Fatma Hassona, the Palestinian Protagonist of Cannes-Bound ‘Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk,’ Killed in Israeli Missile Strike

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Fatma Hassona, the central character in Sepideh Farsi’s “Put Your Soul on Your Hand and Walk“, which was chosen for Cannes’ ACID program, sadly lost her life along with her family when an Israeli missile struck their building, as reported by the ACID team to EbMaster.

The team stated that her smile was as captivating as her determination: observing, documenting Gaza through photography, providing food amidst explosions, grieving and enduring hunger. We listened to her tale, delighted at every encounter with her, we worried for her,” said the statement.

Originally, we screened a movie where this young woman’s vitality appeared almost miraculous. However, we will no longer back or showcase this film in any theater, starting with Cannes. As filmmakers and viewers, it is our responsibility to be deserving of her radiance.

Sepideh Farsi, the Iranian director of the film, also wrote about the tragic event:  

“Maybe I’m ushering in my death

now

Before the person standing in front of me loads

His elite sniper’s rifle

And it ends

And I end.

Silence. 

Fatma Hassona, often called Fatem by her friends, spoke these words from a long poem titled ‘The Man Who Wore His Eyes.’ The poem has a strong scent of sulfur and death, yet it is teeming with life, much like Fatem herself was until this morning. However, an Israeli bomb tragically claimed not only Fatma’s life but also the lives of her entire family, leaving their home in ruins.

Hassona, who was based in Gaza, had turned 25.  

I met her through a friend from Palestine, who I encountered in Cairo, during a time when I was urgently trying to find a route to Gaza. My curiosity was piqued by a question that seemed both straightforward and intricate: How do people manage to live in Gaza, given it’s been under siege for so long? What is the typical day-to-day existence of Palestinians amidst conflict? Why does Israel appear determined to obliterate something significant within this small patch of land using bombs and missiles?

Previously, Farsi made the animated feature “The Siren” about the war between Iraq and Iran.  

She expressed a desire to understand how the people of Gaza coped with such events, curious about their experiences. The accounts given by the news and media weren’t providing her with the answers she sought. Instead, she yearned to hear their stories directly, free from any filter. Her wish was to be present in Gaza itself.

While she couldn’t travel there, she filmed their conversations. 

Therefore, Fatem served as my eyes in Gaza, while I became a window to the world. I captured moments through our video calls, preserving the vibrancy and intensity that Fatem shared. I recorded her laughter, her sorrow, her aspirations, and her lows. Guided by instinct, I was unaware of where these images would take us. Such is the magic of cinema, such is the beauty of life.

In the movie, Fatem shared her identity as a Palestinian from Gaza, expressing pride and resilience. “I’m proud of who I am,” she said. “They may try to suppress us, no matter what actions they take, but we stand strong because we have nothing left to lose.

Each day, I contemplated the Palestinians residing beyond Gaza, separated from their loved ones, and I pondered how they managed to endure such distress. Regrettably, I couldn’t find a solution for that predicament either. I tried to reassure myself that I had no reason to worry if she herself didn’t fear. Instead, I found solace in her resilience, in her unwavering faith.

Initially, I harbored doubts when the truce was declared in December. However, considering the Palestinians and Fatem believed in it, I decided not to doubt its authenticity either. Surprisingly, I managed to reach her just two days ago, and she picked up. I wanted to share with her that her film had been chosen by ACID and would be screened at Cannes.

Farsi recalled their conversation: 

– “So… will you come present the film with me?

As a passionate cinephile, I’d gladly embark on this journey, provided I can revisit the heart of Gaza afterwards. The powers that be wish for our departure, seeking to seize our lands and homes. Yet, we shall remain steadfast.

– Aren’t you scared something will happen to you?

– Of course, you’re right. Nothing on Earth lasts perpetually, not even this conflict. It too shall come to an end someday.

or

– Absolutely, everything has its lifespan here on Earth, including this war. It will eventually end.

or

– Yes, indeed. Not a single thing stays forever on our planet, and that includes this war. It’ll eventually be over.

At first, she refused to believe the news, thinking it was a mistake.

Similar to my reaction a few months back, when another family sharing the same last name met tragedy in an Israeli attack. I was astounded, so I phoned her, messaged her, then sent yet another message. I am aware that Fatem won’t respond anymore, that I will never cross paths with her brothers again, nor her sister Alaa, a talented painter who was carrying a six-month-old baby, nor her father, a taxi driver who had been confined at home since the start of the Israeli offensive. All these vibrant lives were extinguished by a single press on a button that released a bomb to obliterate another household.

The following statement from Farsi clarifies there’s no room for further debate: The events unfolding in Gaza today do not represent a response to the crimes Hamas allegedly committed on October 7. Instead, they constitute genocide. I hold those responsible and their allies accountable, and demand justice for Fatem and every innocent Palestinian who has perished.

She ended, again, with a poem: 

“Are you a fish?

I did not answer when the sea asked me

I didn’t know where these crows came from

And pounced on my flesh

Would it have seemed logical?

-If I said: Yes-

Let these crows pounce

at the end

On a fish!

She crossed

And I did not cross

My death crossed me

And a sharp sniper bullet

I became an angel

For a city.

Huge

Bigger than my dreams

Bigger than this city.”

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2025-04-17 18:17