Overwhelmed by the sense of familiarity and personal connection Ghada Karmi's book In Search of Fatima invoked in me, I had to put it down and reflect on my own identity. I too left my country at the age of eight, leaving behind childhood memories for a foreign land. I too have had to struggle with my personal sense of identity - a Westernized Arab. But unlike Karmi, I left three decades after her flight from Qatam during the establishment of Israel in 1948.

Like the more than 750,000 Palestinians exiled from their homes, Karmi's family immigrated to London, England where she evolved from a young girl trying to fit into English society to a political activist, fighting for the right's of Palestinians. Through Karmi's sometimes painfully honest self reflection, she tells the story of Palestine, from the British Mandate and the Balfour Declaration, to the Suez crisis, the Seven Day War and the creation of the PLO. But unlike other often dry lessons in political history that take the reader on a tiresome academic journey of intellectual acrobatics, Karmi appeals to the senses - the feel of bare feet on marble floor, the smell of kerosene heaters, the taste of olives and freshly baked bread - the rhythm of her writing is at times poetic, a song in tribute to all things past, reaching beyond borders, religion and politics. She weaves a rich tapestry of Palestinian culture and identity, an identity that is constantly denied by Israel through the demolition of homes and historical buildings, appropriation of Palestinian food and the denial of the return of thousands of Palestinians evicted from their homes.

Central to this book is Fatima, a "falaha" or peasant who helped Karmi's family with housework. Fatima was left behind with the key to the house when Karmi's family fled from their home, fearing the same fate as the hundreds of innocent victims massacred by the Haganah or Israeli army. On a deeper level and through no choice of her own, Fatima has become the symbol of Palestinian resistance. We see her on the news on a daily basis - the mother wailing over the loss of her child to the Israeli military or the brave protester, defying settlers blocking the path to her olive groves.

I finished this book with a renewed sense of identity and the affirmation that the story of Palestine must be told, again and again, not only to re-affirm the past, but to also sketch out a future for an autonomous Palestinian State.