In 1994, less than two years after I arrived in Norway, I visited the Sofis Mundi clinic in Oslo, then located in the Karl Barnsch Place area.

My mission was to install a prosthetic limb to replace the damaged and outdated one I had used since 1983. That original prosthetic, crafted in Italy, served me well for 11 years after my injury during the Sabra and Shatila massacre in September 1982.

Its creation bore the elegance of Italian artisanship and the melodies of Bongiorno Maria, Bongiorno Due, and Ciao Bella Ciao.

At Sofis Mundi, I was greeted by Pierre Björg, a tall, square-bodied, blond Norwegian with ever-present red cheeks and a warm smile. Introducing himself as the technician responsible for installing my new prosthetic limb, Pierre soon discovered my story.

Learning that I was a survivor of the Sabra and Shatila massacre, his interest in me grew, and he expressed genuine sympathy for the tragedy and horrors of the "Israeli" occupation.

Our professional relationship blossomed into a deep friendship. Pierre supported my activism and advocacy for Palestine, offering me pivotal advice that shaped my efforts:

"When you and other Palestinian victims and wounded go out into the street, you must uncover your amputated legs and hands. People here will understand you more when they see your injuries and wounds with their own eyes."

A year later, Pierre’s wisdom came to life. The enemy, with European approval, brought an Israeli bus damaged by Palestinians to Oslo's Jungstorge Square as propaganda. In response, I took to the square with others to counter their narrative.

I remembered Pierre’s words, and with the media present, I revealed my artificial leg, crafted by Pierre after my amputation caused by an Israeli Merkava tank shell in Beirut. The act shifted public perception, turning their campaign on its head.

Pierre later called to praise my courage, having seen the coverage on Norwegian news. However, he eventually relocated to Tonsberg, and we lost contact.

Years passed. A few days ago, at the new Sofis Mundi headquarters, I spoke with my current caseworker, Ronnie. Upon inquiring about Pierre, I was struck by the news: Pierre had recently passed away from a severe heart attack. His death deeply saddened me, but I took solace in knowing the legacy of his kindness and humanity.

Farewell, Pierre Björg, a good Norwegian and dear friend. Truly, good people never die.

Nidal Hamad Palestinian author and political commentator based in Oslo, Norway. For inquiries, contact [email protected].

Translated from Arabic to English by Mahmoud El-Yousseph. Originally published on Al-Safsaf website.