For You, My Brother

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

IN THE NAME OF ALLAH, THE MOST GRACIOUS, THE MOST MERCIFUL.

إِنَّ الْحَمْدَ لِلَّهِ نَحْمَدُهُ وَنَسْتَعِينُهُ ونستغفره ونعوذ بالله من شرور أنفسنا ومن سيئات أعمالنا مَنْ يَهْدِهِ اللَّهُ فَلَا مُضِلَّ لَهُ وَمَنْ يُضْلِلْ فَلَا هَادِيَ لَهُ وَأَشْهَدُ أَنْ لَا إِلَهَ إِلَّا اللَّهُ وَحْدَهُ لَا شَرِيكَ لَهُ وَأَنَّ مُحَمَّدًا عَبْدُهُ وَرَسُولُهُ

Verily all praise is for Allah. We praise Him, seek His aid, ask His forgiveness, and seek refuge with Allah from the evils of ourselves and our evil actions. Whomever Allah guides, none can misguide, and whomever Allah misguides, none can guide. I bear witness that none has the right to be worshipped except Allah alone, without partner, and I bear witness that Muhammad ﷺ is His servant and His Messenger.

It took me more than five months to gather the courage to write this, my dear brother. Some days are stitched into the soul, forever etched into memory, returning again and again as if time itself refuses to move forward. I replay that day often, searching for meaning in its silence and its noise. Yet with Allah, even the heaviest moments are softened. He makes bearable what feels unbearable. He is the Lord of the heavens and the earth, the Lord of the universe, and to Him we return with hearts that ache but still believe. What followed that day marked the beginning of a long journey of grief, healing, deep spirituality, and gifts from Allah that I could never have imagined.

I remember the day of my graduation, the 26th of July, vividly. Early that morning, my mother called to tell me that you, my brother, who had been hospitalized and on oxygen support for two weeks, were extremely weak and in pain. From that moment, my heart carried a weight it did not know how to release. Throughout the day, I was deeply worried and struggled to remain present, despite my friends’ sincere efforts to distract me and check in on me. I am forever grateful for their kindness and care. In many of the photos from that day, I am smiling, but inside, I was breaking.

The graduation ceremony itself was beautifully organized. It was clear that both the university staff and students had long awaited this moment. For me, it was a significant milestone, made even more meaningful by the long journey across multiple countries to attain this medical degree. Yet a question kept echoing within me. How could I celebrate while you lay in a hospital bed, fighting pain and exhaustion? Our mother and relatives were by your side, praying relentlessly, quietly preparing for the possibility they feared most. That inner conflict followed me throughout the day. It deepened when I called home to check on you and heard our family summon strength they did not have, congratulating me and trying to make my heart lighter while theirs was shattering.

Around 2 a.m., after the post graduation gathering had ended, I returned to the apartment with my friends, reflecting on the day. My phone had been off and charging, but I suddenly felt an urge, almost a pull, to check on you. When I turned it on, I saw two missed calls from our mother and several messages in our family WhatsApp group. As I opened the chat, my eyes fell on the words, “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un”, meaning, “Indeed, we belong to Allah, and to Him we shall return.” In that instant, my chest tightened, my breath shortened, and disbelief took over. “What? Someone please call me. Is this true?” were the only words I could form.

I remember walking into the bathroom as tears streamed down my face. I made wudhu and prayed two rak‘ahs. SubhanAllah, during the prayer, I felt a brief stillness. My tears paused and my heart softened, but once the prayer ended, I cried in a way I never had before. Speaking to our mother on the phone was the hardest moment of all. I did not know how to console a parent who had just lost a child. There is no guidebook for such pain and no script for grief of this magnitude.

Alhamdulillah, in the days that followed, Allah wrapped me in a strength I did not know I possessed. I reached out to family members, shared your memories, and grieved together with those who loved you. The following day, one of our cousins video called me and showed me your face after your body had been washed and wrapped in the white burial cloth. You looked peaceful, your face radiant with noor, Masha’Allah. Even then, shock lingered within me. I could only whisper du‘a, asking Allah to forgive you, shower you with mercy, and grant you an easy and honorable journey into the hereafter.

The next few days after that, I could not even focus on the part time job I was doing to make ends meet. I eventually quit after realizing my mental health was deteriorating. Alhamdulillah, by Allah’s grace, I made the decision to come home and stay with our mother as I awaited my medical internship.

When I returned to Nairobi, the reality of your absence felt heavier as I met our relatives, each offering comfort and condolences. After about a week, I embarked on the journey to Jinja in Uganda, where you are buried. The closer I got to Jinja, the heavier my heart became, realizing you were no longer with us. I found some consolation in knowing wholeheartedly that Allah loved you more than we ever could. I also found peace and solace in prayers, duas, charities,Qur'an and patience Alhamdulillah.    Every person who spoke about you did so with admiration and gratitude, praising your character, Masha’Allah. You inspired me to follow your footsteps and create my own path toward our reunion in Jannah, by the will of Allah.

What I did not yet know was that this loss would become a doorway into deeper faith, profound healing, and blessings that could only come from Allah. This was not the end of the story but the beginning of a transformation that continues to unfold, one prayer, one tear, and one gift at a time. Four months after your death, I received an invitation to the Ka‘aba in Mecca, the House of Allah. I knew this was your dream I was living, and SubhanAllah, to make it even more beautiful, I went with our mother.

The journey to Saudi Arabia to perform Umrah is one I will never forget. Alhamdulillah for all the blessings Allah has bestowed upon me. I could have never asked for a better sibling than you, Mohammed. May Allah reunite us and all those who have lost their loved ones, grant us Jannatul Firdaus, protect us from the hellfire, and grant us patience to live on with Imaan.