About the Book
Samir is a young Palestinian photojournalist who lives and works among the ruins of Gaza, documenting the war and the resilience of its people. Every day he faces mortal danger, yet his mission is clear: to tell the truth of a city torn apart by bombardments, where life and death intertwine in a fragile balance. Amid dust, destruction, and courage, Samir meets a boy left completely alone. Between them grows a deep bond of trust and hope. Every photograph he takes becomes a powerful testimony, an act of resistance, a gesture of courage that speaks louder than a thousand words.
When the sacrifice of Yusuf, the boy's young mentor and protector, marks a tragic turning point, Samir must continue the mission alone. His final shot captures a glimmer of hope among the rubble, transforming pain into memory and courage into a universal message.
Samir - The Last Shot is an intense and moving novel-a story of courage, friendship, and testimony that celebrates the strength of memory and the power of truth, proving that even in the darkest moments, the light of humanity can shine and reach the entire world.
The sun struggled to pierce through the clouds of dust that rose endlessly from the ruined streets of Gaza. Samir moved cautiously among the debris, the weight of his camera on his shoulders a constant reminder of his mission. Every step was a fragile dance over shattered bricks and broken glass, evidence of the violence that had struck the city day after day. Silence was broken only by distant explosions, the wailing of sirens, and the moans of the survivors.
Samir stopped in front of what remained of a marketplace. The stalls were skeletal, charred, and ruined; rotting, dusty fruits lay among the rubble and ashes. Instinctively, he raised his camera and took a shot. Each photo was for him a testimony, an act of resistance against oblivion. There was no time for hesitation; any photograph could be his last, yet Samir felt a deep need to capture every detail, every fragment of life that still persisted amidst the ruins.
As he moved forward, a small figure appeared among the rubble. A boy, no older than twelve, with wide, frightened eyes, dirty with dust and tears. Samir recognized him immediately: the same child he had encountered weeks before, when he had found him alone, searching for food among the destroyed houses. Fear was evident in the boy's eyes, but there was also a glimmer of hope, an invisible thread connecting the child to him.
"Hello..." Samir said gently, careful not to startle him. The boy hesitated, then stepped forward, clutching a dirty, torn doll. Samir lowered his camera and knelt down. "You're not alone. I'm here."
The boy nodded faintly, and for a moment, amidst the ruins and smoke, it seemed the world had paused. Samir studied the boy closely, noticing how every movement was measured, as if a wrong step could cost him his life. War had taught everyone to move cautiously, to breathe carefully. Yet despite the fear, there was something extraordinary in those eyes: an inner strength that defied bombs, death, and destruction.
In the following days, Samir and the boy spent a great deal of time together. The boy silently followed him as he photographed empty streets, bombed-out buildings, and people trying to piece their lives back together. Samir called him Yusuf, though he didn't know his real name. It was a simple, easy-to-remember name, symbolizing protection and hope for him.
Each photograph became a story, a visual memory of what was happening in Gaza. Samir captured the exhaustion of doctors working tirelessly, the despair of parents searching for their children amid the rubble, and the courage of those who, despite everything, continued to live. Yusuf watched closely, learning to recognize beauty amid destruction, and gradually, a silent but profound bond formed between them.
