MY FIRST FUNERAL AT 19

[techsamatar]

At 19, I attended my first funeral for a childhood friend, let's call him Guleed for privacy reasons. He was around the same age as me and tragically murdered before reaching his early 20s, unlike me. Guleed's mom belonged to the same subclan as my family, hailing from the same town. His dad was Barawani, but Guleed was raised by his single mom, who chose to keep him. Consequently, he didn't visit his dad much, as his father had another family in a different city.

He didn't have a father to guide him down the right path and keep him occupied. During his school years, he fell in with a rough crowd and troubled kids, switching from one school to another and eventually graduating from a school that catered to such youths; it was a single building, not many of them around. When his family moved to the same area where I lived, and I had siblings a year or two older than me, his mother was overjoyed to find a Somali family with kids of similar age. She saw how we were educated and considered good role models. We even attended Quran lessons together on weekends, and for a while, we took him along. We did everything together, especially during the summers—playing sports, going to parks. Both he and I joined the local football team, and during winter nights, only he and I went for training. I have fond memories of those dark night strolls and our conversations about life afterward.

I spent the majority of our days together lecturing him about religion and life. I advised him against the people he associated himself with and shared my plans for the future—accumulating wealth, starting a family—and how he could fit right into those plans. He had two adorable younger siblings, a boy around 1-2 years old and a 4-year-old girl who adored me. Given that his family's house was close by, I frequently crashed there, playing games and relaxing. Although the two siblings didn't share the same dad, with Guleed being the only child from his biological father, it wasn't a significant matter. His stepdad, an elderly man who wasn't often at home, kept to himself. Guleed's older brother, having been part of a troublesome lifestyle but eventually outgrowing it, used to be strict with him. They would engage in fights and arguments, resulting in Guleed leaving the house at times. During his high school years, he'd return home very late or not at all, prompting his worried mother to rush to our house, emotionally seeking Guleed. My brothers and I would then try to reach out to him,

My father would often label him as a troubled kid and advise me to keep my distance. However, I consistently argued in his defence, and even my older brother encouraged my father to let him socialize with us more. The idea was to provide a distraction from external influences. Without fail, every morning at 7 am, he'd be at our front door, joining my brothers on their way to school. While they didn't attend the same school, their journeys mostly followed the same route. He often had breakfast at our house, and during holiday times, he would share not only lunches but also dinners with us. Around the age of 15, or perhaps older, Guleed became involved in a shop robbery with other kids, leading to his arrest and a charge on his record. Despite being underage, the charge was expected to be removed in a year or a couple of years. Little did he know that this incident would have repercussions later on, as you'll discover.

 

[techsamatar]

After high school, our connection began to fade, especially when he entered college. However, not long into his college journey, he faced expulsion or removal, often encountering trouble with both troublesome peers and random people at the college. Eventually, he decided to leave college altogether. With limited options and unable to rely solely on his single mother—who wasn't employed, and where the older brother and sister were the primary breadwinners—he turned to the streets. He ran away from home, finding shelter with his associates. This decision led to his mother's profound emotional breakdown, feeling overwhelmed with the responsibility of caring for her other children. Guleed believed he needed to make money and, consequently, delved into the street life full-time, focusing mainly on fraud and robberies with his group of associates.

Guleed was aptly described as Goliath; even between the ages of 13 to 16, he could easily pass for someone aged 18 to 20. Despite lacking a beard, he stood tall at 6'4", with a hefty build. Though he carried some weight, his stature and height prevented him from being considered obese. His quickness was surprising given his size. He had a penchant for fighting and engaging in one-on-ones, a reputation that made him both known and feared. Interestingly, people often assumed we were blood cousins, a claim he didn't hesitate to affirm. This association granted me favour and acceptance in areas and neighbourhoods where he was well-liked and respected by everyone. I recall a vivid memory when a group of white kids and a Sikh kid instigated a confrontation with our group in a park. Guleed engaged in a one-on-one with the Sikh kid and emerged victorious. Following this, the white kids pressured the Sikh kid to brandish a small button board knife. However, Guleed fearlessly stood his ground, inviting the Sikh kid to come and stab him while attempting to fight him. The Sikh kid seemed reluctant, and it was evident he was being exploited. In a twist of events, a gang member happened to be nearby, involved in illicit activities in the area. I approached him randomly seeking backup, and he nonchalantly walked towards the scene with me. Witnessing his presence, the instigators scattered in all directions.

His boldness, relying solely on his size and strength, would ultimately lead to his downfall. However, before that, following his expulsion from college, our communication dwindled, and we didn't connect as we used to growing up. I reached out to him when he went missing and sought refuge at a friend's house. I spent hours advising him to come back, but he seemed deaf to my pleas. I even spoke to the guy whose house he was at, but there was no response from Guleed.

He delved into the street life full-time, and his right-hand man was a Moroccan guy, a friend from their school days. Together, they engaged in robberies and fraud, making it their primary source of income. Unfortunately, with each passing day, he seemed to lose a bit of his moral sanity. In the year he passed away, they used the money they had earned to embark on Guleed's first and final holiday to Turkey. However, his moral compass had deteriorated significantly by then. There was an incident where my brother's friend's younger brother provided his card for fraudulent activities. Something went awry, and instead of returning the card, they ended up robbing his phone. Despite attempts by my brother and his friend to retrieve the phone as a favor, and even offering some money for the gesture, Guleed and his Moroccan companion retained both the money and the phone. In the world of criminality, it seemed there was no longer any adherence to a code.

