27th March 2016
I urge you all to read this blog, written by a 17 year old girl, Fatima Noman, in Yemen. It will open your eyes to the incredible bravery, resilience and pride of the Yemeni people.
August 7th 2015
As I lay breathing, safe and sound. Cuddled up in my blanket hearing the birds chirping. It hits me once again, he is dead. Gone. Gone for eternity. He has bid his farewells to this cruel world.
Around a month ago I visited a few of the +9000 wounded due to the Saudi Led Coalition, at that time we were working on an Eid project, we were supposed to get each of the injured to say “Eid Mubarak”. We got the chance to hear their tragic miseries.
However, he was different, this is his story;
He was on a bus with 17 other people when the missile hit. They all perished, he was the lone survivor. He didn’t leave in one piece he lost both legs and was deeply wounded and burnt.
He was too fatigued to speak, he didn’t want to say “Eid Mubarak”. He felt like his life was futile, vain. He is burned, scarred for life. For a sin he didn’t commit.
While awaiting for him to prepare mentally and emotionally, one of the nurses mentioned the fact he doesn’t have a wheel chair. He can’t afford one.
He wasn’t able to afford a poor quality wheelchair that costed 80$. We buy handbags for that price. We go out for coffee spending that much. We told the nurse we’d buy it for him, there’s no problem in that, after all it’s just $80.
He returned to the injured man and told him, his eyes filled with tears he retrieved the long lost hope. He had faith in humanity once again. He couldn’t believe what he had heard, he finally could envisage how life would be as a disabled man. I couldn’t believe what I saw he was worried how he would stroll around rather than mourning on the loss of both legs in a blink of an eye.
He then said in a very low voice : Eid Mubarak.
I received the receipt for the wheel chair around 10 days ago, I smiled as I remembered his beautiful smile.
The days passed and a week ago as I was with my group, a girl suddenly popped in and said I have something to say, her face was free of emotions I imagined she came to ask if we’d like tea or coffee as we were at her sister’s residence. She said:
“What would you like to do with the wheelchair you bought?”
I glared at her for what seemed like eternity. She said:
“The man died today and I wanted to know what you’d like to do with it?”
Everything around me blurred and my eyes were flooding with tears, they started pouring down as I looked up to my Mom. She had been talking for the past few minutes telling me not to cry and to reminisce that he is now in a better place. But I solemnly swear it felt like I lost a part of my being. My whole life seemed unavailing. I felt numb, deaden.
All I managed to spout out was:
Does he have children, a wife?
I received no answer. No one knew.
As we drove back home, I entered my room and in front of me was the receipt I broke down yet again.
I never imagined that lives could end so easily. They can pass by unseen. The moment I think this coalition might come to an end. I thought my fervent will to avenge them was about to wear off, it rather has ignited once again.