have testified that Uribe's lawyer Diego Cadena, who also faces criminal charges, offered them money to give favourable evidence. Their witness statements were also being used in a murder trial featuring Uribe's brother, Santiago Uribe. Uribe's conviction was announced after a 10-hour hearing in which Judge Heredia said there was ample evidence that the ex-president sought to change witness testimony. But that decision has sparked backlash from the United States, where the administration of President Donald Trump has shown willingness to place political pressure on countries like Brazil that pursue criminal cases against former right-wing leaders. On Monday, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio wrote on social media in defence of Uribe, repeating charges of judicial bias that have become commonplace under Trump. 'Former Colombian President Uribe's only crime has been to tirelessly fight and defend his homeland,' Rubio said. 'The weaponization of Colombia's judicial branch by radical judges has now set a worrisome precedent.' But Democrats in the US accused Trump of seeking to subvert the rule of law overseas for political gains. 'The Trump Admin is saying that foreign leaders shouldn't be subject to rule of law if they say nice things about Trump,' Representative Jim McGovern wrote in reply to Rubio's message. 'It is very wrong to support impunity for a strongman held accountable by courts in his own country. This statement is shameful, and you know it.'
