This Mother’s Day, as much as I want to celebrate being a mother to a wonderful child, my mind is plagued by the struggle and plight of mothers in Palestine.

 The mothers outliving their children, the mothers mourning their young children, the mothers giving birth amidst destruction, the mothers protecting their children with their lives, the mothers becoming single parents overnight, the mothers leaving this world not knowing whether their children are orphaned or even alive.

The helpless feeling of knowing the situation but being so far removed from it feels dystopian. I then look at my family and begin to undertake the most difficult task on my plate: explaining this to my own child.

 Growing up in Zimbabwe, not so long after the apartheid that originated in South Africa, but spread to neighboring countries such as ours, I heard many stories from my family about the segregation and treatment of anyone who wasn’t white. Hearing these stories and their pain, although I could empathize, I couldn’t imagine it. Nor did I imagine I’d see anything similar in today’s “advanced” or “civilized” world we live in. 

Since October 7, 2023, approximately 31,704 Palestinians have been killed due to Israel’s relentless bombardment. How do I even begin to explain to my child this level of violence and destruction?

I felt the weight of many parents who would inevitably have to explain this to their children. This is a light burden compared to the parents living in Gaza, having to bury their children, having to protect them, and having to live knowing they could leave their children’s lives any day. I shoulder this burden to the best of my ability by amplifying the voices of the voiceless and educating people, including my child. 

“Genocide is the crime of killing many people who are all part of one ethnic or religious group, or some sort of similar group and trying to destroy that group. Genocide is done usually by a group, such as a government, or military group, not by one person or a small number of people.” 

The first day I decided to start teaching her about the destruction happening in Gaza, I turned on the news channel. Although the information they spew all day is inaccurate and biased, the imagery is censored, and it’s still hard to digest – it’s slightly less graphic for a child. 

It didn’t take long for the loud bangs and falling buildings to attract her attention and that’s when she asked me “Mummy what’s happening? Is this a movie?”

I decided the best way forward was honesty. I told her it wasn’t a movie, that it was real life and her face soon morphed into shock. I reassured her that it wasn’t our country. I went on to tell her that it was a war, that bad people were doing this. She then, very logically, asked, “Are people being killed?” Torn between wanting her to know the truth and protecting her innocent view of the world, I simply couldn’t answer. 

Her father stepped in at the right moment, knowing where my mind was, and answered her truthfully, telling her that people were dying, their homes were being destroyed and they were not safe. Her shock remained and became coupled with confusion as she tried to comprehend what this meant. 

She’s too young to understand the vast amounts of people being affected but also old enough to understand that even if this is happening to one person it’s bad. She took her time before speaking again, playing with the toys in front of her.

Her next question broke my already broken heart: “What about the children?” 

What about the children?! How could we tell her that children, like her, innocent in this world, were being killed, injured, orphaned, starved and abandoned? As she made the link between them and herself, so did we as her parents. 

The feeling of despair for children in Palestine suddenly intensified as it hit a little closer to home. Holding back tears and swallowing the lump in my throat I pulled her closer to me and told her the truth. That children were being hurt, some of them were dying, some of them were losing their families, their homes. 

The silence that followed made us realize that we’ve had to burden the mind of our child with the harsh reality. After taking time to regain composure, I asked her if she wanted to help them, her eagerness was clear as she hounded me with questions on how we could help, including a quick line about “mummy, I don’t know how to fight in a war.” 

We started collecting clothes, shoes and toys to donate, and she took money out of her money box to add to the donations. I felt a kinship with her determination to do whatever she could, and use whatever she could to help. 

 The guilt is a double-edged sword, I’m guilty because I feel like I’m not explaining the gravity of the situation to her but I’m also guilty because I feel like I’m burdening an innocent child with information that is so disturbing it makes most grown adults cry. However, I think it’s important for her to know that these atrocities happen in the world. 

This is heightened in young children who rely more on imagination than rationality simply because they’re not capable of it yet. 

When significant events happen with or around children, it’s important for us as parents, as trusted people in their lives, to talk with them about it, no matter how difficult.

Children, mine included, are curious about the world. They will search for answers and explanations. Even in situations where we would rather they not. When situations where violence or tragedy occur, this is no different. If we don’t discuss it with them at home, that doesn’t make it go away. They might learn of it from a friend at school, at someone’s home, in passing when adults are discussing it or even glances when the TV is on. 

They may seem like they’re not paying attention, but these things, particularly the graphic imagery, linger in their minds and it’s up to us to help draw conclusions rather than let them do that on their own. We can’t be afraid to ask them questions about how they’re feeling – the damage is done, don’t be afraid to dive deeper before resurfacing.

