To mourn, and to carry on their legacies

a reminder to self-reflect ahead of another year

It feels like the world is mourning Khaled Nabhan, our collective grandfather, who we grew to know and love in the last year. Whose pain we joined when he held his lifeless granddaughter — Reem — in his arms.

When we lose good, kind-hearted souls it feels like we lose a part of ourselves. But in reality, they will forever be with us. Khaled’s lifeless body will never escape our minds. Retribution will always be sought for his death murder. We will always blame our government for its bloody hands, and our own guilt eats at us as we shed a few tears, share a post, but then snap back to our safe lives far from there. As we spend our money in a country that invests that money into killing people like Khaled.

Do we pause and wonder if we’re doing enough? Is there more to do? How do we move on?

Khaled was killed in an Israeli strike so bloody and violent, yet he still was not defeated. His luminous face was filled with نور (nur/light) and he left behind a hint of a smile, as if he was finally at peace. Even in his death, he resisted. Israel could not take away his spirit.

We saw a glimpse of how he lived his life in the past year — in service of the people and his community (and cats), and in worship to Allah (swt). His faith inspired us and his actions taught us.

When we lose people like Khaled, we are reminded of how we are supposed to live. We are urged to pick up where he left off, and to yearn to be a light at a time when there is too much darkness.

The questions I asked earlier never escape my mind. I strive for my words to mean something and for the work I do to change something, but there is no guarantee any of our efforts are actually impactful in the ways we want it to be. But I constantly am reminded that we still try. It’s in that insistence and persistence that matters and that we are held accountable for.

Did you give up? Have you continued to live your life in the same exact way you lived prior to October 2023? How are you defying oppressive and unjust systems? How are you spending (or not spending) your money?

As the year ends and we look forward to living another one, self-reflection and self-accountability become increasingly important. We can always do more.

This fall, I spent some time working on a limited podcast series with the Iman Jasim Foundation. I heard from so many amazing women (some in their 30s, but most in theirs 40s, 50s, and 60s) from Dearborn, Michigan on the ways they have been consistently working in service of their community and of orphans in need overseas.

There is so much to say about these women, but it’s already been said in the episodes in their own voices. What I took away is the shared love we all have for Iman Jasim — Um Omar — the woman who the foundation is named after due to her legacy and work in providing orphan relief.

She passed away five years ago this week (Dec. 18) and her death shook the Metro Detroit community الله يرحمها (May Allah have mercy on her soul).

She was the “ultimate doer” as one of the women put it. From advocating for better women’s programming at Masjid Dix back in the ‘90s, to starting a solid Quran program, to a weekly charity kitchen that supports and empowers other women while allowing them to gather funds for orphans, to travelling to Iraq to build schools and feed families, to giving halaqas, to being an ear for women’s marital and family issues, to protesting in the streets, to giving the best hugs and biggest smiles, to writing children’s books that inspire, to this and that and so much more.

What we saw after her death, was that her work continued. The community mourned her, but were also driven to take on the responsibility of building and serving even more. Her memory still lived on in the rooms she passed through, and the hearts she touched.

When we lose people like Iman and Khaled, we are reminded of how we are supposed to live. To spread more خير (goodness) and to keep doing. Whatever that looks like, and whatever your skillset and passion pushes you to do. To empower our own communities and lean on our neighbors and teach the next generation.

We are reminded to practice our own religion and live by its commandments. To allow it to guide our actions and reactions, and ascertain right from wrong and truth from falsehood.

In these moments, we draw on that strength and we hope to put in efforts wherever and whenever we can. We can only hope to die in a state where God is pleased with us, and we can only hope to leave the world a little better than we came into it.