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Mother of the Martyrs – A Tearful Story (A true story)

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#1 [Permalink] Posted on 25th November 2006 18:20

Translated by: Umm Hazbar Al-Mouwahidah

May Allah have mercy on your sons oh mother.
Umm Ash-Shuhadaa and memories of Falujjah........
Finally,the group "*****" stumbled upon the Hajja "Z.M" also known as Mother ofthe Martyrs who has become well-known for what she did in the SecondWar of Falujjah.
After a long twomonth search for her, there was no one left whom we didn't ask aboutUmm Ash-Shuhada', and who's replies were either that she disappeared,or she had died, or that she had traveled to a village close toFalujjah to see her daughter.
UmmAsh-Shuhadaa', 62 years old and mother of three sons - Ahmed, Muheeband Umar - all of whom were martyred in the Second War of Falujjah.
Shelives by herself in a small house in Falujjah and spends her timesweating away - despite her age - making brooms to sell to the localsand making only enough to keep her going. She refused all help offeredto her by the merchants and rich of Falujjah. She is known in Falujjahto be of those whom their dua is accepted and because of this you finddaily people coming to her to ask her to make dua for them. Mostly ofthem are women who are about to give birth, or those intending totravel, or those sick and even some men of the insurgency. They come toher before every operation, asking her to make dua that Allah guidestheir shots and protects them.
Weentered her small home and she was mending some brooms in the garden,surrounded from all sides by green palm tree branches and fivechickens, which she was raising in the courtyard of her small house.
So we entered the house:
"Assalamu Alaikum, Oh Aunt!"
"Walaikum Assalam Warahmatullaahi Wabarakatuh. Greetings my sons. Come in please."
Enteringthe house, we sat down on layered out wool. After seeing the camera andnotepad we were carrying with us she put aside what she had in herhands and said: "You are welcome my son, any favour"
"Weare from "*****" Oh Aunt, and we want you to recount to us your storyin Falujjah during its second battle, if you don't mind"
HereUmm Ash-Shuhada' began with astonishment and said: ""******" Where didthis come from? I have never heard about it on television"
"OhMother, this is an Islamic news site on the internet that concernsitself with the affairs of the Muslims in Iraq and other Muslimcountries"
Umm Ash-Shuhadaa' laughsand says "By Allah my son, I have no idea what you are talking about,however you are welcome to ask and I will answer you Insha Allah"
"We want you to talk about Umm Ash-Shuhadaa' in the second battle of Falujjah"
Here the correspondent moved the lens of the camera spontaneously, however he wasn't intending on taping Umm Ash-Shuhadaa'.
Soshe said "By Allah my son, I don't like this camera because it isharaam and I am your mother, a covered woman. No matter how old I am, Istay a woman and I am not permitted what Allah has made forbidden forwomen"
"As for my story, there aretens of women like me in this city, except I am the most stricken for Ihave lost my three sons, I consider them to be martyrs for Allah'ssake."
Here Al Hajja Zakia Umm Ash-Shuhadaa' begins to narrate her story:
"Iam an old Falujjan woman who believes that Allah is the Truth, so Allahtested her and He still is... and I hope from Him that He accepts mygoing through this test for I am exhausted, by Allah.
Myhusband died ten years ago - and what an excellent husband may Allahhave mercy on him - and Allah blessed me with three sons and adaughter. They are, Ahmad, Muheeb, Umar and Khulood. The eldest wasAhmad who was thirty-five years old then Khulood, Muheeb and theyoungest was Umar. My husband and I devoted ourselves to raising them,caring for them and watching over them. Their father - may Allah househim in Paradise - would teach them and direct them until they grew upand became college graduates. They kept close to the mosques from thetime they were young until they died, and they joined the groups ofmujahideen in Falujjah after the occupation.
Thisis on my family, as for Falujjah and its beginnings then it is a longstory. I will shorten the talk because I am fasting and I also have alot of work to do in the house, and there are people who have paid memoney to repair their brooms.
Beforethe Second Battle of Falujjah by a week, I was sitting with my sons-Ahmad, Muheeb and Umar may Allah have mercy on them - in our old housein Ash-Shuhadaa' District. It was afternoon and we were drinking teatogether. They were trying to persuade me to go to their sister's housein a village out of Falujjah as they were worried about my safetybecause of the upcoming battle. The Americans, Shia's and Kurds weregathering like insects around the four gates of Falujjah.
Asfor me I refused this and they - may Allah have mercy on them - beggedme to leave, especially Umar, the youngest of my sons and he was sayingto me: "Oh my mother, leave Falujjah and leave us to fight while ourhearts are at rest for your sake. Leave, or I will bring a pickup, putyou in it and take you by force" He was teasing me may Allah have mercyon Him. He was very merry and all his friends would love him for hislight bloodedness. He would even call me Hajji and not Hajjiya for hewould say: "Your courage is that of men not of women"
Withall their persistence I refused their offer and said: "I will stay andcook for you and your group, and tend to your injuries. I will notleave Falujjah as long as you are in it. By Allah, I cannot leave myheart in Falujjah and go away"
