When I think back to my childhood in Pardes Hanna, I remember my beloved mother, Romia, an innocent, modest woman who worked hard all her life and until the day she died had to grapple with a mystery, a wound that never healed: the story of the daughter she carried in her womb but never had a chance to hug or get to know. Our family story is similar to that of many other Jews who came to Israel from Yemen, other Arab countries, and the Balkan states, who have claimed for years that a child was taken from them while receiving medical treatment. Back then, in the 1960s, my mother, Romia Jarafi, a new immigrant from Yemen, went to the Hillel Yaffe Hospital in Hadera to give birth to her sixth child, my older sister. Shortly after the birth, doctors came into her room and told her the baby had not survived. My mother refused to believe the terrible news and asked to see the baby's body, but the doctors replied coldly that the baby had died and she needed to accept that. "She was taken for an autopsy," the doctors said, and instructed my mother to go home. They did not let her see her daughter's body, she never received a death certificate, and the day-old infant was never laid to rest. My mother, who arrived at the hospital with a life in her womb, left the hospital with empty hands and a painful story that would stay with her for the rest of her life. My older brother fell ill, died and was buried when he was 11 months old. Only a decade ago, we discovered that he did not have just one grave, but that there were in fact two identical graves in the Pardes Hanna cemetery that bore the name "Zion Jarafi." That raised many questions that even now remain unanswered. Recently, the family wound was reopened, and it's painful and bleeding. After years of denial, I find myself wondering, could my sister and possibly even my brother still exist somewhere in the world, without my knowing them? Maybe they live close by. Many times as I've been walking down the street I've asked myself, could that woman passing by be my sister? During the special Knesset discussion held on Tuesday, we realized how much fogginess there is surrounding the affair of the children of Yemen. The criminals who tore children way from their mothers and told bold lies about it apparently took care to protect themselves, so the stories of the children of Yemen will only be exposed in 2071. All the investigative material collected for years, the protocols and the testimonies, are being held by the state archivist, who is eager to release them but is prohibited by law from doing so. We demand that the government release the material, and I'm certain that this time we will expose what really happened there and give the families historic justice. I'm not looking to blame anyone and I'm not looking for revenge. I just want some peace for my spirit and to know the truth, even if it's bitter.
Nava Boker is a Knesset member for the Likud party.
Could my brother and sister be here?
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