When Fear Strikes Close to Home

When Fear Strikes Close to Home On Saturday, Maahir and Serena had an unsettling encounter that shook them both. If you've been following my posts, you may remember that Maahir was scammed some time ago. That experience was frustrating and upsetting, so when he saw something eerily similar happening right in front of him, it brought back a flood of emotions. He noticed a group of scammers attempting to deceive a couple near his home. When their attempt failed, Maahir approached the couple to find out what had happened. As he suspected, they had narrowly escaped a scam. Watching the scammers linger, waiting for their next target, Maahir felt compelled to act. He walked into a nearby hotel lobby and informed the staff about what was happening outside. The scammers quickly caught on to what he was doing. They followed him into the lobby, cornering him with threats and insinuating they could turn their attention to "your girlfriend," referring to Serena, who was standing outside with Mua. Alarmed, Maahir called Serena inside. Thankfully, the hotel security intervened, asking the scammers to leave. They did—but Maahir and Serena, shaken by the experience, chose to take the back entrance home just to be safe. When Maahir called us, I could hear the unease in his voice. My mind raced with what could have happened. I kept repeating, Thank God they weren’t hurt. That moment brought a realization crashing down on me—if anything had happened to them, I don’t know how I would have survived it. The thought paralyzed me. Last year, at this exact time, Sana was battling for her life after her transplant. She was in pain, delirious, and often asking for Maahir. She missed him terribly. During that time, all my prayers, my entire existence, revolved around her. I didn’t have the capacity to pray for anything else. But after Sana passed, I stopped praying altogether. What was left to ask for? What was left to hope for? Yet, in that moment, when fear gripped me again—this time for Maahir—I prayed. I didn’t ask for happiness or success or anything grand. I just asked for them to be safe. I asked for their health. It was the first time since losing Sana that I had allowed myself to ask for something. Grief changes everything—even the way we interact with fear, with faith, with hope. Perhaps, without realizing it, I have been waiting for a moment that would make me pray again. And that moment came when my son’s safety was on the line.