Seeingme determined, they left me alone - may Allah have mercy on them - andour final decision was that we would stay in Falujjah until the end ofthe battle, either victory or martyrdom. Alhamdulillah my sons achievedmartyrdom.
Ahmad, Muheeb and Umareach were in different groups and they were discussing betweenthemselves a plan to stay in contact during the battle. I was listeningto their conversation with sadness as I remembered them when they wereyoung, how their father would hold them and play with them, how theygrew, how they went through school and how they ended up with beardsand moustaches. Until I even remembered each one of them how he plannedhis first plan in his life. I also remember my happiness the day theyfirst walked, and when their first teeth came and I would put my fingerfor them to chew on and I would laugh at them. Also their first day inschool and they would be with their small schoolbags.
Iwas crying in secret lest they would be hesitant as I was sure theywould die in that battle. "Tell me, if you thought all of your childrenwere going to die what would you do?" Nevertheless I was making dua toAllah that He would take my soul too so that I would not taste thegrief and sorrow over them.
Here Umm Ash-Shuhadaa' cries a bitter cry without sound and to be honest we all cried with her.
Suddenly she got up and said: "Excuse me, I will go and see the lentil soup, I fear that it is burning."
Only,she did not go to the kitchen, for we heard her crying in a room withits window facing the garden. Cries - different from the cries ofstricken women - of prayer came from this old woman for she said: "OhLord of the Kings and Ministers of whom the people come to them andthey don't reject them nor do they refuse them their requests even ifthey were sentenced to death. So with all the more reason oh Lord andYou are King of the Kings I stand here at Your Door asking You to takemy soul for I yearn for my sons and husband and no one will make mestay in this life. Oh my Lord don't reject me, a poor widowed womanwhose sons are all dead. Oh my Lord You are Capable so don't let medown."
Minutes later UmmAsh-Shuhadaa' returned, her eyes red from crying. She was leaning on awalking stick that she didn't have when we first saw her and it was asthough her body caved in from the crying and weakness. Pleasantly shesaid: "The gas when we use it for the stove it finishes in one day. Iam sure they cheat us with the gas and sell it to us for a high price.May Allah forgive them" and the poor woman didn't know that we hadheard her cries and dua.
So shecontinued her tale: "On 7/11/2004 the bombing intensified and therewere attempts to penetrate Falujjah from the north and they would hurllighted bombs. It was eleven o'clock night and I was alone at home andI started to recite what I had memorized of the Quran until I finishedall the small Surahs I had memorized. Then I began to pray to Allah,first for victory and second that He protect my sons. I did not sleepthat night, until the time for Fajr salat I felt Umar standing over myhead while I was in Sajdah. He said to me: "Oh Mother, I see you arenot sleeping. We are fine and I was with Muheeb and Ahmad, they arefine and they want you to make enough food and tea for fourteenmujahideen. What do you think, don't you want the reward?"
ByAllah I was so happy with our guests so I hurried to the kitchen andprepared enough food for thirty men, tea and hot bread I preparedquickly.
I went out with him in ahurry to the door and helped him take the food to the car. He said tome: "Oh Mother, today lunch is upon you. My brother Muheeb volunteeredlunch to the Arab mujahideen."
Iprayed Fajr and made dua to Allah that He protects them all. MeanwhileFalujjah was still being the target of the hits from the Americanplanes and shelling. With every hit, the house would lift above my headas though it was going to fall. I would turn to Allah with dua andQuran and in fact I did prepare the lunch for them. Muheeb came andkissed my hand as he usually did. He requested from me that if any ofhis brothers came that they should meet with him, the matter wasimportant. I asked him about the matter and he replied "that it wassomething simple that you needn't bother your head with."
He left and I looked after him until he disappeared from my sight. He may Allah have mercy on him was tall and heavily built.
Thenext day - and I had baked more than two hundred loaves of bread untilI tired out my hands from kneading the dough and I had also preparedtwo huge pots of rice and stew - they came all three of them and stayedwith me until one o'clock. I kissed them and smelt them as though theywere young again and I kept looking at them closely as though I knewthat I wasn't going to see them after that day. By Allah I will neverforget my kisses on them as long as I live. Their father died and therewas no one for me in this world except them. By Allah I knew each onefrom his nice odor. After an hour they went out together and took withthem the food and they kissed my head and hand and said to me: "OhMother, make dua for us for the sake of Allah"
So I said to them: "Why do you oath by Allah that I make dua for you night and day"
They said to me: "Not for us but for the whole of Falujjah"
They left and I never saw them again.
Falujjahwent through many nights of intense fighting that would make oneinsane. I would hear nothing but the cries of "Allahu Akbar", the duafrom the mosques, the strikes of the mujahideen and the shelling of theoccupation. Daily I would sit on the doorstep of the house hour afterhour looking at the street hoping for the arrival of my sons. I wouldask anybody coming my way and trot over to them: "Hey, oh one ofGhayrah (sense of honor), did you not see Ahmad, did you not seeMuheeb, and did you not see Umar my son?"

