Khalilah Christina Sabra | Akateeminen Kirjakauppa

Most children come into life, initially at least, with a degree of trust that they are going to be treated fairly. The way a social order kills that sense of trust is often cumulative, overt and consciously executed. Within such a situation it is likely that, once becoming a man (or woman), he will not develop an instinctive inhibition about killing his co-species. One will commit such an act upon a group or individual with whom he has no sense of identity and with whom there is no empathy or conscious feeling of guilt relating to their destruction. It is an uncomfortable revelation and a hideous result of social deconstruction. Such is the case Jenna Hayat, a young woman Palestinian woman. A limping soul navigating through a dismal passage of existence, Israeli occupation is a septic wound in her heart that can't be healed, and being Palestinian is like being punished for a crime she hasn't committed. She is not hell-bent revolutionary; she is not a feminist or a nationalist, and she is not a psychopath with a death wish. She is just an ordinary young woman, trapped amid savaged inequalities. Jenna once remarked to a close friend that life was so long when you are not happy. Hers was very unhappy. Her mother succumbs to cancer, she is not permitted to marry the only man she ever loved, and she feels herself alone in is world in which there is no mercy. A martyrdom mission makes perfect sense in a life such as hers and longevity is inconsequential. Jenna makes a final and far-reaching decision, which is to look for her mercy from God instead of mere mortal men.