‘It is like putting salt on the cut again’
For Muslim families, especially those who have lost loved ones, this year will be difficult. Already, two weeks before the anniversary service, a threat on an encrypted chat app accompanied by a photograph of a masked man in a car outside the Al Noor Mosque in Christchurch was posted anonymously to more than 2000 followers.
On Wednesday, Canterbury police searched a Christchurch address in relation to the threat and a 19-yearold man was charged on an unrelated matter. Canterbury district commander Superintendent John Price said the sharing of the image was causing significant distress and anxiety within the community. “This type of imagery has no place in Aotearoa New Zealand. It is abhorrent and will not be tolerated.” He said the image had been referred to the chief censor to ascertain whether it should be classified as objectionable material.
Anjum Rahman, spokesperson for the Islamic Women’s Council of New Zealand, says they were expecting this “and possibly worse things”. She says racist and xenophobic extremists had been “emboldened” by the March 15 attack.
As well as the one-year anniversary this month, the royal commission of inquiry is expected to finally deliver its report in April and the man accused of the shootings will stand trial in June.
“So, this year will be a traumatic year for the community,” says Rahman.
“We understand why [the anniversary events] need to happen, but it is more for the wider communities; it is more of a national collective grief. For a lot of Muslims, it is not something we do – people have passed; reliving that is not something [people] feel comfortable with.”
Even for people who have been coping reasonably well, says Clare Shepherd, project leader for Mana Ake, a mental-health and well-being programme for schools, “The anniversary, the trial – sometimes these are trigger points for some people.” Although some people needed immediate help to settle and realign themselves, “We don’t know what to expect or how often people will need to access support over time. So let us just watch and learn and be ready.”
A Canterbury District Health Board review of international literature on mass shootings, particularly in the US, Finland and Norway, shows about a third of children and young people exposed to a life-threatening event will experience symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder during the first two years, with level of exposure, emotional sensitivity, lack of expressive ability, gender, immigrant status and poor family and social supports all contributing to the risk.
But the situation in Christchurch is unique. The perpetrator live streamed the attacks on social media, thereby multiplying the number of “witnesses”. The victims were targeted in mosques, a venue normally associated with peace and security; and there was a delay for families to receive the bodies of those killed (rapid preparation of bodies for burial is integral to Muslim funerals).
Many of the survivors also have a history as refugees. “So they were reliving trauma they have already had,” says Rahman.
And it took time to build the required cultural competency and gender balance in the health workforce. Psychiatrist, GP and Muslim mental-health researcher
Her three-year-old daughter has been told her father is in “God’s house”. “We don’t tell her anything about [the shootings]. We can protect her from that information.
Khalid Shah is part of a multidisciplinary advisory group set up to help the Government and social-service agencies provide culturally and psychologically appropriate services to those affected by the shootings.
“The love and the support, the people making a human shield around the mosque – that helped initially. But it takes a long time to get through this – there is still a lot of unmet need.”
Children in particular, he says, will pick up on their parents’ fear. “And any insecurity in the house adds to the fear. Children born in New Zealand and who grew up in New Zealand – their understanding is different from their parents who migrated here. They will hear about these things, but it can be difficult to encourage parents to allow children to discuss them – people don’t come forward and talk about the mental-health issues.”
Amna Ali will not be taking her three children to any remembrance service marking one year since her husband, software engineer Syed Jahandad Ali, had his life taken from him. Her five-year-old daughter, who has autism, is unaware of what happened. Her 15-month-old son is too young. Her threeyear-old daughter has been told her father is in “God’s house”.
“We don’t tell her anything about
[the shootings]. We can protect her from that information; we don’t show her any pictures. When they understand everything, when they are going to college or university, then I can tell them. The three-year-old asked a lot of questions but now she has forgotten, I think, or she doesn’t ask. That is why I don’t take my kids to the anniversary – they show these pictures, hard pictures.
“They are all in a good place – that is what we believe, this is what comforts us. Otherwise, it is very hard. Some people say after time passes your pain will be gone
– I don’t think so. It never finishes. It is always in our heart.”
Twelve months ago, Sheikh Afraz told the Listener he would not be telling his young children why their father was away supporting the many family members of the Muslim community in Christchurch. “I don’t want them to have anything in their minds,” he said then. “Not this shock, not this trauma.” He won’t be attending any commemorative events, he says now. His children are still too young – they are eight and four – and he doesn’t want them to be pulled into feelings of fear or hatred. “We don’t want to remember that day – it was the worst nightmare for us. It happened, no one could have controlled it. Talking about it is like putting salt on the cut again.”
Now back living and working in Christchurch, Abdallah Alayan is inspired by the potential of architecture to heal wounds and promote well-being – physical, spiritual and social well-being – for those of all, or no, faiths. “We have a really conservative building sector and we are really pragmatic about things we design. That is something to be proud of – spending too much money on buildings is irresponsible when you think of all our social issues – but in saying that, there is a massive gap in poetic, narrative architecture.”
If the stars aligned – if a charitable organisation offered funding, if iwi were happy and the Department of Conservation gave the okay – Faith in Fiordland might one day be built. But in the meantime, Alayan is hopeful he will have the opportunity to put forward a proposal for a memorial. “I do have ideas for something that is pared back and poetic.”