By Maryama Dahir
Photo from Philando Castile march by Eliesa Johnson
My aunt passed away on the 27th of November in 2015 from a combination of health failures. They told us her blood was attacking her body until her body eventually stopped looking like a body. She had been admitted to the hospital a few days after we had celebrated Eid al-Adha. Two months later we were organizing her funeral.
Eid, a Muslim holiday, only comes twice a year and growing up I had seen it as a combination of Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and all the other holidays we publicly acknowledge to celebrate in the United States. In other words it’s the only time I got to see my entire family. Last year I saw my family three times.
I had only planned to deal with the absence of my aunt when they* had finally announced Tuesday night that the first Eid of 2016 was going to be July 6th. As the tweets, Facebook messages, and calls from family were coming in wishing us a happy Eid and the prayers for blessings from God were being recited, Alton Sterling was also trending. I ignored it. I was only meant to be dealing with the loss of my aunt the following day.
As a Black Muslim woman who deals with racism, islamophobia, and misogyny I should have known that I could never have the privilege to ignore things, not because I can’t—I sure could but only at the cost of my sanity—but because I am always hyperaware of what is going on around me to the people who share my skin color, my gender, and my religion.
Around twilight of Eid, Philando Castile had already been pulled over for a broken taillight in Falcon Heights, Minnesota. Philando Castile had already warned the officer that he had a license to carry and that he was reaching for his wallet not his gun. Philando Castile had already been shot four times . Philando Castile was already dead.
My friends and I heard the news while we drove around eating Insomnia cookies.
When I tried to go to sleep at 2 a.m. I couldn’t because I had watched the video that documented the murder of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile in one sitting. I would get a glimpse into the life of a true insomniac that early morning before the sun rose.
This is all to say that I couldn’t grieve only for the loss of my aunt in the surrounding comfort of family this past holiday. Instead, I grieved for three lost lives at a time meant for celebration. I am still grieving.
*There exists a council of people who study the moon and its cycles. Because Muslims follow a lunar calendar, we don’t know when exactly Eid day is until this council has sighted the moon and announces it.