Tahani's Story

My house is located in Hebron's Old City, in the West Bank of Palestine, very close to a military checkpoint. Passing through it is unpredictable and often unsafe. Years ago, during the events of 1994, we made a decision no family should ever have to make: we opened a small window in our home and began using it to enter and leave instead of the front door.

If someone in the family is sick, if we need groceries, if we are coming home late at night, or anything, we use this window. It is easier, and it feels safer than passing by the Israeli soldiers and having to go through the stress of passing through the checkpoint every single day. The window has become our entrance, our exit, our way to survive daily life under the Occupation. 

Sometimes, people are not allowed to pass at all. They are stopped, searched or turned back – especially during holidays.  

For years, we completely stopped using the main door of our house. The idea that it might be unsafe to walk through your own doorway is something no one should have to live with. 

This reality makes me deeply sad. I truly wish I could open my front door freely. Entering your own home through a small window, feeling like you are sneaking in like a thief, is a painful and humiliating feeling. I only used the front door once recently and only with great difficulty, because I had large items that simply could not fit through the window. 

Despite all of this, I refuse to believe that this is all life has to offer. 

What changed something inside me recently, was joining the Stronger Women Stronger Nations programme with Women for Women International. Through this programme, I did not only gain skills, I gained strength.

Before, many of us felt hesitant and unsure of ourselves. But through the support, solidarity and understanding we experienced, our confidence grew. We began to feel our inner power again. 

As a woman who supports her household, I am eager to learn, to grow and to build a better future. The programme reminded me that even in the hardest circumstances, we still have agency, dignity and the ability to stand strong together.

My greatest hope is simple. I want my children and my grandchildren to live with more safety than we have known.

I want the fear that follows us every day to disappear. I hope the international community will truly look at how we are living, not just hear about it, but see it. 

Everyday, I dream of peace. 

Everyday, I dream of opening my front door and walking through it freely. 

And everyday, I hold onto hope that a safer, more dignified life is still possible.