Martyrdom Wedding in Our House

Everyone attended the wedding of the martyr. We used to partake in all the martyrs’ weddings in our village. All congratulate the martyr’s family and identify with his mother, who is weeping silently. His father, who praises God with words wet with tears of joy as his son has reached sublimity.

We share them in receiving their martyrs and scattering roses and rice, accompanying the funeral cortege until it reaches the village cemetery where we bid farewell to the body of the martyr.

According to our customs, the martyr’s family, his friends and neighbors go every day throughout the week to recite the Fatiha (opening chapter) for him. Every Thursday his family goes to the cemetery and put flowers and herbs at his tomb.

Today, the martyr wedding is in our house. “Allaa” left us two years ago and did not come back again. He was vacationing with us in the village when he was informed that his comrades were besieged in Al-Raqqa. He decided to curtail his vacation and join his friends. He left us saying to me : “Mom, pray for us. I don’t know if I will see you again so please mother forgive me and be sure that I’ll not let you down. Now I realize more than ever how much I love my country and so I must protect it”.

He always spoke of his readiness for martyrdom,” his mother said proudly.

Two weeks later we were informed that “Allaa” was kidnapped by Jabhat Al-Nusra . Since then our trip of agony and suffering has begun. We spared no effort to know his whereabouts but in vain. Several weeks later, the terrorists phoned his father telling him that they want Syp.10 millions if he wants to free his son. When my husband told them that we are very poor and we will not be able to get the money even if we sell ourselves. They didn’t phone us again and we didn’t hear any news about him. You cannot imagine how excruciating my days and nights were. I was dreaming that he will come back again and let me take him in my arms but all my dreams vanished into thin air when his comrades told us that he was martyred and that they would not be able to bring his body to us,” the words stopped on her lips with bitter pain and heartbreak.

We celebrated the absent hero just as other people do to their martyrs, but we did not sow rice and roses or even spray water at his tomb.

“We will not enjoy his company every Thursday anymore. There will be no place where we would meet him and tell him our news or touch the dirt that covers his tomb to alleviate our pain and yearning, “she continued with great sorrow.

 The bereaved father and mother have received a deluge of condolence words expressing great pride in their son’s martyrdom, but they could not manage to hide their grief because they will not visit him every week, spray water or lay wreath of flowers at his tomb.

 I feel their sadness, I can’t wipe away their tears. I don’t know what to say, I wish I can share their wrenching pain, but unfortunately, I cannot.

 Hidar, his older brother, said:” We will never forget him. He will live in our hearts, minds, souls and eyes. His living memories motivate us to continue living to cleanse Syria from terrorism. I want to say to those terrorists, Syria will never kneel down, surrender nor subjugated. your terrorism has deepened our cohesion and responsibility towards our beloved country. You will be hunt down and killed like stray dogs by our Syrian army”, Hidar said firmly. 

Amal Farhat- Homs