My Eyes Could Not See and My Ears Could Not Hear

Narrator: Mohamad Ali (father)

Victim: Baqer Mohammadi

Date of the incident: 23 July 2016

Location of the incident: Dehmazang, Kabul City

I am the father of martyr Baqir. We hail from Ghazni province, Malestan district, Qol Yakhi village, and belong to the Bassi tribe. Martyr Baqir attended Shindeh High School up to 9th grade. Since the quality of education was low, I advised him to go to Quetta in Pakistan and learn the English language. He agreed that he would go to Pakistan to learn English and Urdu. Pakistan is home to some of our relatives, including one of my sisters. I told him to go there; he could stay with them and carry on with his education. I even told him that when he went to my sister's house, “your food will be ready and your clothes will be washed.” He learned English and Urdu for two years. Another of my sons was in Iran. Baqir had spoken with him on the phone and he told Baqir that he could manage his life, and wanted to go to Iran. His brother agreed. The martyr moved to Iran and lived with his brother for a month. When his brother saw Baqir was not able to carry out heavy work, he felt sorry for him and suggested that he should continue his educational programs. He returned to Pakistan and called me to say he wanted to continue with his plans to study. I told him he had lost focus and would not be able to study well, and that it was better for him to come back to Kabul. He accepted my suggestion and returned home.

For six months, he helped me and his mother with work in farming and livestock. I called one of my friends and told him I wanted to send Baqir to work in Saudi Arabia, so could he lend me some money. They sent me the money and Baqir went to Pakistan, stayed there for a year, and prepared his visa and passport. He went to Saudi Arabia in 2009. In 2013, he performed the Hajj pilgrimage and lived in Saudi Arabia until 2014. Then he called me and said he wanted to come home. I agreed. Back then, we lived in Malestan. I bought a cow to sacrifice in honor of my son coming back home from Saudi Arabia. After the ceremony, I asked him if he would like to start a family. He said, “You can decide on my behalf.” I understood he approved the idea. I started looking for a good girl, and proposed a girl to him, who was from Kamrak in Jaghori district.

I asked him if he consented to choose the girl as his life partner. He went to the area by himself, met the girl, and approved her. We went there to the girl’s family to ask for her hand. After a while, they got engaged. The girl's father told me his daughter was in 9th grade and needed to complete her schooling. I told him we will talk about that at the right time. Twenty days later, I went and talked with my friend, my daughter in-law’s father. I told him, “My son has six months to stay here. He must use this time well, because then he is going back to Saudi Arabia for work.” I told him, “I will transfer my daughter in-law so that she can peacefully go to a school near our home.” Following the conversation, we reached an agreement. Within three months, I prepared all the wedding expenses and brought my son’s bride home.

My son, Haji Baqir, lived with his wife for two and a half months and subsequently returned to Saudi Arabia. In 2015, we moved to Kabul. Baqir traveled to Kabul again. We live in Barchi. He stayed home for six months. During this time, he didn't go out much; he was always at home. Later, he went back to Saudi Arabia. In 2016, Baqir came to Kabul for a six month vacation. He stayed in Kabul for twenty days. One day, he asked me if he and his wife could go on vacation to Malestan. I allowed them to go and they went to Ghazni in a friend's car. They stayed in Malestan for a month. They visited friends and relatives there. God had given him a one-year-old boy. I called him and said that I missed my grandson and it would be good if they returned to Kabul. He would always wake up during prayer time and then go back to sleep after prayer. His mother would wake him up for breakfast and we would have breakfast together. He got his ID card translated into English, verified in court, and submitted it to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. On Wednesday, he handed over his ID card and passport to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to be stamped.

After his martyrdom, I found out that he had told my niece, “Take a picture of me today, I want to post it on Facebook so that all my friends can see it.” He had seen my niece going to the educational center early in the morning. The martyr bid farewell to her and said, "This is our last meeting." My niece was with her friend and thought he said that because his vacation time was over, and maybe he would return to Saudi Arabia. We have a recitation ceremony of the Holy Quran on Fridays. After the ceremony, he went to the mosque to perform Friday prayers. He returned home at 2 pm and said, "Mother, I have not eaten." His mother went to the store, bought eggs, and cooked for him. An hour after lunch, he went to his uncle's house and returned home with his uncle an hour later. My niece had come from Quetta, so they went to my sister's house.

We used to have breakfast at 8:00 a.m. That day, he woke me up early in the morning. When I went to the table, everyone had already had breakfast. I asked how come they had woken up so early and had breakfast. He said he wanted to go out somewhere. His mother asked him whether he would like to have cheese or cream for breakfast. He told his mother that he wanted cheese. His mother was worried and asked him where he was going. He told his mother he wanted to participate in the demonstration, but his mother disagreed. She said he was here for just six more days; there was no need to go to the demonstration. But he did not listen to his mother and said, "Mother, I am not worth more than others and I am advocating for my rights."

Seeing that Baqir would not listen to her, his mother said she would go as well. I intervened and told his mother, "It is hot, you should not go." His mother listened to me and stayed at home. Baqir was with my niece. Before leaving the house, he was wearing a short-sleeved dress. His mother said it would be good for him to change his clothes because it was hot and sunny, and he might be troubled. Baqir went to his room, and after 15 minutes, came out wearing a long-sleeved dress. Before the 23rd July incident, whenever Baqir left the house, we would call him twice a day. He was going to the city, and we would call him once or twice. On the day of the demonstration, neither I nor his mother called him.

At 2 pm, a friend called me and asked about Baqir. He said there was an explosion in Dehmazang and told me to call him soon. I called him but he didn't answer his phone. I called my niece, she said, "uncle, there was an explosion. I got a slight wound, but Haji Baqir is seriously injured and is currently in the emergency room." Hearing that, the world became dark in front of my eyes. I stood up. His mother joined me, and we went out onto the road. It was hot, we got two bottles of mineral water. We got a taxi and I told the driver that my son took part in the demonstration and it is said that there was an explosion and he was injured, but I don't know which hospital he was in. The driver took us to Esteqlal Hospital. Baqir's name was not on the list in Esteqlal Hospital. They told us to go to Ibn-e Sina Hospital. The situation was horrible and the roads were closed. We got there, and the condition of the hospital was terrible. I searched the through list again and again, but I could not find Baqir’s name. My brother, too, searched the list. He may have seen Baqir’s name but he did not tell me.

Then, I saw that the martyrs were laid on the ground because the condition inside the hospital was awful. I went out of the building and I fainted in the yard. My eyes could not see and my ears could not hear. I gave the phone to my niece and told her to answer the phone calls. A few minutes later, she received a call that said Haji Baqir was injured and was in the emergency room. Then I knew for sure that my son Haji was martyred. Baqir's mother was in a terrible condition. My brother told me I should go home and they would find Haji Baqir. We got a taxi and somewhere close to the house, I saw people had gathered. At that moment, I understood that God had taken our son from us. I can't describe that situation; I can only pray to God to not let this happen to any other human being and that nobody may feel the pain of losing a young child. I am not being ungrateful. He came from God. God saw us worthy of this gift for a certain period, but then He took it back from us.