Allah's wake-up call and warning reached Guleed during an incident in a park. Five guys ambushed him and a friend, resulting in Guleed getting stabbed five times in the stomach. Despite the severity of his injuries, He drove himself to the hospital. Perhaps fuelled by adrenaline, Guleed, in a critical condition, even switched seats with his friend during the journey. He was 20secs from death and bleeding out, but he managed to get dropped off at the hospital in time, and in the end, he survived. I was shocked when I first found out. Initially, I thought his sister had mentioned his passing, but she clarified that he had survived. Guleed returned to his mom's house, all patched up. We spoke, and I believed he had received a wake-up call, advising him that it was time for a change. He described the stabbing, comparing it to being punched, and shared his efforts to secure employment by applying to 300 jobs. Unfortunately, rejections persisted due to the charge on his record, which hadn't yet expired.

I tried helping him find work, even attempting to secure a job at the airport, but he faced rejection after a criminal record check. Following this setback, he lost hope and returned to his old ways. Our last conversation at the beginning of the year ended with no further contact. Then, out of the blue, my brother entered my room and conveyed the news that Guleed had died after being stabbed again. Confusion overwhelmed me, and I struggled to process the reality. It felt unreal, and I found myself making excuses, hoping he had survived, as he had before. This was a new and bewildering experience for me, as I had never lost a friend or anyone close to me from death. He did not even die from Gang or enemy attack, his morocaan firend got beaten up by somali guy and recorded that i knew and met couple times in area tall lanky kid year younger it was humilation and moroccan guy told guleed so guleed felt some type of way since it would make him look bad too and previously guleed robbed coat of the somali guys friend.

Nevertheless, Guleed's mom arranged a taxi for him to visit the Moroccan guy's house and gather some belongings. Unbeknownst to Guleed, the Somali guy who had previously attacked his friend lived in the same area. It seems there was trash-talking and threats exchanged between Guleed and the Somali guy. Guleed, relying on his strength, size, and pride, was unaware that the Somali guy was carrying a knife. The Somali guy, who had not been involved in drugs or a troubled lifestyle until that year, felt threatened and scared during their confrontation. In an impulsive act of self-defence, he stabbed Guleed twice in the chest. Despite regretting the action and likely not intending to cause such harm, Guleed's fate was sealed by that fatal encounter. In a turn of events, the Somali kid turned himself in at the police station, confessing that he didn't mean to kill Guleed. While his intentions might have been different, the consequence of his actions resulted in the loss of two lives and irreversible ruin. 2 fellow Somali brothers lives ruined one death and another will probably get life.

Despite the emotional devastation, Guleed's mother found solace in the fact that her son did not take another life, which could have jeopardized their family and burdened him with an even greater sin. In our last conversation, she expressed a sense of peace. Despite all efforts made by her and those around Guleed, it became apparent that one cannot assist someone who is unwilling to help themselves. Guleed's father, being a significant influence on his life, played a role in the tragic trajectory. It raises questions about why he didn't take decisive actions, such as relocating Guleed after the first stabbing. Curiously, he had the courage to mourn at the funeral but seemingly lacked the initiative to intervene earlier in his son's troubled life.

I penned down these words to channel my emotional distress. During the funeral, I longed to shed tears, but a peculiar confusion enveloped me. I felt a sense of disconnect, questioning whether my heart had hardened due to sins. While others around me could cry and express their sorrow, I, who intimately knew Guleed the best and most even better then his father and shared countless memories with him, found myself unable to shed a tear. The complexity of emotions left me grappling for understanding. For the first time in my life, I witnessed a Janazah—Guleed's Goliath-like frame shrouded, and the strength of numerous men required to lower him into a grave, shallow yet deep. Fear overwhelmed me more than sadness; all I felt was pity. The stark realization hit me—he didn't reach 20, he won't have a family, won't savor those foods again, or engage in those playful games. The prospect of my own mortality loomed, leaving me with an indescribable sense of melancholy.


Oh Guleed If only you had followed me and not them, but “Verily, you guide not whom you like, but Allah guides whom He wills."

 

[Yaraye]

 

[techsamatar]

View attachment 306781

No need too malawax, Writing down my thoughts is a means for me to grasp at emotions, a reminder that one can only save someone who genuinely seeks salvation.

 

[Nass010]

First off all Aun to ur friend, these type of situations seem all start by clueless fathers. Who are not invested in their sons life.

 

[Internet Nomad]

I was going to write its a shame that we have brothers who squander the opportunity of a lifetime given to us by our parents who fled a country which was in ruin to give us the opportunity we have now that we take for granted but just a small glimpse of how people are doing in somalia is the exact same situation.


When Allah says

Indeed mankind, to his Lord, is ungrateful. And indeed, he is to that a witness.

We are often blinded by pursues of honour, material possessions or women that we forget that the only thing we take to the grave is the deeds we worked for.

 

[Internet Nomad]

When you said that you were confused that you didn’t shed a tear. It’s normal for someone to feel delayed remorse about a sad event.

Sometimes it takes a while for the mind to grasp the situation.

I had a similar reaction when a family member passed away.

 

[Avalanche]

I have heard so many similar stories from where I live, it’s very unfortunate patterns that’s happening with our people. I feel so bad for the mother, imagine all the stress she must have suffered through and then him dying illahay naxaristo Our people need to wake up.

 

[Sigmundd]

Wow sad way to an end. Indeed it is only Allah that can guide us to the straight path and no one else not even prophets, angels no one. I fear for my middle sister who is depressed and doesn't pray no matter what I say she doesn't listen. I make dua to Allah for her to be guided as only Allah can do that. Its scary to think you can't do anything just like prophet Nuh who tried to change his son for the better but never grasped Nuh words and drowned.