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He died… right in front of my own eyes… I saw him go… I was looking at him… His face was opposite the Kiblah… And so was his right hand… It was reaching towards the house of Allah… His eyes were open… But there was no life in them… their blackness pulled me inside them… and I had a total blackout… All I could see now was his tiny body on the white mattress… And his eyes… A weird feeling occupied my whole body… And I knew my life would never be the same
They told me not to go… They asked me to stay in the playroom… They begged me not to see him… But I had to see him… And the moment I looked at him, I knew he was already gone… Doctors and nurses were all around him… Someone was performing CPR… I knew it was all wrong; he was doing it in the wrong way… I shouted, the CPR is wrong… I know it because I am certified as a First Aid and BLS (Basic Life Support) Provider… It is wrong… No one listened… I shouted again… Someone heard me and went to tell the head doctor… the doctor shouted and asked me not to interfere with the work of the professionals… But I know it is wrong… I know it is
His heartbeats were very slow… They could hardly be heard… But they gave him an injection that took his life… And then they tried to rescue him, with their wrong CPR performance… I stood there… Watching… People coming in… People going out… A nurse was shouting, asking us to go out… I could not move… I saw him… Dead… Lying down there… His innocent face… His innocent eyes, once full of childish dreams, now they do not speak anymore… I tried to read them, to believe he is still alive… He is still breathing… He is still dreaming… Maybe he is now thinking of his brothers back home… Maybe he is thinking of the childish games he would play with them as soon as he is back… But no… He was dead… His eyes were blank
They pulled me out… By the hand… They forced me to leave… I stood outside… And waited for my friend to come… I knew he was dead, but I couldn’t believe it… How could he be gone in such a tragic way? He was killed… His innocent soul was slaughtered… His childish dreams were beaten to death… I stood outside… I could hear nothing… I could only see his eyes, and his tiny hand reaching towards Allah… My friend came out… She looked at me with watery eyes… “He is dead,” she said… I backed up… I looked at my other friend, she was behind me… I said, “He is gone”… I went slowly to my room… Dragging my feet… Slowly… One step at a time… and everything flashed again before me… His tiny body, naked, on the white bed… The doctors… The nurses… The other parents… I saw the head doctor, who killed him, talking to his uncle… He told him that the hope is very tiny… He might not survive… But he is already dead… They killed him
I went on… I passed in front of a room… and saw his dad… He was sitting there, with a blank look… He looked at me… His eyes were begging… His eyes were hurt, but he was not crying… He looked like he wanted to cry, but yet; he looked like he wanted to laugh… He looked like the child was someone else’s… Like he was not his own… But his aging eyes were hurt… and his heart was broken, but he was trying not to believe it… He brought his own child to take his medication… They were going to go back home in a couple of hours… His boy was all right… He was fine… Despite the tiredness that was showing on his face, he thought his kid OK… Despite the vomiting that has been happening for the last two days, he thought his kid was OK… Despite the weakness, he thought his kid was OK… It is not his fault that he is ignorant… He has been born in such an ignorant society… But his eyes were begging me to tell him it is all a dream… His white beard was quivering… He wanted to go back home with his kid, alive, at his side… But now, all he will take is a corpse of what used to be his sick son… But I could do nothing to help him believe
I just went on… Continued walking… Dragging my feet… his picture occupying my memory… His lips… His eyes… His body… His eyes… His hand… Hid eyes… His look… His eyes… Those blank, dead eyes… Dead, dead, dead
I opened my room… A kid was behind me, “Are you going to open, already?”… I shouted, “NO, I am not… Go away”… I locked the door behind me… and I just sat there… my friend knocked on the door… I opened it… “He is dead”… “I know”… “They killed him”… “I know”… a blank look… a blank stare… She sat… I looked at Her… Someone else walked in… Then another… I could not help it… I started shouting… Screaming… Yelling… Crying… Crying so hard