Here Umm Ash-Shuhadaa' cries again

"Some of them would say to me that they didn't know them and some would say that they didn't see, them except one.

He told me "Oh Mother, Ahmad and Umar are in Al-Jumhooriyah district and Muheeb is in An-Nizaal district and they are fine."

Hehurried off so I ran after him and I tripped and fell over. My nose wassmeared in blood as I begged him to stop and talk to me. He stoppedagain and said to me: "My Mother, I told you that they are fine andthere is nothing wrong with them Alhamdulillah, but don't make me late.I have very important work to do. If I see them again I will give themyour salam"

He gave me his Ghutrah and said: "Wipe away your blood oh Mother" then he left.

Icontinued in this condition until 12/12; however I decided after thisthat I would strengthen my heart, trust in Allah and do something forthe mujahideen. So I began to cook food and distribute water among thearab mujahideen. I also made bandages from the curtains of the house,pieces of material around the house and covers of pillows. Then I wouldtend to the mujahideen who were injured in the battle. AndAlhamdulillah all those whom I tended to returned to fight and theywere more than twenty.

Before I come to theday of 12/12, on 12/9 - and the dates, I am sure of, as I was countingthe days since I separated from my sons - this day the jews scatteredchemicals heavily all over Falujjah, especially in the center. Manypeople were martyred and these chemicals also burnt trees and animals.This helped the occupation advance into the center of Falujjah in a fewhours as tens of mujahideen were martyred. Then a rumor spread amongthe mujahideen from an unknown source which still now is unknown,except that I am sure it was from an agent.

Therumor was that Umar Hadid and Abdullah Al-Janaabi died in the chemicalattack. Panic spread in Falujjah among the groups, only Allah knows. Iwould hear about this from the injured that I was tending.

