Stories of Survival after November 9

- by Sheila M. Dabu. -

Sheila Dabu, a parishioner at the Newman Centre and a former Campus Minister began an internship last fall as a writer for the Jordon Times Newspaper, in Amman, Jordon. She was present in Amman during the terrorist attack last November 9th. The reflection Sheila shares with us about her experience from a faith perspective was published in The Catholic Register in their January 15th issue. Our thanks to Sheila for sharing her story.

 

AMMAN - Barely two months into my internship as a reporter for the Jordan Times, November 9 happened. Around 8:50pm, a team of suicide bombers launched coordinated attacks on three Amman hotels, including a wedding party of about 300 guests at the Radisson SAS hotel, leaving 60 dead, more than 90 injured, and a country in mourning.

At Jordan Hospital, nurses Bindu Ek and Alphonse Jacob take turns cradling the youngest survivor of the terrorist attacks, three-month old Toleen Kareem. Shrapnel from the blast fractured her forearm. Sadly, she lost her mother, grandmother and grandfather in the blast. Toleen was found by police on the floor of the Radisson SAS ballroom, alone. After a frantic search by her father, they would eventually be reunited.

Just a few metres from Toleen is four-year old Ammar Keilane. During King Abdullah and Queen Rania's visit to Jordan Hospital, Ammar smiles and plays with his toys, just like any other child. After the visit, Abdulraheem, Ammar's father, takes out his prayer mat, closes the curtains and prays. Shrapnel is lodged in Ammar's brain. Doctors say that for now, the surgery to remove it is too dangerous. His parents are, nevertheless, grateful that Ammar has finally awoken from his coma.

"Ammar is loved very much by his family and friends … He especially likes weddings. He likes to dress up as the groom. When the explosion happened, he was singing and dancing," his uncle, Zeid Keilane says, fighting back tears.

How does one make sense of a tragedy involving innocent lives? And how can anyone justify murder in the name of God or religion? I kept asking myself these questions each time I visited the hospitals, saw the survivors, spoke to their families, and in a small way, shared in their pain and sorrow. Many Jordanians are also asking similarquestions: Why target a wedding party? Why take innocent lives? Others make connections to the bigger picture, leading to more questions without answers: Why target mosques in Iraq? Homes in the Palestinian territories? Cafés and public buses in Israel?

"Overcome evil with good"

One evening, I turned to my Bible to the page where I found a Mother Teresa prayer card. As I was reading, I came across this passage: "Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good." (Romans 12:21)

Standing in the middle of an anti-Zarqawi protest march in the outskirts of Amman made this message resonate louder. The march isn't about hatred or revenge, but a denunciation of violence, a demonstration for peace. I look around the sea of faces, young children, teenagers, parents. The street protest, about a thousand-strong, has become a family affair. (It reminded me of when my own parents took me and my sisters to peaceful protest marches during the 1986 People Power Revolution in the Philippines.) In the middle of the procession is a group of religious leaders – Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic and Latin priests and Muslim leaders – linked arm in arm as a sign of solidarity against violence and a statement of peace.

"What is happening today reinforces the brotherhood between the Christians and Muslims … All of the parishioners, they feel sadness and feel that it's a big problem," says Romaneous Samawi, a Greek Orthodox priest in Fuheis, a small town outside of Amman. "Jordan has always tried to keep peace everywhere. As a Jordanian, we can't believe that war happened here."
Small children waving Jordanian flags and banners twice their size lead the procession in the predominantly Christian town of Fuheis to meet their Muslim neighbours from Mahas in the middle of Hassan Circle.

Five-year old Qosai Hattar tells me that he is very sad about all the children who were killed by the bomb. "I pray for all small children," he said.

Many also share the sentiments of fifteen-year old Wessal Ziadett.

"Zarqawi is a Muslim but he does not practice his religion because Islam is a peaceful religion."

Building a culture of peace

Perhaps these protests loudly rejecting terrorism and violence are part of the answer, demonstrating to everyone that there can be no justification for attacking innocent people; proclaiming that violence against civilians is a cowardly act. And that hiding behind guns or bombs that shatter innocent lives does not make you a martyr.

Many ask what the response should be. And many still respond, almost rhetorically, "Go forward. Continue on the path towards peace."

Jordan and other countries like Canada should continue in its role in advocating for peace in the Middle East and elsewhere, in seeking a just and lasting peace for Palestinians, Israelis, Iraqis, Sudanese, the list goes on. To bring home the message to the next generation that violence does not lead to lasting solutions and that the root causes of the problem need to be addressed, not ignored.

Recently, there have been talks in Jordan about how to build a culture of peace. Some scholars have advocated for a critical examination of Islamic teachings and their teachers. Others point to the need to separate Islam from the political ideology of suicide attacks. Of course, the problems of the region are complex. There is no "magic bullet" solution. But seeking to find long-term social, political and economic solutions to stop and prevent terrorism at its roots is paramount.

November 9 clearly demonstrates the sad reality that violence touches every corner of the world. (For many years, Jordan had been considered the "safest" country in the Middle East.) In a way, the November 9 also helps us to be in solidarity with the people suffering in places that are not always in the international media spotlight such as Africa and the civil war that still rages in Sudan, in homes where domestic violence is hidden, in neighbourhoods plagued by poverty and gang violence.

Finding solace in Christ

Like most Jordanians, I continue to live as I did before the bombings, unafraid to visit the same places as before. But being in hospitals day after day, interviewing survivors, families and hospital staff takes its toll, physically and emotionally. What the tragedy of November 9 has taught me is to draw strength from God and my faith. I have found solace in reflecting upon Christ's own suffering; how He responded not with anger or violence but transformed the violence of His crucifixion into a lesson about peace, the triumph of light and life over darkness and death.

Inevitably, reflecting upon Christ's death leads to a contemplation of His life, how He came into the world as the personification of God's unconditional love. Although the Advent season has come to a close, we can continue to reflect upon our own spiritual "re-birth"; how God's love took on flesh and physical expression in Jesus' birth and His later sacrifice. Furthermore, this contemplation can include thoughts about how to fashion our own lives as an expression of that Divine love.

Perhaps November 9 can also be a catalyst for a period of self-examination. As a Jordan Times editorial notes, "there are many problems in the Arab and Muslim worlds that need to be addressed. Only the foolish, naïve and irreligious would blame all these problems on outsiders. The first place to look is always at one's self: It is the greater jihad."

Cynics doubt that Jesus' lessons of peace and forgiveness will ever become reality – people are too selfish, too apathetic, the problems have no solutions, they say. Or worse, it's destined to be this way or it's part of our nature, others argue. But God holds us to a higher standard and believes that we are capable of something more, by using our God-given talents in our own way, however big or small, that contributes positively to our family, our society. And just by looking at some of the conflicts around us, even in some of our own neighborhoods in Toronto, we know. Peace needs to happen now, not later.


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