“They handed out blankets teeming with lice and smallpox, diseases the body didn’t know how to fight against,” Kit explains. “They raped the women. Then they changed the history of it.” It reminds Mazna of Zakaria, of his mother and Palestine. He’d told her that his family was from Jaffa, that sometimes his mother whispered the name. If she forgot it, she would die. Kit’s aunts do the same thing, call the land by the old names, teach them to the children.
