‘Ali al-Faqir, 46, described the expulsion of his family from the ‘Ein al-Meyteh community in the Jordan Valley through settler violence
My extended family and I came to ‘Ein al-Meyteh in the Hamamat al-Maleh area from the al-‘Auja area. We lived in al-Meyteh for many years and made a living from raising sheep.
Our lives were quiet and happy. This was the area where we spent the best days of our lives. It had everything needed for life, socially and economically: open grazing land and living with our extended family, side by side, in constant contact with one another. In the evenings, we would sit together. A few years ago, after much effort, a school was built near us, and our children went there. It saved them from having to go through checkpoints and dealing with the bothersome things on the way. They were right next to us, easily returned to the tents with other students from the community, and we didn’t have to worry about them anymore.
In the last three years, the settlers started encircling us and preventing us from accessing the grazing land. Their attacks became more and more frequent, and our lives filled with pain and suffering.
But in the last three years, the settlers started encircling us and preventing us from accessing the grazing land. Their attacks became more and more frequent, and our lives filled with pain and suffering. I was afraid for my family and my children, and so I decided to leave the area, together with dozens of Bedouin families who lived there with us.
All the families moved together from ‘Ein al-Meyteh and al-Burj to the Tubas area. Leaving the al-Maleh area cost us a lot of money and took a heavy emotional toll on all of us, my family and my children. Moving our belongings alone cost us more than 5,000 ILS (~ 1,645 USD), and then there was the cost of setting up the tents and structures in the new place.
I bought three dunam (1 dunam = 0.1 hectares) of land north of the village of Tayasir, as did other residents, and we put up tents and structures there, moved all our belongings and built pens for the sheep. But the settlers did not leave us alone. They followed us there too and attacked us, prevented us from grazing and even set up an outpost close to our homes. They also set fire to my relatives’ tractor, and to vehicle and three residential tents that were full of my belongings.
Even while I was moving our belongings, the settlers raided us, attacked farmers in the area, chased them and hurt them.
On 31 March 2026, at around 3:00 P.M., I came with my family to our homes in the site where we lived north of Tayasir for the last time. By then, I’d already moved my family to live a kilometer west of our home, but our belongings and the sheep remained at the site, and every day, some relatives and I went there for a few hours. That day, the settlers chased us in the pasture and wandered around the homes. We felt it was too dangerous and that we couldn’t go back there. Even while I was moving our belongings, the settlers raided us, attacked farmers in the area, chased them and hurt them.
I decided once again to leave, this time to leave the entire area. This was my third displacement. We moved to an area near the village of Raba, near Jenin, where I put up tents near where residents live, hoping to find some measure of security for my family and my children’s families, and that we’d be able to live somewhere with minimal living conditions. Now I miss the places I was uprooted from very much, and I’m agonizing over it.
We lost sheep and lambs during all these moves and many belongings too. All this caused us severe losses.
Today we don’t know, maybe the settlers will hound us in this area too. They’ve already set up an outpost between the Ibziq area and the village of Raba, on Jabal a-Salami. These settlers are hostile. They walk around the area every day, armed to the teeth, with protection from the army and the police. They chase the shepherds, attack them and prevent them from grazing the sheep. That is how our lives have become an unbearable hell.
They’ve become their own state; they graze their cows and sheep here and drive around all day in their pickup trucks everywhere.
We suffer double the damage because of the repeated moves that the settlers forced on us, and they won’t let us stay in this area either. No one is doing anything to deter them. They’ve become their own state; they graze their cows and sheep here and drive around all day in their pickup trucks everywhere, even near our tents.
We left the al-Meyteh and al-Burj areas together, as a group, for areas in Tubas. But there is agriculture there, farmers, privately owned farmland, and sheep herders can’t live in areas close to cultivated land. But where can we go? We can’t live in many of these places. Many people sold their sheep and are now left with no source of income at all. Their lives are in danger, and they suffer from the damage caused by the occupation and from the measures taken against them every day.
Now we have scattered, and the ties between the families have been cut. My extended family has also scattered. In the al-Meyteh area, we lived together, my brothers, their children and their families, my uncles and other relatives. Now everyone lives somewhere else, and the distance between us makes it hard even to visit siblings.
Everything I’ve said can’t convey more than a small part of the heartache and the mental distress caused to the families and the children. After we left, I swear the schoolchildren didn’t go to school for more than ten days. Everyone was confused; we didn’t know which school to send them to, how to get there and so on. The schools are far away, so at first we had to drive them there in our cars. Because of these difficult conditions, some parents have pulled their children out of school.
Many of us are considering selling the sheep and looking for other work, but the situation in the West Bank is difficult. There is no work, and we don’t know how to do anything other than raise sheep.
We’ve moved again and again, and now we live in areas we don’t know, near people we don’t know, and it’s hard for us to adapt to life inside villages. We are Bedouin, sheep herders, used to living in mountainous areas, far from communities, and we’re still having a hard time adjusting to the new way of life. In addition, sometimes people look at us as if we’ve taken their land, even though we pay rent or buy the right to use it.
Many of us are considering selling the sheep and looking for other work, but the situation in the West Bank is difficult. There is no work, and we don’t know how to do anything other than raise sheep. This is the profession we inherited from our fathers and grandfathers, and to this day, we don’t see any way to earn a living and live with dignity.
- Testimony given to B’Tselem field researcher ‘Aref Daraghmeh on 19 April 2026