In memory of my parents, Zakia and Shoker Z"L
When we came to Israel, in Lod, at the…airport, then she (unnamed person) had a boy aged…ten months old. And we got down from (out of) the (plane)…he was such a beautiful boy…they (unnamed people) took him. They told him (unnamed person)…
(In) July we arrived to (in) Israel. They took the boy…his name was Nahum. They took him (and) said, “(he is) sick”. They took (him)…they took him to the hospital. In Petah Tikva, I know (I assume). We were…and we went to the Beit Olim (new migrant housing) in Atlit. And they (unnamed people) didn’t know what had become of the boy. They took him…when they (the family of the boy) asked and asked…they (the people who took the boy) said to them, “(he) is sick at the hospital…in Petah Tikva.” So my mother and father went to Petah Tikva. (They were) new immigrants (to Israel). There was…an Iraqi…nurse. She said to them, “take the boy! He doesn’t have…he’s not sick. There’s nothing with him (nothing wrong with him). Take him!”. They took the boy and came to the Beit Olim. The hospital and police and this (so on) followed them, (and) came to take him again. And…afterwards…they took him from (the) Beit Olim (and) didn’t let…my father, and my uncle…and my grandfather…they didn’t let…they didn’t let them take him (the boy). But…they took him in the ambulance…forcefully. And that’s it. They took him, (and) after a few…after a few days, they said to them. “he’s dead. The boy died.” But where did they bury the boy? Where? Not (even), not, no document of…death or…a grave or nothing. That’s it…they took him and went.