Islamic Stories,Rays of Sunshine

A True Story

Posted as received

*LIFE BATTLES*
*Fought by brave, young girls.*

Welcome to Banaatul Ummahs weekly motivation from the real life stories of young girls facing major challenges. Be inspired by their strength, perseverance and reliance in Allah.

For this week, let's look at the story of our 15 year old warrior, Zainab.

*TORN BETWEEN LOOSING A PART OF MY HEART AND A PART OF MY BODY*

(Reading time +- 6/7 minutes)

One rainy Sunday afternoon , a few years ago, we were driving on the N3 highway heading towards Durban. A few kilometres before the Marianhill toll, we hit a water patch. My dad lost control of the car. It spun a few times and landed into the barriers on the side of the road. All I remember, is the car spinning and trees on the windscreen. Everything else was a blur to me.

I then remember some paramedics pulling me out of the car, and I found myself lying on the side of the road. I was numb. They ripped off my cloak and Alhamdulillah, luckily for me, I was wearing a T-shirt underneath. They put me on a stretcher. As soon as I was placed into the ambulance, my sisters were there for me and they continued to read durood shareef and the kalimah.

I felt some pain in my ankle and with closed eyes, I begged them to rub my ankle. The paramedic asked them not to touch me and this frustrated me to the point that I lost consciousness.

Some time later, my eyes opened to the sound of beeping machines and bright lights. Where was I? After a long time, I realized that I was at a hospital. I saw a nurse and 2 doctors who had asked me a few questions. I was confused and afraid. I then saw my aunt, and chatting to her brought much calm to me, in the middle of my storm.

At midnight, I was wheeled into theatre with a team of 15 doctors and nurses who attended to me. They worked on me throughout the night. I was in a very critical condition. In fact, there were multiple times when they thought they had lost me. My chances of survival were slim, or so they thought.

For the next 2 days, I was in a coma. I remember crying when I woke up and the first thing I had asked for was my beloved mother. I then asked for my father and my sisters. When I saw them I asked : “Mummy?” and my father broke the most painful news to me: *"She has passed away"*.

That was the most heart breaking sentence I ever heard. My love, my life, my pillar of support, my strength, my confidant.

Somehow, I had a feeling she had passed away, but I needed someone to tell me it wasn't true.

I asked, sobbing: "Muhammed?" and before they could say anything, I told them that I knew he had passed away too. Muhammed was my four year old brother, who was the light of my life and delight of my heart. Little Muhammed had passed away at the accident site and was with my mummy.

While I was in hospital, every doctor and nurse would look at me and say *“This is our miracle child.”* I never understood why, until 2 weeks later when my father told me that when the mortuary van came, they said "There are three bodies". My vital signs were zero and all the lines were flat. I believe that this is a second chance of life gifted to me by Allah.

I was taken to theatre yet again. I had a deep cut on my right shoulder, I lost my left hand and broke my femur bone in 3 places. My thigh was ripped open and my ankle was crushed. I was given a high dosage of morphine, so Alhamdulillah I wasn’t in much pain. I was in hospital for a total of 35 days and visited theatre 13 times during my stay.

Physio was really painful. Some days, I would pretend to be asleep when the Physiotherapist arrived. At times, they would force me to do it and other times, they would leave me to sleep.