As the sun rises over Bayt Liqya near Ramallah, Ahmed Mousa, 38, prepares to attend his first Eid prayers in 13 years — surrounded by family, friends, and neighbours. It's a moment he dreamt of through long, silent mornings in prison cells, imagining what it would feel like to walk freely among his people.

Just days ago, Mousa shared iftar with his wife Nadine and their children Shahd, 15, and Habib, 13 — his first home-cooked meal at sunset in over a decade. The final fast of Ramadan is now complete. Today, it is Eid.

Arrested in 2012 in connection with a Tel Aviv bus attack, Mousa was released earlier this year as part of a now-collapsed prisoner exchange between Israel and Hamas. His return home marks a new beginning. 

“Meals used to feel like survival,” he tells TRT World. “Now, every bite with my family is sacred. This is my first Eid at home — I still can’t believe it.”

He is one of nearly 1,800 Palestinian prisoners released between January 19 and March 1. For many, the long-awaited return home came just in time to experience Ramadan in full — and now, to celebrate Eid al-Fitr with those they love most.

But their celebrations come during one of the darkest chapters in recent Palestinian history.

Fleeting joy

As of March, the situation for Palestine remains dire. The war Israel has waged on Gaza for more than a year has killed over 50,000 Palestinians, the majority of them women and children. 

At the same time, the occupied West Bank has seen a sharp intensification of Israeli military incursions and settler violence. More than 9.500 Palestinians, including 350 children and 21 women, remain in Israeli prisons, detention centres, and military camps. Among them are those still awaiting trial, often without formal charges. 

In July 2024 Human Rights Watch documented harrowing abuses: Israeli forces circulating degrading images and videos of detained Palestinians—including children—in which detainees were forcibly stripped, humiliated, and dehumanised. International legal experts have classified these actions as war crimes.

This year’s Eid – like the one before it – is being observed under the shadow of violence. In Gaza, Israeli military assaults have resumed after a brief two-month ceasefire. In the occupied West Bank, settler violence is surging, with a monthly average of 118 documented incidents, up from 108 in 2023 – already the most violent on record.

​In January 2025, Israel launched a sweeping military offensive across the occupied West Bank, displacing over 40,000 Palestinians — the largest upheaval in the region in over five decades. At least 55 Palestinians, including five children, have been killed during this latest assault, according to the United Nations.

The sweetness of coming home

In the village of Arraba near Jenin, 50-year-old Mohammed al-Arda sits among his grandchildren beneath strings of yellow lights. Laughter floats through the air as the scent of Eid sweets fills the home he has not seen in 27 years.

Arrested in 1996, al-Arda was charged with belonging to the military wing of the Palestinian Islamic Jihad and participating in resistance operations and was also among those involved in the infamous 2021 prison escape through a tunnel operation. After decades behind bars, he is finally home.

As he gazes at the platter of ka’ak – the traditional circular biscuit covered in sugar that is baked in Eid– he shares: “In prison, Eid passed like any other day,” he says. “No ka’ak, no laughter, no gathering. I longed for this — for the warmth of family, for the joy of Eid.

“I can never go back to prison,” he adds. “I’ll accept any condition — I just want to stay here, among my people and loved ones.”

Across in Qalandiya refugee camp, which sits between Ramallah and Jerusalem, 34-year-old Ashraf Ammar is eager to help in the kitchen. “I want to make the salad today, mama,” he tells his mother with a grin.

For more than a decade Eid for Ammar was a muted affair behind steel bars. Arrested in 2015 and accused of belonging to the Fatah movement and being part of a military cell that carried out operations injuring several illegal Israeli settlers.

Despite a gaunt face and a full beard, Ammar appears almost boyish as he clings to his mother’s presence. His eyes trail her every movement, eager to help.

“I want to make the salad today, mama,” he says with a playful grin.

His mother smiles gently. “My dear, just rest. Everything will be brought to you.”

“No, this time I’ll make it, and you’ll be the one to taste it,” he tells his mother. 

Now, free at last, he’s planning to buy ingredients for ka’ak and ma’amoul. Surrounded by family, not prison walls, a freedom that makes every shared smile sweeter.

“This time,” he says, “Eid feels real.”

Freedom and rebirth

In the village of Deir Sharaf, just outside Nablus, Ashraf Nofal, 71, shuffles slowly through the courtyard of his modest home, a basket in hand. From his tree, he picks ripe oranges for his wife, Umm Assef, who will turn them into fresh juice – his first sip at iftar in 24 years.

“In prison, we drank juice loaded with sugar from an Israeli company called Topozina,” he says. “Nothing like this.”

Arrested in 2001 and sentenced to 40 years, Nofal never thought he’d see these trees again. Freed in the 2011 Wafa al-Ahrar (Gilad Shalit) exchange, he was later re-arrested and held until the 2025 exchange, accused of organising Al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades affiliates and participating in military operations.

“In prison, time was hollow. You fill it with prayer, reading the Qur’an.  I would finish it five times during Ramadan, simply to occupy the hours.”

Now free, he chuckled at the changes: “We used to sit cross-legged on the floor around a small table. Umm Assef — she’s either wiser or older now — won’t sit on the floor anymore. We have a proper table and chairs.”

This Eid al-Fitr Nofal feels deeply grateful to be with his loved ones. He knows this holiday is a time to reconnect with family and celebrate life after years of hardship.

Umm Assef promises him: “Sit down. I’ll make you the best orange juice you’ve ever tasted.”

A new beginning

In the crowded lanes of the Jalazone refugee camp, northeast of Ramallah, Mohammad Nakhleh, 37,  is adjusting to freedom. After two decades he is finally home for Eid. 

Nakhla was arrested in 2006 and sentenced to 28 years in prison. He spent 19 years in captivity, accused of being a member of the Al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades.

His mother, who waited all that time, says: “Twenty years, and every Ramadan felt incomplete. Thirty-seven Eids passed, and Mohammad wasn’t here.”

From their modest home, Nakhleh shares: “Freedom feels like a new birth. No one can understand it the way we do.”

This Eid al-Fitr, he is embracing a renewed sense of hope and optimism, reminded that love and family are their most precious treasures. 

“Every gathering is a fresh start,” he says. “This Eid is a testament to what we’ve endured, and a hope for what’s coming.”

This article is published in collaboration with Egab.