Is any grief keener than a parents?

I weep for and with this mother, whose son appears to have died in the terrorism attack of 7/7. Her grief is palpable. Her words and picture have brought me to tears.

My son Anthony is my first son, my only son, the head of my family. In African society, we hold on to sons. He has dreams and hopes and I, his mother, must fight to protect them. This is now the fifth day, five days on, and we are waiting to know what happened to him and I, his mother, I need to know what happened to Anthony…I need to know, I want to protect him. I’m his mother, I will fight till I die to protect him. To protect his values and to protect his memory.

Innocent blood will always cry to God Almighty for reparation. How much blood must be spilled? How many tears shall we cry? How many mothers’ hearts must be maimed? My heart is maimed. I pray I will see my son, Anthony. Why? I need to know, Anthony needs to know, Anthony needs to know, so do many others unaccounted for innocent victims, they need to know.

It’s time to stop and think. We cannot live in fear because we are surrounded by hatred. Look around us today. Anthony is a Nigerian, born in London, worked in London, he is a world citizen. Here today we have Christians, Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Hindus, all of us united in love for Anthony. Hatred begets only hatred. It is time to stop this vicious cycle of killing. We must all stand together, for our common humanity. I need to know what happened to my Anthony. He’s the love of my life. My first son, my first son, 26. He tells me one day, “Mummy, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die. I want to live, I want to take care of you, I will do great things for you, I will look after you, you will see what I will achieve for you. I will make you happy.’ And he was making me happy. I am proud of him, I am still very proud of him but I need to now where he is, I need to know what happened to him. I grieve, I am sad, I am distraught, I am destroyed.

He didn’t do anything to anybody, he loved everybody so much. If what I hear is true, even when he came out of the underground he was directing people to take buses, to be sure that they were OK. Then he called his office at the same time to tell them he was running late. He was a multi-purpose person, trying to save people, trying to call his office, trying to meet his appointments. What did he then do to deserve this. Where is he, someone tell me, where is he?”

This mother’s grief is so eloquent, and so easy with which to identify. My heart is broken for her…and for the mothers of these children, too…indeed, while the actions of terrorist in Iraq are somehow overlooked by most, it must be a scalding sort of pain for the mothers who voted in January, hoping to build democracy, risking their lives for that vote, to lose their children when they are simultaneous working for hope.

4 day old baby injured in terror attack. No infant should look this troubled.

Over and over, since the London bombing, I have had a sense, a hunch, a gut-feeling, that something would spring from this carnage – that the terrible loss of innocent life, THIS time, might be the catalyst, finally, for movement away from the stagnation of the past few years, away from the polarization that has one side primed for battle – any battle – and the other side wringing it’s hands and suggesting appeasement. Finally, some Muslims are beginning to speak up and object to these attacks. It is a beginning. It gives hope, even if this does not.

I pray that this mother finds consolation in God and in her faith. But I pray even more that this may all end. Soon. Please God, soon.

UPDATE: Mudville Gazette has more heart-wrenching reading on the deaths of children at the hands of terrorists.