Our Struggles

A thick cloud of smoke hung over the atmosphere, polluting the lungs of those people whose lives were spared. Her demolished home, the fallen bricks, debris, shards of glass, destroyed furniture surrounded her. The mutilated bodies of men, women and children stuck beneath rubble, the screams and shouts of those who were still alive, yet had lost limbs or worse parents,spouses and children. The sight of injured people being carried away from the dilapidated buildings, fathers running with children who had been injured beyond recognition, mothers mourning over the loss of another child, women being ripped off their purity, men tortured before their very eyes.

The sound of her barefeet upon the dust covered earth fleeing from the horror. Clad only in a long dress and scarf, with no place for refuge, no food nor drink, no family nor friends. The look of desperation, suffering and torture on the face of each person she met. The thirst, the starvation, the fear of death everyday.

Unaisa recalled every single detail clearly even though fifteen years had passed. She was only ten when she fled her home land, all alone, with only Allah Ta'allah as her guide, her helper, her protecter, yet still fifteen years later the loss of her family, the pain and the traumatic encounters remained fresh in her mind.

She lowered her head onto the ground, sparkling tears ran down her cheeks, her heart cried out to her Lord.
In the dead of the night when the rest of mankind enjoyed their slumber, she asked Allah Ta'alah to help the oppressed all over the world.