I don't feel like writing this post, but at the same time, I want to record this history down for my daughters and myself to remember.
They killed Bilal on Thursday, April 19, 2007. His body was found today, Saturday, April 21, 2007. He was shot in his arms, chest and head. He is our martyr. May God accept him.
We're worn out by our tears and sadness. But what I'm feeling is nothing compared to what his poor mother is living through now and what she will face the rest of her days.
She was very patient when I spoke to her today. But she hasn't seen him yet. Tomorrow they will cleanse him and bury him next to his grandfather. Tomorrow she will see him. But she will have closure, alhamdulillah.
His younger sister sounded so different on the phone, I didn't recognize her. His older sister cried and told me, "He was the best of youth. He truly was a man whose heart was attached to the masjid. He truly is a youth who grew up fee ta'at illah."
At night, his mom told my sister in law, "I miss him so much. Khattiyya, he's there (in the morgue) by himself. I miss him. I just want to hold him and kiss him and kiss him." Aaaakkhh, Khalei.
My husband made me cry and cry. When you hear a man quiet, sobered with pent up tears, you cry.
There's so much to say. But I can't concentrate now. Remember him in your prayers, always. I will remember you in my prayers, always, ya Bilal. Our Bilal. Our martyr.