Sitting in my flat in Nicosia, Cyprus, on the evening of Oct. 7, 2023, I watched, like so many others, in disbelief as the outside world was flooded with images of Hamas’s atrocities in Israel.

At some point, a friend sent me a video showing a group of Arabs at Finikoudes in Larnaca, singing and dancing under Palestinian flags and handing out sweets.

The bodies in Israel were not yet cold. Families had been butchered. Children had been burned alive. Women had been raped. And in my own country, some were celebrating.

I felt shame and rage. Not only because of the barbarism of the spectacle, but because it was happening in a country that had taken these people in, sheltered them, fed them, provided benefits, and offered papers, tolerance, and protection — only to be repaid with public jubilation over the murder of Jews.

I posted the video on Facebook, tagging the authorities and asking how such a disgrace had been allowed to unfold in Larnaca. The man who appeared to be leading the celebrations began threatening me in public, swearing that my “coffin will be shining”. Others of his kind joined in.

A few weeks later, I was formally informed that the authorities had reason to believe I could become the target of a criminal act.

It was already a difficult period in my life.

For months, my routine had become almost absurd in its........

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