By Maria Butler, Executive Director, NWI
Earlier this month, I joined a group of peacebuilders led by Nobel Peace Prize laureates Jody Williams, Tawakkol Karman, and Shirin Ebadi travelling to Jordan and the Occupied Palestinian Territory. The delegation, organized by the Nobel Women’s Initiative, brought together women activists, human rights defenders, and organizations committed to justice.
We came to bear witness to and stand in solidarity with women and communities living under occupation, and to amplify their voices and calls for justice, dignity, and peace.
Advocacy Coordinator, Dildar Kaya and Executive Director, Maria Butler
Each day of this journey brought us face-to-face with the everyday realities of militarized violence and apartheid, and with the courage and resilience of those who continue to resist it.
What follows is a reflection on one day - April 8 - in the West Bank, Palestine.
I stood in the village of Al-Mughayir, near Ramallah in the West Bank, just hours after the IDF had killed a 14-year-old Palestinian-American boy named Omar. As we passed, his funeral was underway. He had been shot eleven times by Israeli soldiers the day before. In that moment, the harsh reality of apartheid was undeniable—a system built to dominate and dehumanize, where the killing of a child is not an aberration but part of a cruel and ongoing pattern. In recent months, hundreds of Palestinians have been killed across the West Bank.
Jody Williams in the West Bank
Due to Israeli restrictions on access, only a small group from the delegation was able to join this part of the trip. Our group included Nobel Peace Prize laureate Jody Williams; Joyce Ajlouny, General Secretary of the American Friends Service Committee; Kifaya Khraim, International Advocacy Officer at the Women’s Centre for Legal Aid and Counseling (WCLAC) and other colleagues from our partners WCLAC; Dildar Kaya and Rawan Yousef from NWI's staff, and local activists.
We met with members of the village council who told us how, since October 7, 2023, they now have access to only 5% of their own land.
Let me repeat that: only 5% of their own land.
While we sat with them, more villagers trickled in, some of whom had just received demolition orders for their homes that morning. A single sheet of paper in a plastic sleeve. The dispossession is relentless. It is part of a systematic attempt to erase entire communities, their histories, and their futures.
Later, we met Salma* a beekeeper, a widow, a grandmother, a survivor. Two years ago, settlers attacked and destroyed her bee colonies. She managed to get a few new hives, and keeps them hidden in a forest to keep them safe. As we drank coffee in her home, she told us quietly that her son had just been released from prison after four years, imprisoned on baseless accusations. When she saw him again, she cried. He had lost half his body weight.
Then we met Dalia*. She’s 19. She just finished high school and dreams of studying journalism. She was shot in the leg by a settler.
“We were between the olive trees,” she told us. “A settler was on the roof. We heard a loud shot.”
At first, she didn’t realize she’d been hit. She was still standing, still holding stones. Then she saw the blood. She will never forget this day; the two bullets remain in her legs to this day.
Her calm, steady voice, her insistence on telling her story in her own words, was unforgettable. We cried. We promised to help her get to university.
Maria Butler, Jody Williams and Dildar Kaya meeting local people in the West Bank
Despite a general strike across the West Bank in protest of the genocide in Gaza, we were able to meet with former detainees and young women at the Women’s Centre for Legal Aid and Counselling (WCLAC). They spoke of organizing under extraordinary pressure. Joining us remotely, Nobel Peace Prize laureates Oleksandra Matviichuk and Tawakkol Karman shared powerful messages of transnational solidarity. Jody Williams was in the room, listening deeply. This moment of connection—of feminist solidarity across borders—carried enormous emotional and political weight.
On the road back from Ramallah to Jerusalem, we were stopped at checkpoints. Young men were being detained, and made to lie face down on the ground. One checkpoint blocked our way completely. We had to take another route.
This is not just inconvenience—it’s control. It’s violence by another name.
Joyce Ajlouny, General Secretary of AFSC, and Jody Williams in the West Bank
This was only one day. The next day we returned to Amman to begin the next phase of the delegation. But this day—this place—will stay with us. The grief, the grace, the unbearable injustice. The food, the olive trees, the extraordinary hospitality. And the incredible resilience. The voices of Dalia* and Salma*, and the strength of the women resisting with everything they have.
We must continue to listen, and to speak out against the killings, the apartheid system, and the illegal occupation, and stand in active solidarity with those who resist these injustices.
I want to recognize the courageous women we met, our partners at WCLAC, and so many others, who are at the forefront: documenting, advocating, organizing, supporting their communities, and refusing to be silenced.
* Names have been changed to protect the safety and privacy of those we met. In an environment of ongoing surveillance, intimidation, and violence, anonymity is a necessary act of protection. The stories shared here are real. The courage behind them is undeniable.
Photos of the delegation are by Mariam Shahin and Ayman Abu Ramouz. A selection of the whole delegation is available here.