"رعي الله وادينا المقدس انه حرا…… روضة الفردوس اجداث ماملا

مآثر رضوان ومهبط رحمة…… أحيت من عالم الغيب ماء ملا" 

“May God bless our sacred valley, for it is free... A garden of paradise, filled with the graves of the noble.
Monuments of divine pleasure and the descent of mercy... Revived from the unseen world, full of sacred water.”

In my second year of architecture school — a school located on the western side of Jerusalem, a side almost entirely empty of Palestinians — I lived in the newly built Bezalel dormitories, constructed on parts of the historic Mamilla cemetery. From the window of my dorm room, I could see the cemetery — the only quiet, Palestinian territory nestled in the chaotic, touristic, whitewashed center of Jerusalem.

That year, along with other Palestinian students, I witnessed the construction of the Museum of Tolerance being built atop historically significant Islamic graves in Mamilla. But that wasn’t what truly moved me to act, or to call upon fellow art and architecture students to engage with the site. It was one early morning.

One of those mornings a young Palestinian Bedouin student, aged 20, might experience in a foreign place — waking up early, feeling suffocated in a poorly designed, cramped dormitory. I rushed outside in search of silence, of shade, of a place to breathe. There, I encountered the spirit of the Mamilla cemetery. It was the only space that could offer solace to us — young Palestinians trying to find our way in the heart of an occupied city. In that moment, I felt a deep intuition: this place should be cherished.

Instead of sitting apart in the school’s sterile studios, disconnected from one another and from our reality, we needed to be here. I suggested this to my fellow students — and that was the beginning of the Sada movement. We began working, documenting, and spending time in the cemetery.

Our first research initiative was led by Ahmad Yasin, a researcher from Jerusalem. Later, each participant engaged with the project through their own medium — architecture, photography, art installations, painting, product design — all centered around the cemetery.

We were generously given a space in the Old City of Jerusalem by businessman Raed Saada, where we created and reflected together. Later, we opened our first exhibition in that same space. That was the beginning of Sada’s work, guided by the conviction: as long as we study in an Israeli art institution that tries to disconnect us from our reality, we must assert ourselves as an active, integral part of Jerusalem’s society and landscape.

From there, our work and exhibitions expanded across Palestine — from the Naqab to Haifa — each year addressing a new and urgent theme.