Episode 32 : Cautious

Zawaq was determined not to act rashly, knowing that more Palestinians could be injured or killed. Several soldiers began destroying the crops that Zawaq and Uncle Ibrahim had cultivated.

"What do you want? Get away from here," Zawaq said to them.

A few soldiers pointed their weapons at Zawaq. He remained unfazed by their provocative actions.

Flashback: Three Months Earlier

Zawaq pushed a cart filled with fruits and vegetables toward the town, while Uncle Ibrahim followed with a smaller cart carrying his goods, including a small folding table.

Upon reaching the town, Uncle Ibrahim set up the table, placing a notebook and pencil on it. Zawaq spread out a piece of cloth on the ground and neatly arranged the fruits and vegetables on it to begin selling.

Sales were modest, with little profit. Nearly half of the produce was donated to children and the elderly. Zawaq silently observed Uncle Ibrahim's actions, following his instructions, such as packing vegetables or fruits into sacks for the recipients.

Though Zawaq didn't question Uncle Ibrahim's choices, a small part of him wanted to understand the older man's thoughts.

By midday, their business concluded. Zawaq pushed the now-empty cart, except for the folded cloth, the small table, and the worn notebook with its pencil.

"Thank God for today's blessings," Uncle Ibrahim said.

Zawaq gazed at his face, calm and marked with a faint smile. Despite the wrinkles, Uncle Ibrahim's face radiated an inner youthfulness, almost glowing like the morning sun. Zawaq simply nodded.

"We don't do business just for profit or to get rich quickly. We do it to meet the needs of others. Business is also about fulfilling needs, not just generating income. While profit is essential, much of our focus should be on addressing other people's needs," Uncle Ibrahim explained.

Zawaq nodded in agreement.

"Our purpose in doing business is to tackle social issues like poverty, education, or healthcare. Take what we're doing now, for instance. We're providing food and nourishment—vegetables and fruits that can satisfy hunger and offer nutrition. Ever since the war began, we've all felt its impact. Poverty affects us all," Uncle Ibrahim continued.

"If we have more to share, let us give in charity, as much as we can," he added.

"May God bless you, Uncle," Zawaq said to him.

"Thank you. May God bless you too, young man," Uncle Ibrahim replied, laughing lightly as he gently patted Zawaq's shoulder.

That Night

Uncle Ibrahim served Zawaq a plate of fried rice near the old mattress where Zawaq slept. Rising from his lying position, Zawaq said, "Thank you, Uncle. You didn't have to go through the trouble. I don't need to eat. You need it more than I do. I'm still young."

"Nonsense! Young people need food even more. You need strength. Eat!" Uncle Ibrahim insisted.

Unable to refuse, Zawaq took the plate of fried rice and began eating.

"Delicious?" Uncle Ibrahim asked.

"Delicious, Uncle. Very delicious," Zawaq replied, continuing his meal.

The Next Day

Zawaq cleaned the farm, planting new vegetables. The leftover plant scraps were used as fertilizer for the fruit trees.

Uncle Ibrahim sat on a wooden log chair, reading a holy book in Arabic as he waited for Zawaq to finish.

Zawaq worked tirelessly from morning until sunset, expanding the planting area and loosening the soil.

"Enough. Take a rest," Uncle Ibrahim said, placing a jug of water nearby.

Zawaq poured himself a drink and said, "Consider this my charity for you, Uncle."

Uncle Ibrahim chuckled and shook his head. "I don't need your charity. I'm old. No matter how much wealth you give me, I can't take it with me when I die."

"Why would you say that, Uncle?" Zawaq asked, his face solemn.

"Am I wrong?" Uncle Ibrahim replied.

"No, Uncle. You're right," Zawaq admitted.

"All I need from you is to make my life joyful. Even after I'm gone, I'll remember you fondly," Uncle Ibrahim said, smiling warmly.

"Alright, Uncle," Zawaq responded with a small smile.

Community Efforts

On other days, townspeople and villagers gathered for a community meeting, joined by Zawaq and Uncle Ibrahim.

"We need young men and women to dig wells. Most water facilities have been destroyed by the Zionist regime and Israeli soldiers. Food and drinks will be provided for the volunteers," announced the dark-skinned town leader, his white hair and beard reaching his chest.

"Go and help them," Uncle Ibrahim instructed Zawaq.

Nodding, Zawaq joined the other youth and began digging wells the next day.

At night, while the villagers rested, Zawaq continued digging alone by candlelight. Using only his bare hands, he tirelessly dug two wells simultaneously. Whenever he encountered large underground rocks, he smashed them with his fists, breaking them into smaller pieces before throwing them out of the well.

He dug tens of meters deep, and eventually, water began to flow beneath his feet.

Even as the water emerged, Zawaq continued digging to create more space for the water to fill the well.

By dawn, Zawaq climbed out of the third well just as the men emerged from their homes to perform their morning prayers.