The streets of Israel were alive with the sound of shouting and screaming

 

 As I watched the news flash across my television screen, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The streets of Israel were alive with the sound of shouting and screaming. Police in riot gear had surrounded a group of Eritrean asylum seekers who had fled their war-torn country in search of safety and security.

I watched in horror as the officers charged towards the group, their batons held high. The Eritreans were huddled together, fear etched on their faces. The air was thick with tension and anger.

As the officers drew closer, a young Eritrean man stepped forward, his hands held up in surrender. But it was too late. The police were already upon him, their batons raining down with savage force. He crumpled to the ground, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead.

I felt a sickening sense of despair wash over me. How could this be happening? In a world where we are supposed to stand together in solidarity, how can we turn a blind eye to the suffering of those who are most vulnerable?

I felt the tears streaming down my face as I watched the police continue their brutal assault. But amidst the chaos, I could hear the voices of hope. Voices raised in protest and anger, calling for justice and equality for all.

In that moment, I knew that I too had a responsibility. A responsibility to speak out against this injustice and to fight for the rights of those who are oppressed. We may be small, but we are strong. And with the power of our voices, we can create a world where no one is left behind.