RIP Mohammed Nabbous

Last Friday night, I was driving home from work, listening to my beloved Radio National.  A young journalist named Mohammed Nabbous was being interviewed from Benghazi in Libya.  He was brave and engaged and passionate about the freedom he and his countrypeople wanted.  I was inspired by his strength and admired his belief in freedom and democracy - something which (at times) I take for granted.  The interviewer asked him whether he was scared as if was known that Gaddafi's troups were closing in on Benghazi.  His answer 'there are 300,000 of us, he can't kill us all'.

As I approached Melbourne, there were three army helicopters circling over the city.  They were so low that I could see the men inside the open doors.  Instead of being scared, I marvelled at the technology and wondered what they were doing?  It occured to me that if I was a woman in Libya, right then, I would be petrified for my life.

Over the weekend, at a beautiful wedding full of love and joy, I thought of Mohammed Nabbous, his family, his wife - who is expecting their first child, their fellow countrypeople and wondered how this would all turn out?  I sent them love and peace and prayers - in that mad way that only a confused aethiest can.

This evening, Radio National announced that Mohammed had been shot by a sniper yesterday and was dead.  He was 28 years old.  His baby is due in a few weeks and his wife is left, in Benghazi - fearing for her life and the future of her child.  She is continuing his work - asking for people to keep filming and getting the story of what is happening to the Libyan people out into the world.

I am crying as I write this as I can't get this young family out of my mind. I don't know this woman, Perditta, but I wish I did.  I wish I could bring her and her family to our home and make them tea.  Give them a safe and warm place to sleep.  A hospital she could have her baby in - with dignity and proper medical support.  A place to grieve her lost love and then the support to get on her feet and help her broken country up. 

I send her love.  Peace.  And the message that I, too, am grieving for the loss of her husband.  Rest In Peace, Mohammed Nabbous.