The widows’ stories: ‘We’re hoping Immigration will help us for the baby’s future and her future’
A dozen fathers died in the Christchurch terror attacks, leaving behind grieving widows and young children, writes Cecile Meier.
‘‘It will be a difficult life without him but it was his will. He wanted to raise the children here.’’ – Asmaa Walid, pictured right, being comforted by friends
Asma Suhail’s husband, Suhail Shahid, was a ‘‘kind-hearted, smart and loving’’ man whose daughters were his life. He was one of the 50 who died in the Deans Ave and Linwood Ave mosque terror attacks, and Asma is now one of many grieving widows and mothers.
At least 12 of the dead had young children and babies, collectively leaving behind about 24 children aged under 18. The youngest was Ramiz Vora’s baby daughter, born a week before the shooting. Mohammed Omar Faruk, 36, leaves behind a 19-year-old widow, Sanjida Neha, who is three months pregnant.
The widows’ situations are diverse. Some are left with no access to money, with little English and no driver’s licences. Others have degrees and jobs. In some cases a temporary visa was attached to the husband’s. Many, like Asma, were looking after young children at home before the attacks, but have qualifications and plans to find a job to support their family in this new life.
This week Asma was still anxiously waiting for Suhail’s body to be released. His burial was a priority. They hadn’t considered what financial assistance they were entitled to, and this was echoed by many families: calling helplines, filling out forms and sorting out visas was too much right now.
At Asma’s house, the Pakistani community came to pay their respects and offer support. Curtains were drawn. Food trays were laid on the floor and her two daughters, 2 and 5, played in another room. They had asked about their dad but the family hadn’t the heart to tell them the truth yet.
Asma had been in shock since the attacks, Suhail’s brother, Naveed Shahid, said. Last time she talked to her husband on the phone, on Friday morning as he left the office for his weekly mosque visit, he told her he would be home for lunch.
When Asma saw Suhail’s name was not on the list of injured, she was so distraught her blood pressure dropped and she was admitted to hospital. ‘‘She went into shock,’’ Naveed said. His death was confirmed last Sunday.
Asma, who qualified as a pharmacist in Pakistan, was due to take a driving test this week; her new car was waiting in the driveway. She had plans to register as a pharmacist but the expensive, time-consuming process is on hold. Suhail was making a good living as a chemical engineer at resin manufacturer Hexion, so the financial loss will be significant. ‘‘She is a single mum now and will have to find a job to pay the rent and support her family.’’
Naveed described his brother as ‘‘humble, gentle and honest’’, who wanted a good life for his family. They moved to New Zealand in 2017. ‘‘That dream didn’t last long for him but he did give his family a good place to live.’’
Asma wants to stay, and continue her husband’s dream. ‘‘My life totally changed just in one day,’’ she later said. ‘‘Please pray for me.’’
Shakti, a group offering support and advocacy to migrant and refugee women, has had social workers and counsellors working long hours on the ground. Senior adviser Shila Nair said its resources were limited but they were doing their best. ‘‘We have a woman whose husband died and does not have money as his wallet and bank cards are in the car which has not yet been released to her.’’
Victim Support chief Kevin Tso said each deceased’s family – whether based here or overseas – was entitled to initial emergency payments of $15,000. Each hospitalised victim could receive $5000. More could be given for travel and accommodation, and Victim Support could help people apply. An ACC spokesman said everyone injured in the shootings, and the families of those who were killed, were entitled to ACC support, including funeral grants. Families of those working in New Zealand when they died were entitled to weekly compensation for five years, or until the youngest child turns 18.
Friends, flowers, cards and food baskets have filled Asmaa Walid’s Riccarton unit. Her husband, Osama Adnan Abu Kwaik, was killed in the attack. She was traumatised, friend Aliaa Elrefai said, but wanted to talk.
Osama was the family’s breadwinner and driver – Asmaa has no licence. She and her husband came to New Zealand in 2017, in search of a better life. The youngest of their three children, a son aged 16 months, was born in New Zealand, and is a citizen. Asmaa wants to stay. ‘‘It will be a difficult life without him but it was his will. He wanted to raise the children here.’’
Asmaa studied IT in Egypt and wants to retrain. She will need driving lessons first, and help improving her English, Aliaa said. Now, the Muslim community was taking care of her, but she would soon need help with rent, food and other expenses. She was unsure how to access that help.
Aliaa suggested having a social worker proactively visiting each victim’s family to assist would be helpful. Asmaa teared up describing her husband. ‘‘He was so kind, always smiling and caring for our children . . . It’s too hard.’’
Aliaa said Osama’s death was a ‘‘huge loss’’ for the Muslim community. His children knew he was in heaven and would not come back. ‘‘So much is lost. He was a very good father. He was loved. So much.’’
‘‘We have a woman whose husband died and does not have money as his wallet and bank cards are in the car which has not yet been released to her.’’ – Shila Nair
Asmaa’s two daughters, aged seven and five, felt safe after seeing the sea of flowers outside the Deans Ave mosque. ‘‘We have no hard feelings for New Zealand. It is our country. We feel loved and supported.’’
While Asma Suhail and Asmaa Kwaik have long-term visas, others face uncertainty.
Khushbu and Ramiz Vora’s first child was born a week before Ramiz was killed in the Masjid Al Noor. His dad Arif had arrived a month earlier with his wife Maysa from Gujarat to meet his granddaughter, and was killed, too.
Ramiz moved to New Zealand five years ago and Kushbu joined him a year later.
A family friend said Kushbu wanted to stay in New Zealand because it was Ramiz’s dream for their daughter. But her visa was dependent on her husband’s, and would expire in a few months. Her mother-in-law did not want to return to India without her husband either. The 54-year-old wants to stay permanently to be close to the only family she has left but her visitor’s visa expires soon.
Before taking maternity leave, Kushbu was working at Pita Pit and planned to return to work. Financially, things would be difficult without Ramiz, who was a Tegel process worker.
Kushbu and Maysa were too distraught to look into their visa and financial assistance options, the friend said. ‘‘The situation is
very hard for them. They try to be strong. We’re hoping Immigration will help us for the baby’s future and her future. It’s Ramiz’s wish.’’
Wives of the injured face their own challenges: Zekeriya Tuyan, shot through the chest in the Al Noor attack, is in intensive care. Zekeriya and his wife, Hamimah Ahmet, moved to New Zealand five years ago for Hamimah’s scholarship for a PhD in speech therapy. They have two sons, aged nine and four.
Hamimah returned to Singapore with the children to study but Zekeriya, who works in IT, couldn’t find work so stayed behind. He Skyped weekly with his family and travelled every six months to see them. Hamimah, who works as a speech and language therapist, is now here with the children indefinitely.
Wasseim Wasseim Alsati was shot three times at the Masjid Al Noor mosque. His 4-year-old daughter, Alen, was also shot and is in Auckland’s Starship hospital in critical condition. Wasseim had multiple surgeries before being transferred to Auckland City Hospital. His wife Asma Daraghmeh is by their daughter’s side at Starship. The couple have three other children.
This week the Government was called on to guarantee residency to affected families. No commitment has come yet, but Immigration NZ said they could access longer-term visas, so they had time to sort their situation. Its priority was to contact victims and immediate family members to discuss their immigration status.