“THAT’S NOT THE WAY CPR IS PERFORMED… THEY SHOULD’VE LISTENED TO ME… HE IS BUT AN INNOCENT CHILD… HE SHOULDN’T BE DEAD… THEY KILLED HIM… THE RATIO IS FIVE COMPRESSIONS TO ONE BREATH… THEY WERE GIVING HIM THREE COMPRESSIONS TO ONE BREATH… THEY WERE PUSHING HIS CHEST TOO MUCH… THEY KILLED HIM… THEY WANTED HIM TO DIE”
I cried and cried… I couldn’t stop myself… I called home… and asked for my driver to come and pick me up… People were coming… People were going… People told me that the security guy is worried about me… He has been worried since the start and he begged me not to go in… He was sending people to check on me… I do not remember who they were… I do not remember what they wanted, or what they said… I do not remember a thing… My supervisors came… They asked me to calm down… One of them asked me to bring my certificate on Saturday to show it to the murderer, the head doctor… I went to check on my car… I saw my sister’s friend… “Mishael, what is wrong??”… “They killed him, he is dead”… Come here… She hugged me and asked me what was wrong and what I was ****bering about… I cried… She took me to my room again… I was shouting, “My car is here, I want to go home… I want to see my mom… I want to hug her”… She insisted I go in and tell her what happened… I did… then I went home
They called my mom and told her what happened before I got home, so she would not be shocked to see me in that state… I got home… I went to my room and locked myself… My mom knocked and asked to come in… I opened; she was smiling, “What is wrong?”… “They killed him”… I hugged my mom… I cried like I never cried before… I talked, but she understood nothing… I was crying too hard… I looked at my mother’s eyes, she was crying… “It is all my fault, I shouldn’t have agreed on you working in such a place”… “No, mom, I am glad I am working there… This will all make me stronger, make me tougher… This’s all a lesson in life”… she left
Now, the question is, WHAT IS LIFE?… This whole thing made me realize that life is so silly; it is not worth a tear… But I can not stop crying… It has been a day now… but I can not forget his blank eyes… I know it is Allah’s will… and I have no objection to His will… I know he is better off dead than living in a place where he would be throwing up for two days and no one would care and no one would take him to the hospital… I know that he is better off dead than living in a place where sheep are more important for a father than his son’s health… and though his father realized his mistake, it was too late… the price was his son’s life… He is gone
Help me define life… Please do… Help me… How many times have I prayed ever since he died??? I lost count… But I can’t forget his blank eyes… His dead eyes… his reach towards the almighty Allah… Was he looking at his place in heaven and just at that instant, his soul left his body and he was gone? Was he really alive, somewhere else, smiling to the angels?… Life is such a ridiculous thing, that it is not worth wasting our time fooling around and running after our fantasies… Now, tell me… What is life? Help me to know… To forget
…Thank You
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"A Lesson in Life"
Young children, suffering from pain
They knock on all the doors
With their tiny fists
But all the doors are shut tight
And there’s no way out
Even their tears are kept locked inside
Too young to suffer
Too young to experience pain
Too young to tell you how they feel
They look at you with their weary eyes
Their eyes tell a story filled with hurt
Filled with a throbbing ache
But yet; they’re brave
Braver than you; braver than me
Braver than all of us grown ups
They go about with needles in their hands
Needles are piercing their tiny hearts
But they do not object
And they do not complain
They play and talk
They laugh and cooperate
And although some are depressed
They do not try to reveal it
They just keep it
And go about
Telling you about the great will
Of the Almighty God
Who has a purpose for everything
And thanking Him for what they have
And for what they lost
They’re closer to Him
Than all of us together
They taught me a lesson
That no one could teach me
A lesson about life
And how it can treat me
And how I should smile
And forget my worries
For there’s always a God
Who would mend my injuries
And to them I owe
My love and dedication
For they are the souls
Who need all my compassion
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في ذكرى محمد
