Ruba* 31, is a Save the Children staff member in the West Bank, in the occupied Palestinian territory. On Mothers’ Day 2026, she was travelling with her two-month-old daughter to visit her mother when her car was violently attacked by Israeli settlers.
Many months have passed since Mother's Day, but the horror I witnessed that day has left me in shock, and I haven't been able to talk about it until now.
In my small family, the tradition of celebrating Mother’s Day has always begun with my father taking my younger brother and me to buy gifts, before we surprise my mum. However, this year, I became a mother myself, and my baby daughter Sarah* was only two months old as my first Mother’s Day approached.
I was still figuring out what it means to be a mother, and though sleep deprived and worried about what we may face on the road, I decided to take the risk of honouring my family tradition and see my mother. My mum lives in Ramallah, while we were in Nablus staying with my in-laws. The commute between the two places should only take an hour, but I knew it would most probably take closer to two.
I knew we could face brutality and inhumane treatment at the Israeli checkpoints, and I knew we risked getting terrorised by state-backed Israeli settlers on the road. I knew the risks of taking my baby out between the cities... but I also knew I didn’t want to let them take away any more joy from my family or my baby.
In any crisis, children are always the most at risk. Helps us reach children quickly with the essentials they need to survive.
I put Sarah in her car seat; the first in a long list of safety procedures I would be taking to keep her safe. I checked all the social channels; nothing seemed dangerous. We planned a route that would avoid military operations, traffic jams caused by checkpoints, and areas where settlers might be engaging in violence.
However, very soon, while driving on this supposedly safe route, an Israeli settler drove in front of us and parked her car in front of us at a junction. From a distance, we could see Israeli soldiers and police; they asked her to move her car, she didn’t.
At the same moment, masked settlers with guns, pepper spray, and sticks joined her, surrounding our car, and started attacking us.
They broke the lights, the wipers, the mirrors, and everything else that they could. They attempted to break the glass, but they couldn’t. They tried to burn the gas tank, but they couldn’t. They attempted to break into the car, but they couldn’t.
All the blows were coming from my daughter’s side of the car, but she was still asleep.
I remember my dad saying, “do not look scared”. But I wasn’t. I was angry. Almost everyone I love was in this car.
I covered my sleeping baby and thought, if she wakes up, she shouldn’t see what was happening. Her two-month- old brain shouldn’t have to carry these terrible memories.
The soldiers and police were doing nothing to stop the settlers. They were shouting at my husband to move the car while settlers were throwing themselves under the car.
My husband couldn’t move the car, knowing that if any one of those settlers got a scratch on them, the soldiers would shower us with bullets. I thought of my baby in her car seat. If the worst happened, I wouldn’t have enough time to unlock her and run away with her. After a while, the soldiers allowed us to turn around, and we drove away.
When we got to Ramallah, via a different route, I was so shaken.
I needed to take my baby home. We didn’t celebrate, we didn’t exchange gifts and we didn’t surprise my mum.
I thought of what could have been but wasn’t. I thought of our choice to not move the car; to not engage with them - to only watch as they destroyed our car.
To accept the possibility of them hurting us or worse, if we did anything else. I see this in the children and families we work with, at Save the Children. So many Palestinians choose to endure brutality and discrimination rather than risk a worse fate – they choose to exist in this reality, even bring children to this world, even hope to celebrate Mother’s Day with them.
In the West Bank, the speed and severity of which Israeli authorities and settlers are attempting to erase the Palestinian existence is chilling. It’s not news that those settlers that attacked my family, and the occupation that enabled their existence, are both unlawful.
But lawfulness doesn’t matter when you are taking the blows, and when states are not taking the action, they’re obligated to take to stop the violence.
There is no ambiguity in international law. The International Court of Justice was clear: Israel’s occupation of the occupied Palestinian territory must end.
The international community must act and stop Israeli authorities, forces and settlers from denying Palestinian children of their childhood.
As long as Palestinian children and their families cannot safely celebrate Mother’s Day, the international community is failing in its most basic duty to protect human life and dignity.
