The city of Beit Hanoun is not just a city, but an endless love story. It is the pulse of the heart, the anthrax, and the unforgettable childhood cradle. In its old alleys, we learned to walk on the gravel, and under the shadows of its orchards, we played, laughed, and our dream. It is the land that embraced us young, and taught us dignity and steadfastness. Every stone in it narrates the story of patience, every smell in it that ignites nostalgia, and every one of its air whispears in its name: Beit Hanoun. Despite the pain and destruction, despite the storms that tried to uproot its roots, it will remain alive in us, firmly in our souls, as love is established in the heart of the lover. We love it as we love life. We yearn for her as the stranger yearns for his mother’s bosom. We will return to it, no matter how long the absence, and whatever the methods change, because the affiliation is not honest, nostalgia does not die, and the Hanoun house is unforgettable. . Activist_ Hamza_Mo Al -Masry
The city of Beit Hanoun is not just a city, but an endless love story. It is the pulse of the heart,
