“In front of me is an Israeli soldier. He’s my height, my build, my age. He has a gun pointed towards me, and we’re staring into each other’s eyes. I’m thinking, what have you done to be on that side? And what have I done to be on this side? It was like looking into a mirror that reflects the complete opposite of who you are.”
This was the moment 24-year-old Australian Abubakir Rafiq came face-to-face with the force that would illegally intercept his humanitarian mission. As the first Australian Muslim to join the Global Sumud Flotilla, he embarked on a journey to break the suffocating siege on Gaza. What followed was a harrowing ordeal of courage, illegal captivity, and unshakable faith.
In this exclusive account based on his interview with OnePath Network, we uncover Abubakir’s story from the motivation that drove him to the sea, to the brotherhood he found on board, and the brutal reality of five days inside an Israeli prison. This is a story of resilience, resistance, and hope that every seeker of justice needs to hear.
The Driving Force: Why I Joined the Gaza Freedom Flotilla
For many, activism is a choice. For Abubakir Rafiq, it felt like a necessity. A 24-year-old marketing professional and content creator from southwest Sydney, his passion for the Palestinian cause is deeply personal and rooted in a sense of ultimate accountability.
A Question of Accountability
When asked what pushed him to join such a high-stakes mission, his answer was clear and profound:
“It always boils down to me thinking about the Day of Judgment and standing in front of Allah, who will ask, ‘What have you done for the Palestinian cause?’ I am so scared that I’ll stand there and say, ‘I didn’t do anything.’ That fear keeps me going.”
With only 72 hours’ notice, he booked a flight to Barcelona, leaving behind his work and family. He did so with the full blessing of his parents, who tearfully expressed their pride in his decision to take direct action.
A Sea of Solidarity in Spain
Upon arriving in Barcelona, Abubakir was immediately struck by the overwhelming support for Palestine. The city was a canvas of solidarity.
- Palestinian flags hung from balconies.
- Stickers and graffiti adorned the streets.
- Tens of thousands of local Spaniards marched in protest.
“When we set sail, it was another level,” he recalls. “A minimum of 100,000 to 200,000 people were wrapping around the entire port. People brought their little boats to ride with us. You could feel they wanted to be on that boat with you.”
This powerful send-off underscored the global nature of the movement and fortified the resolve of everyone on board.
Life on the Waves: Brotherhood and a Blue Rubber Duck
The Gaza Freedom Flotilla is a non-violent humanitarian mission, and life aboard the vessel was a unique mix of rigorous training, communal living, and profound bonding.
Before setting sail, all participants undergo extensive training in non-violent resistance, preparing them for the high-pressure situations they are likely to face. The crew itself was a diverse coalition of global citizens.
Onboard, you’ll find
- Doctors
- Journalists and content creators
- Members of Parliament
- Seasoned activists from 46 different countries
This diversity is strategic, designed to draw attention from all corners of the world and keep the global focus on Gaza.
One memory, in particular, stood out to Abubakir. A young Palestinian girl in Barcelona approached a participant and handed her a blue rubber ducky. “When you reach Gaza, give this to my friends,” she said. That small toy became a powerful symbol for the crew, a tangible reminder of the children they were sailing for.
Responding to the Critics: ‘This Isn’t for Clout’
Critics have attempted to dismiss the flotilla as a “publicity stunt.” Abubakir’s response is firm.
“If I wanted views, I could make videos from the comfort of my home. I wouldn’t put my life on the line. Many people on this mission have dedicated their whole lives to Palestine and don’t even have social media. We are here because it’s the right thing to do.”
So Close, You Could Feel It: Hope on the Horizon
As the flotilla drew nearer to Gaza, the atmosphere on the boat shifted. There was a palpable sense of anticipation and hope.
“I could genuinely feel it,” Abubakir says, his voice thick with emotion. “It was almost like Gaza’s heart pulsating through the ocean. The waves were moving because of Gaza. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel its presence. We were only 24 hours away.”
This optimism was a conscious choice a necessary mindset for a mission where the odds are stacked against you. The goal was never to get halfway; the intention was always to break the siege.
The Interception: A Crime in International Water
At around 9:00 PM, approximately 70 nautical miles from Gaza’s shore, their hope was violently interrupted. In the darkness of international waters, the Israeli navy struck.
“The Israeli vessels moved like snakes in the water with their lights off,” Abubakir describes. “Suddenly, bright lights flooded our boat, and we saw lasers from their guns pointed at our heads.”