HoweverUmar Hadid and Abdullah Al-Janaabi dispelled these rumors when theycame up among the mujahideen that day. This event increased the moraleof the mujahideen and gave the occupation huge losses, only Allah knows.

Intensivefighting continued back and forth between the mujahideen and theoccupation and I would hear that there were tens of martyrs among themujahideen. I would ask Allah to delight my eyes one day with the sightof my three sons.

Then, at 11 o'clock nighton 12/12/2004, which was a Sunday, there occurred a fierce battlebetween the mujahideen and the Americans who were trying to take holdof Ash-Shuhadaa' district, advancing from outside of Falujjah not frominside.

The fighting was close to my houseand I would look up to the sky and see it lit up with fire, a sight Iwill never ever forget. Many martyrs fell during this battle and Iwould hear their groaning close to my house. It went on like this forabout four hours, from 11 o'clock until 3 o'clock, or a little less.During this time the American attack on the district failed. I went outto the door of the house and I heard a groan coming from an injuredMujahid. He was remembering Allah and he did not quit from Laa IllahaIllaa Allah Muhammad Rasoolulullah.

Ihurried over to him and he was still alive so I dragged him with all mystrength into the house. He was injured on his chest and face. Ihurriedly got some water and washed his face and bandaged his wounds sothat they would stop bleeding. He was crying and I thought that he wascrying because of the severity of his pain. Every time he looked at mehe would cry, so I said to him: "Trust in Allah oh man. Your injuriesare simple and, if Allah wills, curable and the fact that you are fineis what is important. Dawn is close and your faction will be here soonand they will take you and tend to you. However let me go and see ifyour faction has any life in it or not".

Hebegan to cry more severely this time and it was as though he didn'twant me to go, so I thought that maybe he felt that his death was closeand that he didn't want to die alone. I convinced him that hiscompanions were in need of help and that I would go and come backquickly.

I went out to the street - afterhitching up my abaya and fastening it around my waist - and decidedthat I would start with the injured. In fact I did find a secondinjured one, he was an Arab. So I dragged him into the house and beganto do what needed to be done with him. However I was astonished when headdressed me with the words "Oh Aunt Umm Muheeb" as though he knew meand also because the people usually call me Umm Ahmad. So I guessedthat he was a friend of my son and knew our house. He was injured belowhis navel - may Allah have mercy on him - and his intestines werehanging out the front. He told me that all he wanted was some mud fromthe garden, some salt and a bandage. I gave him what he wanted and thenI went back out into the street.

There Ifound two bodies, two houses away from mine. I dragged the first withall my strength to the house and put it in the garden. Then I fetchedthe spade intending to dig a grave for him. And indeed I dug a threehand span deep, two meter long grave then I buried him in it. Iintended to leave him under the protection of the ground until hisfamily or companions come to move his body to bury it moreappropriately according to Sharia.

After Iburied the first I was very exhausted for I was too old to be draggingtwo injured people and one dead body tens of meters. However I put mytrust in Allah and told myself, perhaps Allah will protect my sons fromdeath, in return for what I have done.

Iwent out to the street again and found another martyr who was heavilybuilt and tall. I began to slowly drag him from his feet and after someminutes I brought him to the garden of my house. There I started tosuspect that I knew this martyr - and his shirt was torn on the back -also his odor was familiar to me. It was night and so dark, I couldn'teven see the palm of my hand so I ran over to the house and got alantern, despite the dangers of any light emitting from the house. Thiswas because the planes could bomb at any minute.

WhenI fetched the lantern and got closer to the face of the martyr - whichwas covered in blood and sand - I froze in my place thunder stricken,speechless! For this martyr was none other than Muheeb my middle son!"

