Another Ramadan is nearly here.
Another year of unified fasting.
Another year to work on upgrading
oneself to a status deserving of
Creator's Most Perfect Love which is
routinely given without sufficient
reciprocity.
Perhaps, the ninth lunar month of
Ramadan is most known for its
demand upon observers to postpone
habits and blessings we take for granted,
and shun vices that are best for us to
always avoid. In doing so for an entire
month, we will hopefully absorb enough
knowledge and develop enough empathy
that will help us grow as human beings
and remember to offer a humanitarian
hand to others throughout the year-
and years to come.
Non-Muslims (and many Muslims, too)
tend to view or approach this sacred
month with almost a sense of gloom,
anticipating losses (at will eating,
drinking, and intimacy) rather than
gains (elevated spirituality and connec-
tion with The One, or a heightened
sense of brotherhood/sisterhood with
local and international Muslims).
I always like to hear the excitement
of young people as Ramadan approaches.
They are usually giddier about the
impending days-long 'Iyd at the end
and the gifts that accompany it than
fasting, per se, but they seem to greet
the month more heart happy, which I
like. That may have a lot to do with
their being able to hang at the masjid
well into the night, or even stay overnight.
Sometimes after mandatory worship
or between voluntary ones they will sit
outside talking and catching up, playing
basketball, or a number of other pastimes
that encourage bonding.
This time of year, especially, brings to
mind a Ramadan six years ago when
a group of Muslim teens were doing
exactly that. People were staying at the
masjid overnight in observance of
Laylatul Qadr (The Night of Power) which
falls on one of the odd nights during
the last ten of Ramadan. No one really
knows exactly which night it is so each is
spent in prayer, reflection, and comradery.
In 2017, Ramadan started at the tail
end of May and lasted for three days
shy of a full month. During the wee
hours of Sunday June 18 in Sterling,
Virginia the temperature was pleasant
and in the low seventies. Sometime
around 3:30 am fifteen or so friends
decided to leave the ADAMS Center to
walk to a nearby fast food restaurant
for food to eat before beginning the
day's fast at 4:09.
I recently visited the center for an
Islamic conference. It was bright,
inviting, and its sense of community was
palpable. As an outsider, I felt a very
happy and festive energy that made
me briefly wonder how difficult it would
be to relocate from Pennsylvania so
my family and I could become members.
My visit was in frigid January yet the
place was packed with delightful con-
gregants nonetheless. I can only imagine
what excitement charged the air on a
warm weekend in Ramadan a week
before 'Iyd. The teens must have been
elated and loving life before the
unthinkable happened less than an hour
later.
I will be honest in stating that though
it has been years and know none of the
people involved personally, it is still quite
hard for me to fathom what occurred. I
have reacquainted myself with the case
through multiple newspaper articles in
order to write this post so I am further
traumatized by the facts- on top of what
I have been dealing with in my own life
pertaining to crime against an innocent
loved one. Therefore, I will not be going
into details, allowing readers to peruse
the links that detail the horror.
To summarize, on the way back for
prayer the teens got into what seems
to have been a small altercation with
a motorist who was just a few years
older than them. One of the friends
argued with the driver then threw a
cup of soda at his car. He in turn drove
the vehicle towards the group then
jumped out and chased them with an
aluminum baseball bat. They all took
off running.
Growing up in the city, having seen
and been included in scenarios very
much like this many times in my youth,
I can almost hear the mischievous
hooting and laughing that the youngsters
possibly exhibited from doing something
risqué. Again, the bat-welder was young
like them. He, too, they likely ascertained,
was just as harmless as them. They
would make it back the center, wash for
and perform the morning prayer, than
reminisce through giggles and reenactments
what had gone down. I am so sorry to say
that is not how the story ended.
During the adrenaline-filled getaway
one of the friends fell behind. Articles
say Nabra Hassanen, a 17-year-old
well-liked high schooler who had
recently completed her sophomore year
tripped, falling to the ground. The batter
came upon her and brutally attacked.
The links below will explain important
information further. Suffice to say, the
young Nabra lost her life that early
morning, in a most vicious manner.
The killer was apprehended and has
since been sentenced to life in prison.
I cannot imagine how horrified those
last moments of Nabra's life must have
been. Likewise, I cannot imagine how
her parents get to sleep at night, or
how they have coped and managed to
go on in life. Unfortunately, I am now a
forced member of the group of depressed
parents who have had our precious,
innocent babies savagely snatched
from us. Without warning. Without the
opportunity to save them nor offer our
own lives for theirs. I am dumbfounded
by how they all have not died of sadness.
I am envious and unsure if I am made
of the same stuff of which they are
fashioned.
Time will tell.
In the interim I will remember to
keep sweet Nabra and in my duas,
asking Allah to shower her with
Divine Mercy, and to allow the misery
and oppression I am sure her parents
are plagued with- despite the necessity
for them to continue this physical
journey without her- to free them
of any sins or punishment for short-
comings on that Day (Amin). I ask
that you remember them, too.
M.
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