In the days of old, the world was safe': West Bank family's enduring unity

In the days of old, the world was safe': West Bank family's enduring unity

Briefly

"The metal door of the Masallam family home still bears the dents from a settler's axe. Inside, the smell of freshly made cheese hangs beneath a stone-domed ceiling. Mattresses line the circular room, spread across carpets on the hard floor. Prayer beads hang from nails beside the damaged door. On this particular evening, about 20 people are arranged in a circle four generations of Masallams, plus relatives and a couple of friends as young children pass small glasses of mint tea around the cosy den."

"Hajja Latifa, 66, adjusts her white hijab and sits up slightly, her back curved from decades of crouching to milk sheep and goats. She looks around the circle at her stepchildren, step-grandchildren, and step-great-grandchildren for a moment before speaking. In the days of old, the world was safe, she says quietly. That was before her husband was killed. Before the arson. Before the kidnappings. Before the beatings and theft and loss of livelihood. Before the Israeli settlers came."

"In all, 15 people live across three single-room homes on the family compound, though relatives and friends come most evenings for tea, arghila and conversation, swelling the circle further. The compound is bound by a stone wall, with an open courtyard at its centre where the women wash clothes, make cheese and gather by a fire at night when it is not too cold. Nayef, 52, the stepson of Hajja Latifa, sleeps with his sons in the old stone house, built more than a century ago."