Aya Al-Umari  🇳🇿 آية العمري  🇮🇶

I am Aya Al-Umari sister of the martyr Hussein Al-Umari. There are no words that do justice to explain what it is like to have you from having lunch with your brother one day, to burying him in another.

Hussein had plans to start a new job&life in Nelson,over our lunches he would tell me about his Nelson ventures with the goal that we would all move there with him.Everything was set in motion&in the interim he found peace& tranquility praying in the Mosque till moving time comes

Hussein was the backbone to our family and to his circle of friends and society. He would give up his time, money and effort if he knew someone was in trouble. He would sacrifice his own wellbeing for the good of the people.

Hussein was my guardian, not only he was to me, but he was to the Mosque as well. On the day of his murder, his selfless guardianship ultimately meant that he lost his life, but if it meant giving a new lease of life to others then that is what Hussein is.

He is a hero that society deserves to have. On the day of his murder when we couldn't locate Hussein in the Mosque or his house, I went to the hospital and it was stepping into a war zone.

I will never ever forget the distressing scenes of people covered in blood, and the weeping sound of children men and women crying. These images and sounds will stay in my mind forever.

As the list of people being treated was being finalised, I had to make the call to my parents, that our worst fear may be close to reality,

The weight of my phone felt like a tonne and it was a gut wrenching feeling to have to call your mother and tell her "your son might be dead, prepare to grieve"

Since his murder I have taken responsibility as the family's point of contact for all agencies namely the police, victim support and court advisors. This was because my mother and father were still processing the atrocity of having to bury their child.

Hussein's murder has necessitated things that I never thought in my life I would do, I no longer have a big brother to look after me during my vulnerable time; I had to snap out of being the youngest child, to being the ONLY child.

Family responsibilities now lay on my shoulder rather than Hussein&I.This shift in family structure is unfamiliar. There is enormous number of people and the blend of cultures as to who this impacted presented its own set of challenges when it came to having a private funeral.

I was robbed of these kinds of closures given the grand scale of this mass murder. I wanted to cry many many times. I wanted someone to defend me, but the only person capable of doing so is the person laying dead in front of me with blood still streaming out of his brain,

so I had to put a brave face for my family as I felt like I needed to at the cost of my own mental wellbeing. This caused me to have an elongated/delayed period of grief and was very emotionally distressing.

I had to take two months off work, I needed more because of this, but I couldn't. This was detrimental to my career aspiration and development. I struggled to get myself back to 'Normal' because there is nothing normal to murder.

The consequential effects of this mass murder stretches far beyond than just my family or ones directly impacted. At times I found that I have to console strangers when the topic comes about.

I am not only mourning the loss of my brother but the fact that I will never have any nieces or nephews. I also mourn the loss of my Hussein's hopes and goals. He will never be able to live out his potential in helping people and making a different in the world.

My Best friend was executed in cold blooded murder out of hatred. I still have the urge to pick up the phone and talk to Hussein, tell him about my day and rant to him because he is the only one who would understand,