You say you ain't racist but i know the colour of my skin & the language that i speak bothers you.

I now know what racism means. I now know what a racist attack is. And I now realise just how much of a hardened heart full of hatred these racists have. You say you ain't racist but i know the colour of my skin & the language that i speak bothers you, so what you gonna do? Do you wanna smash my head in with a hammer too?

My little brother of 13 years was recently a victim of a racist attack. He was simply attacked because he was assumingly “Paki” and not of white colour skin. He was hit on the head with a hammer; causing the bone which protects the brain to break off and fall to the back of the brain. As his head shattered, our hearts shattered too. He was transferred to Great Ormond Street Hospital where he required emergency surgery which only by the Grace and Mercy of Allah [swt] was a success.

My brother is a normal teenager; he came home from school on a typical Friday afternoon. Only 13, he prays all his five prayers and he had just prayed Asr and salaamed Mum and said he’s going to meet his friends in the Square before going to his football training. He went into Gregg’s to get something to eat while his friends waited for him outside and during those few minutes, little did those kids know that they would be getting chased and abused, both physically and verbally, by another group of kids. While one white boy chased his friends, my brother stepped out of the shop and another white boy yelled out “Paki, you Paki” and before he knew it, the hammer fell on his head. Instinctively, he knew that if he fell to the floor, he would either faint or become unconscious, so he spun around and grabbed onto a pole which he used to balance himself while a crowd gathered to help him. All his friends, teachers from the school and members of the public ran to him and guided him into our house. During this, his friend told his Mum who called my Mum and told her and I could only just feel my mother’s pain. She yelled out my name and said T got hurt and ran out of the house leaving my youngest brother with me. I initially thought he probably fell and hurt himself or got beaten up by hand and as I shut the door and ran up to grab my keys and phone so I could follow my Mum, I saw her walking back home, another lady holding onto my brother while Mum’s tears were inconsolable. I looked at my brother and asked him if he’s okay, naively staring into his face and only just hearing him whisper the words “I’m okay, I’m okay” and it was at that moment, as I turned to let him into the door that I saw the thick blood stuck onto the left side of his face and his clothes. I sat him down on the sofa, asked him twice if he’s feeling okay and beyond that point, I had lost control of any humanity; all I could scream was “who the f*** did this to my brother, which pig hurt my baby brother?” As I pushed past my brother’s friends and other neighbours, I was grabbed and stopped from getting out of the house; the thoughts that ran through my head during those moments are unrepeatable. Before, I had never ever had any ill thoughts about individuals who have racist views; who cannot see past one’s skin colour, religion or culture, but today, I look around me and I cannot help but feel not hatred, but pity for those kind of people. There are people out there who speak of words along the lines of “I’m not racist, everyone’s equal” yet when they look at others, indeed they feel a sense of superiority and perhaps a better sense of belonging in this “white country” but with all due respect, this country promotes equality between every single person and if these people don’t agree with this then frankly, you are the ones who should get the eff out.

Every single day my brother keeps repeating “I feel like this is just a bad dream and I’m not waking up”. I don’t blame him; at 19 years of age even I can’t grasp onto the reality of what has happened. The boy who attacked him was a kid himself, 14 years old, only one year older than my brother. He got caught that night and the saddest thing is that he shows no remorse whatsoever, he is not even sorry for what he has done. In fact, this twisted kid is proud of the fact that he harmed another person; he’s actually going around boasting to others of his kind I presume, that he hit a boy with a hammer. I’ve always nurtured my feelings about racist people, I always thought to myself whatever you know, let them think what they think, it’s their problem… but when something like this happens on your doorstep it makes you think twice and doubt your thoughts.

I wish I could see the boy who did this or even his family, just to see what kind of people they are to allow their child to run around with a hammer in his hand and to think it’s okay. I know they’re not nice people but only Allah can judge them. I just think if they had any common decency, they would’ve come forward and apologised to us for the damage the boy has caused. I truly believe that the best form of justice will be given by Allah [swt] but I do want the boy put away for as long as possible, not only because of what happened to my brother, but also because I do not EVER want anything of this sort to happen to any other person whatsoever. After this settles down and some form of normality becomes our routine once again, I will do something myself to raise awareness of the effects of racism and to ensure that people of all ages – children, teenagers, adults and those of old age – know about the precautions they should take to be safe.

I’ve been trying to find many sources of blame, but I believe what happened, only happened for a reason. This is one of the calamities that were destined to be, it is a test of all of our faith and trust. I think my Dad, at one point said something along the lines of “if he was more cleverer, he would’ve ran"; but my brother is probably one of the most intellectual and smartest person I know and everybody knows this too. It was at that instance where my brother’s innocence shone; he had absolutely no idea that he would be the target of such an attack. And even if he did run; he would still be stuck because the surrounding area had railings all around. This incident happened in the best possible way it could’ve happened to us; I realise Allah saved us from a bigger disaster, imagine if it had been a knife or a gun that my brother was attacked with. Only Allah saved him from the worst, Alhamdulillah.

The next day I aimlessly wandered the area for a bit, I saw just how dead the Square seemed, totally contradicting the happy, joyous atmosphere we normally have in the Square. Since we moved here almost three years ago, we made a vast number of friends who have become practically family to us, and these people are not just of our own colour and religion. We have wonderful English, Somalian neighbours and friends, and my brother, from the first day he started in his new school, immediately clicked with a group of boys, who are totally amazing. I see his friends as my own little brothers; the friendship and brotherhood between these boys brings tears to my eyes. Even with this incident, the way his friends have stuck by him, some even started blaming themselves and saying they could’ve done more to help my brother, but these tiny kids themselves were being chased. It’s funny, for the past few days, Mum’s been having these feelings, call it a mother’s intuition, that something bad might befall us but never did she begin to contemplate that it would be something like this. I've realised i'm a lot like my Mum - whenever she's stressed/angry/upset, she starts cleaning and tidying up and when i came home the night after my brother's operation, i saw myself washing up plates that had already been washed, tidying up the living room which was pretty much tidied and wiping away my brother's blood from the passage walls.. i guess people do deal with different things in different ways.

Only just a few days ago I was telling a few of my friends about this beautiful hadith; that those with the strongest imaan have the greatest tests in life and those with weak imaan have light trials and indeed, Allah [swt] tests the ones He loves the most. I find great comfort in those words and I thank Allah for helping us through this; and I know the dua’s of every one of us, all our family and our friends, got us through this painful time.

*On a positive note, and before the questions reside: my brother's operation went really well and he came home on Sunday evening; he's recovering pretty well. Truly, all Praise is due to Allah, Lord of the Worlds; the Most Beneficient, the Most Merciful. Ameen.