Bilal, my brother, is a martyr. Words are not enough to express my condolences to you, my beloved, or even to mention a small part of your virtues. To God we belong and to Him we shall return. The eye sheds tears, the heart grieves, and we are truly saddened by your departure, Bilal. I am deeply saddened to inform you about the devastating loss of my brother Belal, the founder and CEO of Press House-Palestine. Belal has been killed in an Israeli tank shell today. Accompanied by my brother-in-law Abdulkareem Abed, a well-respected pharmacist whose fate is still unknown, Belal was heading towards the south of Gaza where Israel ordered civilians to flee. Belal was very determined to stay in Gaza City for over a month and strongly believed it was his moral duty to tell the world what he witnessed in the besieged small city, assisting the needy people around him amid this humanitarian catastrophe. Nothing stopped Belal’s to achieve his major project: establishing the EU-funded Press-house foundation to sponsor and support all independent freelance journalists who found a workspace at this place. He spared no efforts to protect them, arranging all of them safety courses, providing them with protective gear, and securing financial assistance for those facing difficult economic situations.
As his youngest brother, Belal was the first person I would resort to, to relieve my pain. He is the man who would always be with me on thick and thin.
I used to call him “the supporter in the difficult situations” and my brother Mohammed was referring to him as “the pillar of our family.”
My dear brother, I still remember when you were taking me along with you every Ramadan to hand out aid to all poor people in our old neighborhood. I would not forget how much humble you were though you had a very high rank in the society and among all NGOS figures in Gaza, welcoming everyone knocking on your door to seek help. I cannot forget when you took me with you a few months ago to one of the autism foundations in Gaza, listening to their needs to secure enough fund for them through internationally recoginzed organizations. I am not able to attend your burial or kiss your forehead as we are not allowed to move northward.
Despite all this agony I am going through, I still console myself with what you told us this early morning: “I finally made my mind to come to the south and stay with you. I am comfortable as I saw in my dream last night that I was performing Haj in Mecca.”
I am sure you are dwelling in paradise my dear brother!

بلال أخي شهيد. لا تكفي الكلمات كي أرثيك يا حبيبي أو حتى اذكر جزءا يسيرا من مناقبك. إنا لله وانا اليه راجعون. ان العين لتدمع وان القلب ليحزن وانا على فراقك يا بلال لمحزونون.
I am deeply saddened to inform you about the devastating loss of my brother Belal, the founder and CEO of Press House-Palestine. Belal has been killed in an Israeli tank shell today. Accompanied by my brother in law Abdulkareem Abed, a well-respected pharmacist whose fate is still unknown, Belal was heading towards south of Gaza where Israel ordered civilians to flee. Belal was very determined to stay in Gaza City for over a month and strongly believed it was his moral duty to tell the world what he witnesses in the besieged small city, assisting the needy people around him amid this humanitarian catastrophe.
Nothing stopped Belal’s to achieve his major project: establishing the EU-funded Press-house foundation to sponsor and support all independent freelance journalists who found a workspace at this place. He spared no efforts to protect them, arranging all of them safety courses, providing them with protective gear, and securing financial assistance for those facing difficult economic situations.
As his youngest brother, Belal was the first person I would resort to, to relieve my pain. He is the man who would be always with me on thick and thin.
I used to call him "the supporter at the difficult situations" and my brother Mohammed was referring to him as "the pillar of our family".
My dear brother, I still remember when you were taking me along with you every Ramadan to hand out aid to all poor people in our old neighborhood. I would not forget how much humble you were though you had a very high rank in the society and among all NGOS figures in Gaza, welcoming everyone knocking your door to seek help. I cannot forget when you took me with you few months ago to one of the autism foundations in Gaza, listening to their needs to secure enough fund for them through internationally recoginzed organizations. I am not able to attend your burial or kiss your forehead as we are not allowed to move northward.
Despite all this agony I am going through, I still console myself with what you told us this early morning: "I finally made my mind to come to the south and stay with you. I am comfortable as I saw in my dream last night that I was performing Haj in Mecca."
I am sure you are dwelling in paradise my dear brother!