HereUmm Ash-Shuhadaa' cuts her story and bursts out crying. She says: "ByAllah oh Muheeb you broke my back, you and your brothers left me andwent away" then she says "Inna Lillahi Wa Innaa Ilayhi Raaji'oon. I hadplanned on not crying over them and this is the third time I have criedover them today"

Then the stricken womancontinues her story: "I lifted his head and brought it to my chest; Icried over him and talked to him for about half an hour as though hewas alive. I reminded him of his good talk with me and of when he wasyoung and he used to sleep on my lap. I stroked his beautiful soft hairas I used to always do. I said to him: "Oh Muheeb I am yourmother...sleep oh delight of my eyes, sleep and rest from this world. Youhave won!" By Allah I did not want to let him go from my lap. I buriedhim under the olive tree that he used to love and study under when hewas young - and I made the hole deep, for I decided that his gravewould be in his house.

In the morning agroup of mujahideen arrived and I was still at Muheeb's grave, guardingmy martyred son as if someone was going to take him from me. I criedover him from the night until the morning and I heard their voices inthe street so I went out to them. They knew me and I knew them as theywere Ahmad and Umar's companions from the organization.

I asked them: "Tell me, where are my sons Ahmad and Umar?

Theybowed their heads down and said: "Oh Aunt, consider them with Allah.Ahmad and Umar died last night in An-Nizaal district and we buried themin the yard of the home of Hajji Khaleel Al-Fiyaad"

Idon't know why I didn't cry at the time of the news. Maybe it wasbecause I was tired out from crying over Muheeb or because of the shockI was in. I asked them: "Did they die advancing or retreating?"

One of them replied: "By Allah they died advancing and they received their revenge before they died"

Ipraised Allah, and then I told them to enter the house to take theirtwo injured men with them. When they entered they found one of them -and it was the Arab - lifeless; his soul had departed. As for theother, he was still alive and they took him with them. They buried theother one in the garden of my house. They were amazed that I had beenable to dig two graves in an hour. I told them that the grave under theolive tree belonged to my son Muheeb and the other, a martyr that Ididn't know and that he wasn't buried properly. So I asked one of themto unbury him and make the grave bigger, fearing for the body.

Afterthis they asked me to come with them as they would try to get me out ofFalujjah. I refused this and one of them - he was not an Iraqi - saidto me: "Oh Mother you have lost three of your sons and we are all yoursons. Insha Allah Ahmad, Umar and Muheeb are in Paradise"

Theyleft in a hurry before my eyes and I returned inside the house to prayDuha. Three more battles broke out in three long nights. I was ableduring that time to drag four other martyrs and bury them in the gardenof my house. With that there was in the garden of the house sevengraves belonging to seven martyrs. The whole garden and house wasfilled with a musky scent that I had never smelt before and this scentmade me feel happy and gave me patience. I slept four nights next tothe grave of Muheeb and I would smell that aroma. I slept with him likethe mother who carries her son when he is asleep. I stayed a prisonerin my house with the martyrs for seven days until 13/1/2005, when theRed Crescent entered from the north with the permission of theoccupation. They forced me to go with them to a camp in As-Saqlaawiya.There I found out that after the battle that the volunteer workers fromFalujjah dug up Muheeb and his companions and took them to re bury themwith their brothers in the new martyr's graveyard.

Thisis my story and I tell it despite all the pain and injury I wentthrough. Also I wish that I had three more sons who would die for thesake of Allah despite my grief over them as your mother is proudbecause she is mother of the martyrs."

HereUmm Ash-Shuhadaa' finishes her story with a few verses of Bedouinpoetry that we were able to write down. She said: "This is for thescholars of the muslims, who place their turbans on their heads. Tothem I dedicate these two verses. I ask them. What will you say on theday you stand between the Hands of the Avenger and Powerful? It (thepoem) goes like this:

From you we expected and thought that you would lift and take us.

And we did not expect - with this affliction - that you would try to get away.

From you we expected and (this part I can't translate)

Oh injustice all hope has gone and the liar has arisen


ByAllah you have broken our hearts and brought tears to our eyes withyour story oh Mother of the Martyrs. May Allah accept your sons asmartyrs and gather you with them in the highest level of Paradise,Al-Firdaws. Ameen!
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