“A consistent element of Israeli apartheid is its fragmentation of Palestinian life.”

“You see the wall over there, to the left? Behind the wall you have big towers. Those are Palestinian towers, Palestinian buildings, and most of them [are] empty; maybe you can notice that.”

I peered out the bus window as our tour guide, a Palestinian man in his 60s sporting oval glasses and a baggy button-down shirt, motioned toward the distance.

“According to the Israeli law, on paper, the area behind the wall—Qalandiya, Kafr Aqab—is still East Jerusalem, but in fact,” he explained, “they are behind the wall, and they are in the West Bank.”

It was our 4th day in Palestine, and the annexation wall, which weaves across occupied Palestine cutting its families and communities off from one another was again back in view as we traveled north from East Jerusalem to neighboring Ramallah.

A consistent element of Israeli apartheid is its fragmentation of Palestinian life. Occupied East Jerusalem falls under the authority of the Israeli military, while the West Bank is technically under jurisdiction of the Palestinian Authority. Palestinians in these adjacent areas face separate, interconnected systems of law and oppression. Kafr Aqab does not fit neatly into either jurisdiction, by design.

“There is no law here. This is why here we can see the weapons are in every house, the drugs, everywhere, crimes. Every day they are shooting at night here and even if the Palestinian Authority wants to interfere, Israel will not allow them. ‘No, no, no, no, this is East Jerusalem, don’t touch!’”

We were viewing a portion of the annexation wall that slices directly through East Jerusalem, physically annexing a section of the city to the West Bank.

In that area, technically part of East Jerusalem, the Israeli government refuses to implement any oversight of society and restricts the Palestinian Authority from governing.

“There is no law here, no law. The law starts from that sign and ahead, which is Zone A under the Palestinian Authority,” our guide explained as traffic slowed to a crawl.

“If in case it is a very serious combat, fight, between the people here, Israel gives a permit for one hour to the PA to come from Ramallah to solve the problem and go back.”

“Of course, because this is Jerusalem! You need permission to come. This is Jerusalem, the state of Israel, heh heh, according to their criteria, yes. See the towers?”

“Heh heh heh, unbelievable. It’s as if we are in New York City!” our guide began laughing to himself. “Manhattan! Hahahaha!” The laughter heightened as many of us awkwardly chimed in. Soon the whole bus was cackling in solidarity.

The towers of Kafr Aqab are dense and built to a poor standard. With no governance, safety regulations and city planning are absent. Yet, demand for housing in this area is high. Due to its ambiguous status, East Jerusalemites and West Bankers are both allowed to live here. For mixed Palestinian couples, it is the only place they can live together. Property is much cheaper in Kafr Aqab than in the rest of East Jerusalem on the other side of the wall due to the existential risk that Israel might seal the checkpoint at any moment and declare the area no longer part of East Jerusalem. Our guide believed that if an agreement is ever reached over East Jerusalem’s status, this is the section that Israel would part with in negotiations, due to its poor condition.

“We are in Kafr Aqab. Kafr Ghadab, the people call it Kafr Ghadab. You know what is al ghadab? Anger. Kafr Ghadab. Kafr in Arabic means village. The Anger Village. Because all the people are angry. They live in anger here, under stress, every minute.”

Our bus approached an archway over the street demarcating the beginning of Zone A, after which we would begin seeing landscaping and wider roads.

“So, this is the story of Kafr Aqab between Jerusalem and Ramallah.”