Assalamu aleykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakaatu,
Dear sisters,
I remember a sister who was very dear to me and our last conversation, which took place before the Maghrib prayer in Baghouz… It was a day of “truce”,”cease fire” when Muslims were coming out with their families to surrender themselves to disbelievers, seeking refuge from the evil of the same people they were going to. There was nowhere left to go amidst the relentless bombardment and starvation… I was standing outside and saw a sister (a European) Umm Muhammad, whom I had known for a long time—she had been my neighbor in one of the places where we had lived in previous years… I knew her as a truly dear and kind person; anyone who knew her would love her.
We were talking while phosphorus—dropped from the warplanes of the disbelievers—was falling not far from us. My attention was drawn to the “food” she was giving the children to eat—SubhanAllah, there were five of them. The eldest was about six years old… With gaunt faces and sunken eyes, already exhausted by hunger, they waited—much like birds waiting for grain—for the wheat kernels their mother was roasting in a pan without oil; they were dry, unripe grains…
SubhanAllah, I saw so much pain in those children’s eyes that I could not bear to look at them any longer. Their mother, patient and full of hope, spoke of how she missed having a proper meal, how she missed wearing makeup… yet she spoke with such a pleasant tone and a confident belief that the day of relief was near. But what touched my heart the most were the words of hers that I still cannot forget. She told me, “I will never surrender to the disbelievers I will never leave this place to go to them. SubhanAllah—so starved and exhausted, yet possessing such strong faith and yaqeen.
Shortly thereafter, heavy gunfire broke out, and we parted ways, each heading to her own khandaq (trench shelter). Night fell… the bombardment intensified. Suddenly—I do not even know how—I fell asleep. It was Allah’s mercy… But I was awakened by screams and desperate wailing.
I heard screams: “Get out! Run! Fire…!!!” I rushed out and began running away from the flames; suddenly, I saw a brother carrying his daughter—who had just been wounded and thrown out of the khandaq by the blast. He was weeping—sobbing with a truly broken heart—while holding his daughter and calling out to the brothers nearby : ”She attained shahadah; she wanted it so much. May Allah accept her… (it was his wife)”. He repeated this several times, his voice trembling through his tears, before suddenly vanishing into the darkness along a path barely visible in the night.
That woman was Umm Muhammad, she had refused to surrender and was killed alongside her four children, starving yet steadfast. May Allah accept her…What a magnificent example of perseverance on the path of Allah she was.
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