23rd December 1990

He couldn’t shake off that very moment when the Iraqis barged into their home. And he couldn’t comprehend how Ali tackled that, and why. Ahmed remembered it clearly like it happened yesterday.

Ali demanded they let go of their mother, of course, but then he offered his hands in exchange. Ahmed blurted out his rejection for what Ali had done, and his mother did the same, followed by their streaming tears.

“It’s the only way,” Ali insisted.

Ahmed remembered how his throat thickened as he saw that fatherly love again in Ali’s eyes. He couldn’t comprehend how Ali smiled in that situation and told Ahmed: “You’re the man of the house now. Take care of her for me.” Before he was pushed into the van.

The house fell silent ever since.

Ahmed walked down the hallway towards his mother’s bedroom and knocked on the door. He opened it after he received an answer.

His mother was on the prayer mat, facing the corner of her room. She was still in her Mehram, her prayer cloak, and her hands were open like a book and raised mid-air.

“Salam (Peace).” He leaned on the door.

“Wa Alaikum Asalam (And Peace Be Upon You),” she returned the greeting. “You woke early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you pray Fajr (Dawn)?” she asked gently.

He nodded. “I’m going to the store; do you need anything?”

“No thank you, I’ll only ask for your safety,” she answered.

He said the Salam again and turned around.

“O’ Allah keep my sons from all harm and evil. O’ Allah bring my son Ali home safe and sound.”

He heard her voice crack when she made that Du’a (Call/Prayer to God). Then he walked away.

Ahmed went out the front door and looked at the dark starless sky above him; it was slowly beginning to brighten. And he hurried to his destination. He planned on being the first to get the things he needed so he could leave quickly. He couldn’t bear to wait in a queue.

He kept glancing over his shoulder and scanned the dark empty streets lit by a few streetlights. The wintery air crept all over his skin, and his body jumped from the sudden goosebumps.

He arrived at the store, and as he expected, he was the first and got his necessities. The familiar soldier from before spotted Ahmed, and he drew a subtle sneer as he clicked his tongue. Ahmed ignored him and left.

Before he went home though, he decided to visit someone first.

~~~

Ahmed took a deep yet shivering breath when he arrived at the place. The lifeless soiled land stretched far and wide. With the sun’s early arrival, he managed to see the rows of grey stones that filled this earth.

He walked through one of the rows and reached to a stone he recognised and stood in front of it.

“Asalam Alaikum (Peace Be Upon You),” that was the only formal greeting he could think of. “I… I’m sure you’re doing well up there. But… I’m not sure if you can hear me. I… I just need to talk to someone.” Ahmed rubbed his arm as he looked down at the imprinted words.

“I know I’m supposed to speak with the divine, but I wanted to visit you and…” he bit his lip as he clutched his hand and raised his shoulders.

“I miss you, Dad. Mom and Ali miss you too. I wish you were still here… But another part of me thinks the opposite. I know I sound… Bad when I say it but… Alhamdulillah (Thank God) you left early. So, you wouldn’t go through what we’re going.” Ahmed shivered as his tears began to rain.

“It’s getting worse. They’re getting worse to the point that… that now these soldiers are soulless! They’ve murdered Kuwait! They took her and murdered her! And now they took Ali away, too!” Ahmed dropped to his knees and hugged himself. Words weren’t enough. His wails were enough.

~~~

Ahmed arrived home. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw something on their front gate. He approached it and got a closer look.

It was a large blanket with vintage floral designs on it, and it was covering something underneath.

Ahmed’s hand hovered over it for a moment before he uncovered it. His eyes widened, and his pupils shrunk to dots.

“Ali?” Ahmed shook it gently. “Alhamdulillah (Thank God), Ali! You’re back— Y-You’re finally back! Come on Ali, wake up— You should’ve knocked on the door, Mom was in there.” He kept shaking it.

“Wake up, come on, wake up! You can’t sleep outside it’s freezing!” Ahmed’s vision turned into a blur. Then he heard a gasp.

His head jerked up and saw his mother standing at the gate; she wore her black Abaya over her head, but some strands of her dark hair escaped her black headscarf that wasn’t worn properly—as she was in a hurry. Her hand was on her mouth, and her eyes were shimmering by what she saw in Ahmed’s arms. 

“Mom! Ali’s back! But he won’t wake up. Can you try and wake him? He’ll open his eyes when he’ll hear your voice, like he always does.” Ahmed drew a wavering smile as he felt the salty waters stream down his cheeks.

His mother dropped to her knees and held Ali in her arms.

“Hasbi Allah Wa Na’ama Alwakeel! (God suffices me, and He is the best disposer of affairs)!” she screamed the words repeatedly at the top of her lungs.