This is Osama’s story
Osama Adnan Abu Kwaik was a beloved father, brother and friend. He was gunned down on Friday at the Al-Noor Mosque in Christchurch. This is Osama’s story, recounted by his brother Youssef Adnan Abu Kwaik, to Charlie Mitchell.
Osama’s story cannot be told without starting from its origin: our father. We come from a Palestinian origin. Our city was attacked before the declaration of Israel in 1948. This is when my grandfather was killed while defending the city.
My father became an orphan at the age of 4. They walked all the way from Lydda to Gaza, where he was taken care of by his uncles and my grandmother.
He went to Egypt to study at the age of 16. While he was studying in 1967, Israel attacked Egypt and Gaza, stranding my dad with no resources in Egypt.
He was declared a refugee, a title that stuck all the way to Osama and his children.
Osama was born in 1981, and spent his childhood and teenage years in Cairo. He studied engineering at October 6 University [in Cairo] followed by a masters of engineering at the American University, also in Cairo.
As Palestinians, we heavily invest in education, which is a lesson that refugees learn early, in order to justify and carry our own weight.
He worked at Etisalat [an Egyptian communications company] and climbed the ladder until he became a project manager.
Three years after the Arab Spring, Osama was called into his manager’s office and was told the government had issued an order to all communications companies to discharge all Palestinian and Syrian workers.
He couldn’t find a job in his field afterwards, obviously. He was already married with two baby girls at that point. He got a job that paid much less, and wasn’t befitting his background, to provide for his family.
That’s when Osama started talking about immigration.
This wasn’t the Osama that I knew, I thought at the time.
Osama never left Egypt, except to visit Gaza. To live away from family was completely out of character. But it was understandable. He needed to provide for his family. The girls were growing, and he wanted to provide the best education.
The main rule for refugees: lift your weight.
He used all his savings in applying to go to New Zealand.
The plane tickets ate up all the remaining cash Osama had left after two years of low salary.
With support from dad, he landed in Christchurch and he fell in love with New Zealand and the Kiwi people.
He was genuinely in love with the city and its people.
He couldn’t stop telling me how hospitable the people are.
He couldn’t stop taking photos from places in the city.
I had never seen my brother happier, and I was grateful for New Zealand bringing joy to my beloved brother.
He started looking for labour jobs, and got a job in a factory that packages items. He called me and said ‘‘you can cut off the aid, I’m self sustaining now’’.
‘‘It’s not my perfect job,’’ Osama said, ‘‘but I’ll keep looking in the meantime.’’
He was happy that he reached this stage. It was a milestone. Within a couple of years, he wouldn’t be a refugee any more.
He started getting to know the Arab, Egyptian and Palestinian communities in Christchurch. They provided help and support, and attended cultural events together.
Some were friends with him before he moved to New Zealand, and others he made friends with in New Zealand.
He bought a car and got his drivers licence. He had a new baby, an all New Zealand-born boy, who is not a refugee.
This is how his life was before it ended.
If you saw how polite his children are, and how wonderful his wife is, you would immediately understand what kind of a father and husband Osama was.
He was truly one of a kind. I’m not saying this because he is my brother. He never used foul words. He was always praying. Always doing the right thing. Always helpful to others. He never cared about politics but always cared about people.
I have never been to New Zealand. But now, New Zealand will always have a piece of me buried in it.
Can you tell Osama’s story? Can you tell the world that my father was made an orphan, and that he and his children were made refugees, and then his grandchildren lost their father?
Can you tell everyone that the whole, wide world is too small for us?