I can never forgive the blood of my brother being spilled. I will never forgive my brother’s killers

Narrator: Amena (sister)

Victim: Sayed Ishaq Hussaini

Date of the incident: 23 July 2016

Location of the incident: Dehmazang, Kabul City

I am the sister of Shahid (martyred) Ishaq. I don’t know his exact date of birth. He finished twelfth grade in the Waras district in the province of Bamyan. After he graduated from twelfth grade, he went to Iran for 13 months. Last year during Arba'ein (the fortieth day after Ashura), he was in Karbala. Five months ago, until Sizdah Bedar (Nature’s Day), he was in Iran, and after 13 days of the Nowruz holidays, he returned to the [Afghanistan]…from Iran. When he returned from Iran, he enrolled in some training courses.

Two days before Eid, he went to our home village to visit my parents and spent almost 12 to 13 days with them. I called and told him to come back and study for his courses as they had already resumed. On Thursday he returned from our home village and he came to our house on Friday afternoon. After greetings and prayers, we ate dinner together and chatted until midnight. Then we went to bed.

The following day was the day of the incident. It was Saturday. After he had breakfast, he said goodbye and told me he would go to his own room. Since he was a student, he had rented a room with friends. He didn’t tell me he was going to the demonstration. I followed the demonstrations on television up to the point when I saw the suicide attack. Each time I called him, he said he was in his room and hid from me…that he was actually taking part in the demonstration. After the suicide attack, I called him but someone else picked up his phone. When I ask the person where the owner of the phone was, he said the owner of the phone had been wounded and his hand was slightly injured.

By the time I found a taxi and went to the hospital, he had already been martyred (he had passed away). He was only 21 years old and had a fiancée. He would always tell me that his one wish in life was to go back to Karbala…one more time, after which if he died, he would not wish for anything more. On the night before his martyrdom/death, [my brother] related to me that he had had dreamt that he had visited Karbala. He died/was martyred the following day.

[My brother] would always offer his prayer and would always recite the Holy Quran. In the morning before he went to his room, he asked me after prayer to turn the light on for him, so he could read the Quran. When my maternal cousin learned that Ishaq had been martyred/killed, he told us that he was a faithful boy who cared about the afterlife. He was a son of the soil, and God would not let him sin. We all believe that Sayed ul-Shuhada (the Master of Martyrs) has accepted Ishaq’s pilgrimage [to Karbala]. Now, my old mother has asked us to provide her with travel expenses so she can go on pilgrimage [to Karbala] on behalf of her son.

He would not go out for no reason, and whenever he would go out, his head was down and he never harassed anyone. I have two other brothers and they are also the best, but God who created Sayed from earth, also took him back into the earth, away from us. I had already made embroidered clothes/shalwar kameez for his wedding. When he was chatting with me, he said he didn’t have enough money for the wedding ceremony and he would have to wait till the following year, though if his fiancée’s family insisted, he would have to hold the wedding sooner.

When I went to the Mowla Ali Hospital to find him, he was lying in his own blood. His head had been injured very badly. I was so heavy-hearted I didn’t know what to do. My husband and I took his body out of the hospital. None of our relatives were there and I felt very lonely. My parents are very old. We buried Ishaq alone; we had to bury our loved one among strangers. My mother still sheds tears and has become sick with grief because of losing my brother. My other brother cries when he is alone. My heart aches when I see him so restless and sad. No matter how much we console him, he cannot forget his sorrow over losing our brother (martyr) Ishaq. I myself go to the hill [the Hill of Martyrs] out of immense heartache and cry up there so that I don’t bother my husband. My brother was only 21 years old. He was martyred along with other youths. It happened as if by accident, though it may have been intentional. I can never forgive the blood of my brother being spilled. I will never forgive my brother’s killers. Ethnic leaders betrayed us and made our youths their political toys, and then they sacrificed them.