Where do I begin?
What do I say?
Two years and ten months old.
dressed in his new clothes
At dinner with his family at the Serena.
Music fills the room.
It was New Year’s eve.
Teasing his siblings.
Waiters hustling and bustling.
Men enter, pistols in hand
“Not my children” screams his mother
That horrible sound
Madar. His eyes open
Just a memory — nothing more.
His tiny body so fragile
Where am I?
Faces. But not madar’s kind, loving face.
They call him.
2 years, 10 months.
5 bullet holes
The nation, the world. Crying. Praying.
Abuzar, we are with you.
A nation’s hero.
At what cost?
At what price?
Father. Mother. Siblings.
A sweet memory.
I just wanted to write bout that little boy who stole my heart. I wanted to keep it brief..
As a mother, I longed to hold him. To tell him he’s loved. It will be okay. It will be okay.
As the story unfolded and Abuzar’s photos filled Facebook and Twitter. I
became more attached to this child. I felt an obligation to make sure he was okay.
I realised I was not alone. So many men and women felt the same. We all wanted to reach out.
A few days had passed and I felt a little better and not as emotional when seeing his pictures. I followed his progress online wishing I was in kabul.
Watching the NBC report on Abuzar shattered every fibre of my being. Luckily my husband and my tot weren’t home. I watched the report and I heard him cry. Such a sorrowful cry. I broke. i cried. I cried and I cried. How dare they shoot at a child from such close range? Animals!
Now, the internet is filled with pictures of him and videos of him playing with his cousin. Smiling. Giggling.
A beautiful little soul. He has stolen our hearts.
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