To My People, Never Yield: The last will of Yahya Sinwar
I am Yahya Sinwar and this is my will
I am Yahya, the son of the refugee who turned exile into a temporary homeland, and turned the dream into an eternal battle.
As I write these words, I recall every moment that has passed in my life: from my childhood in the alleys, to the long years of imprisonment, to every drop of blood that was shed on the soil of this land.
I was born in Khan Yunis camp in 1962, at a time when Palestine was a torn memory and forgotten maps on the tables of politicians.
I am the man who wove his life between fire and ashes, and realized early on that life under occupation means nothing but permanent imprisonment.
I knew from a young age that life in this land is not ordinary, and that whoever is born here must carry in his heart an unbreakable weapon, and realise that the road to freedom is long.
My will to you begins here, from that child who threw the first stone at the occupier, and who learned that stones are the first words we utter in the face of the world that stands silently in front of our wound.
I learned in the streets of Gaza that a person is not measured by the years of his life, but by what he gives to his country.
And that was my life: prisons and battles, pain and hope.
I entered prison for the first time in 1988, and I was sentenced to life imprisonment, but I did not know the way to fear.
In those dark cells, I saw in every wall a window to the distant horizon, and in every bar a light illuminating the path to freedom.
In prison, I learned that patience is not just a virtue, but a weapon.. a bitter weapon, like someone who drinks the sea drop by drop.
My advice to you: Do not fear prisons, for they are only part of our long path to freedom.
Prison taught me that freedom is not just a stolen right, but an idea born from pain and refined by patience.
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When I was released in the “Wafa al-Ahrar” deal in 2011, I did not leave as I was; I left stronger and my faith increased that what we are doing is not just a passing struggle, but rather our destiny that we carry until the last drop of our blood.
My advice is that you remain committed to the gun, to the dignity that is not compromised, and to the dream that never dies.
The enemy wants us to abandon the resistance, to turn our cause into an endless negotiation..
But I tell you: Do not negotiate what is rightfully yours.
They fear your steadfastness more than they fear your weapons.
Resistance is not just a weapon that we carry, but rather it is our love for Palestine in every breath we take, it is our will to remain, despite the siege and aggression.
My advice is that you remain loyal to the blood of the martyrs, to those who departed and left us this path full of thorns.
They are the ones who paved the path of freedom for us with their blood, so do not waste those sacrifices in the calculations of politicians and the games of diplomacy.
We are here to complete what the first ones started, and we will not deviate from this path no matter what it costs us.
Gaza was and will remain the capital of steadfastness, and the heart of Palestine that never stops beating, even if the earth becomes too narrow for us.
When I took over the leadership of Hamas in Gaza in 2017, it was not just a transfer of power, but rather a continuation of a resistance that began with stones and continued with guns.
Every day, I felt the pain of my people under siege, and I knew that every step we took toward freedom came at a price.
But I tell you: the price of surrender is much greater.
Therefore, hold on to the land as a root holds on to the soil, for no wind can uproot a people who have decided to live.
In the Battle of the Flood of Al-Aqsa, I was not the leader of a group or movement, but rather the voice of every Palestinian who dreams of liberation.
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I was led by my belief that resistance is not just a choice, but a duty.
I wanted this battle to be a new page in the book of Palestinian struggle, where the factions would unite and everyone would stand in one trench against an enemy that had never differentiated between a child and an old man, or between a stone and a tree.
The Flood of Al-Aqsa was a battle of souls before bodies, and of will before weapons.
What I left behind is not a personal legacy, but a collective legacy, for every Palestinian who dreamed of freedom, for every mother who carried her son on her shoulder as a martyr, for every father who cried bitterly over his daughter who was assassinated by a treacherous bullet.
My last will and testament is that you always remember that resistance is not in vain, and it is not just a bullet fired, but rather a life that we live with honor and dignity.
Prison and siege taught me that the battle is long, and that the road is difficult, but I also learned that peoples who refuse to surrender create their own miracles with their own hands.
Do not expect the world to do you justice, for I have lived and witnessed how the world remains silent in the face of our pain.
Do not expect justice, but do justice.
Carry the dream of Palestine in your hearts, and make every wound a weapon, and every tear a source of hope.
This is my will and testament: Do not surrender your weapons, do not throw away your stones, do not forget your martyrs, and do not compromise on a dream that is your right.
We are here to stay, in our land, in our hearts, and in the future of our children.
I entrust you with Palestine, the land I loved to death, and the dream I carried on my shoulders like an unbending mountain.
If I fall, do not fall with me, but carry for me a banner that has never fallen, and make my blood a bridge for a generation to cross that is born from our ashes stronger.
Do not forget that the homeland is not a story to be told, but rather a reality to be lived, and in every martyr a thousand resistance fighters are born from the womb of this land.
If the flood returns and I am not among you, know that I was the first drop in the waves of freedom, and that I lived to see you complete the journey.
Be a thorn in their throat, a flood that knows no retreat, and will not calm down until the world acknowledges that we are the owners of the right, and that we are not numbers in the news bulletins.
May ALLAH honour the martyrs, Aameen.
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