Isam Al-Hajj... We Will Not Smile for the Picture Again!
Mohammed Abdul Majid
God Almighty says: (And if Allah should touch you with adversity, there is no remover of it except Him; and if He intends for you good, then there is no repeller of His bounty. He causes it to reach whom He wills of His servants. And He is the Forgiving, the Merciful.) [Al-Anam: 17]
We praise and thank Him in all circumstances, repent to Him, and ask Allah Almighty to grant us patience in the face of adversity and to keep us steadfast in contentment and praise. He is the only one to be praised in times of hardship. Praise be to Allah, the Lord of all worlds. There is no power or strength except through Allah. O Allah, may our best deeds have the best endings.
The picture has been associated with flowers, joy, weddings, and happy moments. We used to hold a bouquet of flowers when we posed for pictures, looking our best!! This was a tradition deeply rooted in studios. Perhaps thats why Zeidan Ibrahim sang, Between the flowers, I am posing. We only knew how to smile in front of the camera, frowning at everyone else except the photographer, whom we always forget carries our pain and sorrows with them. Its been said that Sudanese people smile at two things: the camera and the bank window. But now, the picture is closely tied to smoke, ammunition, fragments, and pain!
Abdullah Yunus, Abbas Azat, Yahya Shalka, Jahori, Ibrahim Hamed, Mohammed Dafallah, Mohammed Ismail, Abu Bakr Sharsh, Ashraf Kamal, Saeed Abbas, Mubarak Hatta, Kola, Issaam Al-Hajj, Ali Jun, and others from the camera holders. We used to smile in front of them, forgetting our pains in the presence of their cameras. There is no sane person who doesnt smile in front of the camera. We mourn ourselves and all photographers for our tragic loss.
The picture in our lives is an important focal point and a significant turning point. We remember this from our national ID picture, the Sudan School Certificate exams picture, the university application picture, the passport picture, and when you reach this point, you take a big step towards the future, until you reach the wedding picture, which is the most important point in your life, or the snapshot that takes you to the nest of matrimony.
All these pictures hold value, which is why photographers have gained utmost importance in our lives. The picture remains the only means through which we express and document.
The picture among loved ones holds great value, serving as a pivotal point in defining the relationships continuation or termination. Thats why Wardi sang, You promised and withheld the picture, and Abdullah Al-Bayou sang, Your fearful picture. And Abdul Azim Haraka sang, The pictures, I have them, etc.
Therefore, we are among those who hold a lot of love and appreciation for our fellow photographers, and we understand the value and importance of their work.
Just a few days ago, the photographer Ali Jun was lost. He was a wonderful platform for photography. He lost his wife in the clashes of Omdurman and his only son was injured while they were at home.
On Sunday, August 20, we lost the photographer Issaam Al-Hajj... Issaam Al-Bawqah, who was reportedly injured due to clashes around armored vehicles in Al-Shajarah.
For the poet Al-Vituri, in this context, there is an unhealable wound. I lean on it to graze my sorrows and lean on it in times like these pains, as he says in this situation:
(From whichever seas of the world you ask me, O beloved
About a whale
Its legs are like rock
Its eyes are like rubies
About clouds of fire
And islands of coral
About a dead carrying his own corpse
And rushing where he dies
Dont marvel, O ruby
The greatest of a mans fate is the human).
Yes, the current situation can be described by this (about a dead man carrying his body and rushing where he dies).
Our deaths have carried their bodies.
And the greatest of a mans fate is the human!!
The maestro Sanhuri passed away and was buried in front of his house. He was an artist who brought joy and happiness to people with the strings of his laughing violin.
The path to Sanhuris house now passes by his grave. He was buried in front of his doorstep.
Doctor Alaa Fawzi Al-Marzuki, Abdulaziz Abu Shanab, Hassan Barkia, Ali Jens wife, photographer Essam Al-Haj, and dozens, perhaps thousands, in Darfur and Khartoum have died from injuries sustained while in their homes.
If only I had the ability and knowledge to write about each person who left us in this way.
This death that occurs through friendly fire, meaning that the victims are not targeted intentionally, even then, friendly fire claims all these lives.
During the Coalitions War against Iraq, American forces caused significant injuries among British soldiers, even though the American forces were targeting the Iraqi army. This prompted a mocking comment from an English newspaper, in light of the increasing frequency of friendly fire: We dont know why Bush chose Iraq for the war with Britain? And these [British soldiers] are fighting their own people.
When we write about these individuals and mention some names, particularly our colleague Essam Al-Haj, we are writing about a thousand Essams, killed in the same manner in Darfur and Khartoum. Every part of the country has become susceptible to death in the same manner.
Those who die from friendly fire must be absolved by friendly pens for what friendly fire has done to the Sudanese people.
The Caliph Umar ibn Al-Khattab, may Allah be pleased with him, the one who filled the earth with justice and light, who bore the burden of concern when a pack animal stumbled in Iraq, would wait for his shirt to dry before leading the Friday prayer, wearing it as he delivered the sermon. He was the Commander of the Faithful who shook the thrones of Persia and Rome and held their reigns, who conquered the Levant, Iraq, and Egypt, and whose conquests extended across three continents. The narrations tell us that Umar ibn Al-Khattab, may Allah be pleased with him, was delayed one Friday. He had the people waiting for him in the mosque until he arrived late. Then he ascended the pulpit and apologized for his delay, saying that he was slowed down by waiting for his shirt to dry, as he didnt have another shirt besides that one.
