The life of a child taken by pride, arrogance and brutality. …:'(


“Honestly – after reading this i cannot post anything else today.

I am so saddened by this and every other story that echoes this one.

The life of a child taken by pride, arrogance and brutality.

The tide MUST turn and Love must become our purpose in this World if we are to survive.

Please read and share for all the childrens sakes and keep little Omar in your heart as a reminder that kindness costs nothing” ~ Vanessa Beeley..

Africa to Gaza Aid Convoy (fb page)

  • Stories like Omar’s do not only steal whatever humanity you have left, it also deconstructs all your long held beliefs. Naive beliefs that Justice will be serve…d and that evil will lose at the “end”, no matter how long it takes. Welcome to the real world, where injustice always finds the easiest ways to win.Omar Salah. Another name of yet another martyr. But Omar was not even a 21 years old. Omar was not a middle class political activist. Omar used to fight, but not for political reasons. Omar used to fight every single day…to survive.
    Omar was 12 years old. Yes, twelve. He used to sell sweet potatoes on a peddler’s cart. Omar had 5 sisters, and a brother. أis father is a sweet potato seller too. The 12 years old dropped out of school, but not because he did not like it. He dropped out to work and help his father and family survive.

    In an old interview, Omar was asked “What do you dream of, Omar?”
    He Answered:” I don’t have the right to dream, Mr.”

    Omar used to tell his father to stay home, volunteering to work instead of him, because he felt that his father was too tired to wander the streets all day for a few pounds. “No, father. You stay and rest. I will go and sell the sweet potato and I promise to come back with money”. When his older sister was hospitalized, Omar came to his father and said: ” I know you do not have any money.” and he went out all day. His father and uncles kept searching for him all day. He came back at 2 am. When he came back, his father found out that he took 5 pounds from some bystander and bought some tissues packets, and sold them to the people on the streets. And he gave the money to his father.

    On the day Omar was killed, he had only two pounds in his pockets. What did he do with them? He went and bought very little food and forced his not so hungry father to eat, because he wanted to feed him. “No, father. I insist. I just want to see you eating. You are so worn out. I swear I am not leaving until you finish eating”.
    He then went to a bystander and asked him for two pounds. He took them and bought a cup of tea for his father.

    Omar was killed by two bullets shot directly to his heart in Tahrir. Why was Omar in Tahrir? Not for protesting, not for joining our “fight”. He was fighting a different and harder battle. He was fighting to feed his family. An army officer came to buy sweet potatoes from Omar. Omar told him that he would sell to him, but after he goes to the bathroom first. The very arrogant officer did not like the answer and threatened to shoot him. Omar challenged him, because you see, even 12 years old KIDS have dignity too. So the officer ended up shooting Omar and killing him.

    I used to say that we have lost any sacredness for human life, after witnessing so many people get killed in front of us in cold blood by an arrogant and oppressive regime. But this time it is different. This time, something just died inside. I now realize that something inside could still feel and react to what is happening.
    What hurts is not that a 12 years old had been turned into the breadwinner, after being denied any right to a healthy childhood. He had been denied the right to go to school, buy toys, have friends, spend time playing, not working.

    He had been denied basically every right. He had been denied the joy of wearing a school uniform, this cute tiny uniform, and feeling what it is like to wear it for the first time. He had been denied the right to play in mud, start silly fights, eat healthy food, sleep well.

    Even the peace of mind we envy children for…this too has been taken away from him in all viciousness. But that all does not hurt as much now. We kinda got used to it. At least I did.

    What hurts the most is that Omar’s death was discovered by chance. Marginalized in life, marginalized in death!

    A few activists were searching for another activist who had disappeared after the Friday protests, and they went to Al Monira hospital to look for him there. They did not find the activist, but a doctor who works in the hospital told them that he saw the corpse of a child, and he did not know who he was or what had happened to him and he gave them Omar’s picture. The activists kept trying to figure out who Omar was, until they found this video of an old interview in which he was speaking about his life.

    I am at loss for words. Feelings are piling up inside me and I don’t feel like commenting…on anything. How many Omars do we have and know of? How many Omars do we have, but we do not know of? Does this make any sense to any of you? It does not to me.

    They killed us, before they kill us. A generation of numb zombies! That is what they have turned us into.

    Omar’s funeral will be held in tahrir tomorrow after Friday prayers. Please, try to be there in honor of a 12 years old’s struggle.

    I am so sorry, Omar that all I could do is to “tweet about it”. I am sorry I am so numb and helpless. I am so very sorry, because I too was responsible for this. I am sorry. I am just very sorry.

    by: H

    eba Farouk Mahfouz

    Reporter at Japaneses News Agency, Jiji Press

About Abdullah

Analytical & Creative. --- I'm not a Sheikh or a scholar, I'm just a regular guy in love with this Deen. Don't praise me for practicing my Deen. But pray for me, for the errors, that you haven't seen.

Posted on February 24, 2013, in Articles, Terrorism. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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