It was a hot summer night when I and my friends went out to the wedding party of one of my friends' sisters. As usual, we, the six girls, went together to the hall where about 1,000 ladies stood on their feet since the hall's capacity was only 500.
Amid non-stop applause and whistling, It was difficult to see the groom and the bride in the overcrowded lounge. A nearby woman talked to another in wonder: "I can’t believe my eyes… how did they marry?! The bride's family turned down his (the groom) proposing six times, but he hadn't given up until he married her."
When the place turned to a ballroom after the men had left, I stood up and stretched out my neck to understand what that lady had meant to tell. Oh Yes! The woman was right! The groom was black and the bride was brunette. I would never have believed this if somebody else told me about; not because of anything rather than that this happens in Gaza where old habits and customs bound the community.
Their marriage was a result of an extraordinary innocent love story that none of the girls here would have accepted to plunge in with a black guy.
The women, engaged in the party, were clapping; some were supporting the idea and others despised the family of the groom.
I recalled a situation in which a black man had proposed to our neighbors' blonde girl. Not only her family had rejected him, they made mockery of him, humiliated him and kicked out his parents from their home. Things ended when the man's family called police to stop the girl's violent good-by ceremony.
How beautiful is seeing two couples happy despite the difference in their colors. These rotten, human-made differences and rules that a difference in the skin is a reason to block marriage are breaking away. The black man is also a human being as well.
I thought about the couple; they had struggled to marry and challenged many opponents. They believe that challenging the outdated habits starts with a brave step.