Insha’Allah.
I used to believe that Allah would favor his people. That was before the infidel invasion. Before we were driven from what we believed were the Holy Mosques. Perhaps I was wrong to follow Fahd and his quixotic Hajj. Allah had certainly shown that Mecca and Medina were not worthy of protection from the infidels…we therefore set off to search for the Holy City promised. Yet as our wanderings continued southward, I began to doubt. Allah forgive me, but I even chastised Fahd for his deceit to the infidel rulers of Kenya.
Even now, however, I can’t think of my last interaction with Fahd without shame. We had just been defeated at Nyampanda. Our force was utterly routed. Thousands were dead and the rest scattered. Fahd himself had been wounded in the fight. I promised him I would rally the troops, but I think he knew the truth. He could see it in my eyes, the look of a coward who was looking for an excuse to surrender. He took my hand, and said calmy… “Insha-Allah. Go my brother. I will see you in paradise.” I told him that Allah would surely grant us victory, but I lied. Perhaps Allah is punishing me for my lack of faith.
If the South African’s who captured me are to be believed, Fahd retreated to Changara and stopped by the river. A South African patrol found the dwindling camp in the evening. Fahd called a last war council in order to decide the course of action for the upcoming battle. Should they escape to the hills or stay and make a stand. The council was unanimous in favor of fighting to the death. During the attack, Fahd suffered a stomach wound, and he retreated with his aide and a few officers to the river. Unable to walk, the small party carried him to the stream and left him on the pretext of getting reinforcements. Six South African soldiers approached him, calling for his surrender and guaranteeing his life. Fahd refused, shouting, “I die with my nation!” He was shot in the back as he attempted to crawl.
For my part, I believe that such a death is beneath such a great man. Allah himself will have spirited him away, and our nation will once again rise. I, however, will not be able to see such glory. I have dishonored myself and my nation. I can only hope that Allah will reward my shame with a quick death.
Insha’Allah.
I used to believe that Allah would favor his people. That was before the infidel invasion. Before we were driven from what we believed were the Holy Mosques. Perhaps I was wrong to follow Fahd and his quixotic Hajj. Allah had certainly shown that Mecca and Medina were not worthy of protection from the infidels…we therefore set off to search for the Holy City promised. Yet as our wanderings continued southward, I began to doubt. Allah forgive me, but I even chastised Fahd for his deceit to the infidel rulers of Kenya.
Even now, however, I can’t think of my last interaction with Fahd without shame. We had just been defeated at Nyampanda. Our force was utterly routed. Thousands were dead and the rest scattered. Fahd himself had been wounded in the fight. I promised him I would rally the troops, but I think he knew the truth. He could see it in my eyes, the look of a coward who was looking for an excuse to surrender. He took my hand, and said calmy… “Insha-Allah. Go my brother. I will see you in paradise.” I told him that Allah would surely grant us victory, but I lied. Perhaps Allah is punishing me for my lack of faith.
If the South African’s who captured me are to be believed, Fahd retreated to Changara and stopped by the river. A South African patrol found the dwindling camp in the evening. Fahd called a last war council in order to decide the course of action for the upcoming battle. Should they escape to the hills or stay and make a stand. The council was unanimous in favor of fighting to the death. During the attack, Fahd suffered a stomach wound, and he retreated with his aide and a few officers to the river. Unable to walk, the small party carried him to the stream and left him on the pretext of getting reinforcements. Six South African soldiers approached him, calling for his surrender and guaranteeing his life. Fahd refused, shouting, “I die with my nation!” He was shot in the back as he attempted to crawl.
For my part, I believe that such a death is beneath such a great man. Allah himself will have spirited him away, and our nation will once again rise. I, however, will not be able to see such glory. I have dishonored myself and my nation. I can only hope that Allah will reward my shame with a quick death.
Insha’Allah.