Dozens of heavily armed IDF soldiers, their faces obscured by masks, stormed the vessel. This act of aggression in international waters is a clear violation of maritime law, effectively transforming a peaceful mission into a kidnapping at sea.
The Stare-Down
Forced into a narrow corridor, Abubakir found himself face-to-face with a soldier his own age and build. Recalling the advice from his brothers back home “Don’t be scared of them” he met the soldier’s gaze.
“For ten minutes, we stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. He had a gun pointed at me, but I refused to look away until he did. And eventually, he looked away.”
Degraded and Abused at Ashdod Port
The activists were held on the deck of their own hijacked boat for 16 hours without adequate food or water before being taken to Ashdod Port. There, the humiliation intensified.
- They were forced to remove any item resembling Palestinian solidarity, including their Keffiyehs.
- Abubakir was bent over, his arms twisted behind his back, and thrown onto the hot asphalt, where he was forced to stay on his elbows and knees for an hour.
- Female activists had their hijabs ripped off.
- The soldiers spat on participants and took selfies with them as trophies.
Five Days in an Israeli Prison: A Test of Faith
The ordeal was far from over. After being processed, strip-searched, and interrogated, Abubakir was thrown into the Israeli prison system.
Intimidation and Threats
During one interrogation, a large officer loomed over him, making a chilling threat. After Abubakir stated that Israel was committing genocide, the officer slammed his hand on the table, leaned in, and said with a predatory look, “I’m going to have a lot of fun with you in prison.”
“My first reaction was, this guy is going to rape me,” Abubakir admits. “I’ve never had that feeling before, but in that moment, I felt he was going to assault me in prison.”
Finding ‘Allah’ in a Prison Van
Thrown into a pitch-black police van, terrified and overwhelmed, Abubakir saw a glimmer of hope. When a light flickered on, he saw that a previous Palestinian prisoner had engraved the word “Allah” into the wall.
“It was a reminder that Allah was with me and I shouldn’t be scared. This just reminds you who the Palestinian people are. Even without their presence, they are still teaching us.” – Abubakir Rafiq
Resistance Behind Bars
In prison, the activists found their voice. They banged on doors, chanting “Free Palestine” and “You’re the baby killer.” The guards retaliated with psychological warfare, setting up TVs to play the October 7th footage on a loop. They denied medication to diabetics and sanitary pads to women.
Despite the abuse, faith remained a source of strength. When one brother began calling the Adhan (call to prayer) loudly, guards tried to silence him. In response, all the Muslim prisoners joined in, their voices echoing through the cells in a powerful act of defiance.
A Legacy of Resistance: A Generational Fight for Palestine
For Abubakir, this fight is inherited. In 1948, his grandfather left his family to fight for Palestine during the Nakba. In 1968, his uncle did the same. And in 2024, his mother hugged him goodbye as he embarked on the same journey.
“This is a generational struggle,” he says. “People have been fighting for liberation well before October 7th. We will continue our fight, and if my son or grandson has to continue, then so be it.”
A Message to Gaza: “We’re Coming Back”
Though they were physically stopped, the flotilla achieved countless victories. It reignited global attention, demonstrated unwavering solidarity, and sent a clear message to the people of Gaza that they are not forgotten.
When asked what his message is to the people of Gaza, Abubakir’s resolve is absolute:
“We’re coming back. We’re going to bring more boats, and we will break this siege eventually. The people of the world will never accept genocide, and we will do whatever we can to bring an end to the oppression.”
What You Can Do Now
Abubakir Rafiq’s story is a testament to the power of conviction in the face of brutal oppression. While he has been released, 10,000 Palestinians, including hundreds of children, remain in Israeli prisons, facing torture and abuse. The fight for a free Palestine is far from over.
As Abubakir emphasises, no one is too young or too powerless to make a difference. “If the youth in Gaza are calling out to the world,” he says, “it’s the youth of the world that needs to answer that call.”
Here are actionable steps you can take today:
Educate & Amplify: Share this story and other Palestinian narratives on your social media platforms. Counter the mainstream media silence.
Support the Movement: Donate to organisations like the Freedom Flotilla Coalition that engage in direct action and advocacy.
Advocate Locally: Write to your elected officials and demand they condemn the illegal blockade of Gaza and Israeli war crimes.
Join the BDS Movement: Participate in the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement to apply economic pressure on Israel.
Abubakir’s journey proves that one person’s courage can inspire a global movement. Now, it’s our turn to continue the work.