 After hours of reading and research, I’ve come to a few conclusions that may work for my family (I say my because at the end of the day, this is my first time parenting and living in this overly exposed world)

• Firstly I tell her the details in an age-appropriate manner. I feel it’s important to give her the run-down before she hears about it elsewhere. My understanding is that by getting this information from us as her parents, we can limit the anxiety she may feel when receiving heavy information. Giving her simple, accurate information will help her build a firm foundation of understanding. We try to avoid overwhelming, detailed explanations beyond her understanding. For example, we try to avoid telling her graphic details like “there were body parts splayed across the streets” rather we say “a lot of people were badly hurt.”

There is a risk that by ignoring the situation or avoiding the topic it can make your child feel like the topic is taboo or off limits. As a result, they may hide their feelings or not ask questions leading to perhaps an unhealthy or incorrect understanding of the situation.

I also believe it’s okay to not have all the answers. Children are often looking for comfort or reassurance and we can provide that without being historians or political experts.

• We emphasize her safety. Explaining that tragedy is happening relatively far away from her and that she’s safe in her home, school, and environment helps her to remove herself from the equation to an extent and enables her to look almost objectively and empathetically at the situation. Highlighting the work of emergency services also gives children an air of reassurance of their own safety. Although this is not the case in Gaza with IOF forces going as far as to attack ambulances and emergency services, this isn’t something the little ones need to know right now. We remind her of the safety features available around us; looking for a safe adult, talking to the police, and the smoke alarm that sets off the loud sound. These things are standard measures of safety that she’s used to. 

• We try to limit her exposure. In our home, we avoid watching the news when our daughter is awake and moving around. Even those short glances when she’s playing with her toys on the carpet are enough for her to see and form opinions on how bad the situation is. We’ve all been in a situation where we’re scrolling mindlessly with a little one peeking at your phone, we are making a conscious effort to be mindful of what we’re watching or looking at when she’s nearby.

Most children these days have access to their own devices. It’s important now more than ever to monitor what they’re engaging with. As we try to share the plight of Palestinians as far and wide as we can, we have to also remember as consumers that sometimes the audience receiving our messages are not those we’re targeting. That doesn’t mean stop sharing, that means as parents and guardians we shoulder the responsibility to keep an eye on what our children are viewing.

• We talk openly about our emotions. Don’t be afraid to tell your children that what is happening, a genocide, makes you sad and angry. I found that by sharing our feelings, it created an open platform for her to see that sharing emotions is not a bad thing and hopefully she feels more comfortable telling us how she feels about this and other situations.

We make sure to listen to her, which is not always about listening but also watching, observing and encouraging her to share more. We try to encourage her to put her empathy to good use, by donating clothes, and talking to her about donating money. This is a useful tactic to help children feel helpful and encourage helping others from a young age.

• We remain calm. When having these difficult conversations with children I find it’s best to stay calm. If they see you in panic mode this could heighten their anxiety as they feel they should panic too. Be open but if you feel like you’re getting overwhelmed take a step away, we don’t want to scare them more than the reality.

• Finally, we observe and repeat. Children’s behavior is very influenced by their emotions. In situations like this, there is more often than not the possibility of “big feelings” whether it is confusion about what’s happening, fear about something happening to them, or even empathy for what other children are going through (this may not be displayed in the ways we see in adults, they’re still working through displaying emotions). 

We are constantly on the lookout for new patterns and behaviors. Is she being more clingy? Has the separation anxiety heightened? Is she more scared when there are loud noises? My daughter was more anxious about the sounds around her after our first conversation. She made the (correct) correlation between “war” and loud bangs, making her understandably jumpier. 

We tackled this by talking to her about how the noises are scary and reassuring her of her own safety at home. Talking about what those noises could be and acknowledging that her assessment was not wrong. She’s now understanding better that she is not in danger at this moment but other children hearing those sounds could be. This is where the repeat comes in. The atrocities in Gaza are ongoing and as such so are our conversations. We have to continue to repeat the cycle of explaining and sharing so she knows this is happening and we’re allowed to talk about it as many times as we want to.

These are just some of the methods I’m trying to use to educate and comfort my child. I’m hoping to raise an activist who learns from as young as five years old that speaking out against injustice is important. The words “never again” were used when talking about the holocaust, but we’ve seen clearly that this is a lie. 

I will never teach my child about injustice with this notion that it won’t happen again because giving her a false sense of security means that when it inevitably does happen again, she has to spend time processing the shock before she can start taking action. The idea that this can happen again and close to home hits hard and is terrifying but it is the reality. 

 I acknowledge that this is written from a place of privilege where my child is safe and sound and I don’t have to worry about her being murdered as she eats her one meal of the day. My heart breaks for the children, the parents, and the people of Gaza.

This Mother’s Day, take time to think of the mothers of Palestine, in the past, the present and the future as they fought, continue to fight, and will have to fight for their right to live. The destruction around them and the trauma inflicted on them and their children. Take this day to think of everyone in Palestine and use your voice to tell their stories before they’re simply parts of history, whitewashed and vague.