What do you want from this world that youve turned into a hell for us? Isnt there among you a wise person?
This is the life of Omar, which distinguished between truth and falsehood, and the Quran agreed with him in multiple instances, to the point that the Messenger of Humanity, sent as a mercy to all worlds, said about him: Truth is on the tongue of Omar and in his heart.
In compassion, kindness, gentleness, and fear for the worshipers, and in treating them with kindness and justice, our master Omar ibn Abdul Aziz was also a companion in affability towards people. His son Abdul Malik asked him: Why dont you enforce matters with force? Omar said: Dont rush, my son. Allah criticized alcohol in the Quran twice and prohibited it in the third instance. I fear that if I impose the truth on people all at once, they will reject it all at once.
He even feared carrying the truth too forcefully. So what about those who have carried against us rifles, explosives, anti-aircraft weapons, and shells, looting houses, cars, and aid?
Omar ibn Abdul Aziz did not employ violence for the sake of truth! He employed it with gentleness. And the mercy of God always encompasses us with this tenderness.
By your Lord, what do you say in this time when explosives and shells reach citizens in their homes? What will be your defense on the day when hearts reach throats and one flees from their brother, mother, father, spouse, and children, and people stand equally, with no one honored except by their piety, to be held accountable? Their tongues, hands, rifles, and pens will testify against them for what they have done to people.
The media colleague Essam Al-Hajj, the photographer (the human being) in every sense of the word, we lost him in the clashes on Sunday between the army and the Rapid Support Forces in the attack launched by the latter on the armored vehicles.
I believe he died while hoping for this accursed war to end.
I dont know where the audacity came from for that shell to strike his pure body, he who was like butterflies, working with lightness and peace.
I used to watch him in matches before the advent of modern technology that allowed them to send photos to the newspaper from the stadium. I used to watch him, concerned with reaching the newspapers headquarters to deliver the photos and get them ready before the newspaper went to print.
I worked alongside him at Goon newspaper. He would write and edit the news and take photographs.
My last encounter with him was at Al-Hilal Stadium during one of Al-Hilals friendly matches last season against Simba or Ashanti. I met him in the media section at Al-Hilals box. He spoke to me with the kindness he was known for, his soft-spoken manner, and his ever-present smile as he talked. He was always busy serving others, even while carrying his camera during matches or during his official work hours. He was active in public service, to the point that he sometimes neglected his personal work.
He wore his apron, carried his camera, shared his smile, and served others. His calm demeanor and precise words provided solace and comfort to us.
I dont know what to write as I am overwhelmed with confusion and distraction, watching the sky of Khartoum as it weeps its clouds like an infant child on the night of his loss. Khartoum has rained sorrow, shedding tears.
For Badr Shaker Al-Sayab, there is another vast expanse:
(How many tears did we shed on the night of departure, then we covered ourselves out of fear of being blamed by the rain...
Rain...
Rain...).
About the Lebanon war, the writer Ghada Al-Samman once wrote in one of her articles:
Yet we hold ourselves accountable before sleep: Did we remove our masks? Did we criticize someone? Did we kill anyone? Did we speak the truth? Every morning we wake up amazed: Are we still alive? How did we not die yesterday? We search the obituaries and are amazed: Where is our name?
Essam Al-Hajj, this young man who loved his country and held its soil sacred, we lost him in that accursed war.
By God, I am still slow in writing this column and hesitate, hoping that there will be a denial of the news of his death. I dream that the news of Essam Al-Hajjs death is (a rumor) born from the ideas of social media platforms or the deceptions of war.
I know that death is a reality that we all face, there is no doubt in that, and every soul has an appointed time, and when Allahs decree comes, it cannot be delayed. But I hope that Essam Al-Hajjs time has not come yet, whether its a wound or an injury. We have not yet had our fill of Essams humanity and his creations, his radiant presence, his warmth, and his eloquent speech.
But it seems that the days have come to an end, and the appointed time has arrived, and Essam Al-Bawqa departed with that sorrowful (image).
I understand the grief of many who have lost their loved ones and dear ones in those wars that infiltrate our homes. I realize that we share in this grief, and indeed, our wounds are deep and profound. We have suffered a great loss in Khartoum, Al-Junaynah, Nyala, Kaduqli, and El Fula.
We lost one, and our affliction is great.
Among those we have also lost in these days is the great athlete and social figure Mustafa Tawfiq. The extraordinary figure of Al-Merrikh and the skilled administrator who represented and voiced Al-Merrikh in all matters, including the breaths he sighed and exhaled.
Oh God, have mercy on your servant Mustafa Tawfiq and accept him with a good acceptance. Oh God, we ask for healing and well-being for our global football teacher, Professor Mamoun Al-Tahir.
Likewise, we draw the attention of the government of Al-Jazira State and the benefactors in the land of affliction (Medani) that the photographer Jahwari Tafrikum is ill. Reach out to him and visit him, for he is a blessing among you.
Oh God, accept Essam Al-Hajj and all those we have lost in that accursed war with mercy and forgiveness. Oh God, protect Sudan and its people, lift the affliction, and do not hold us accountable for the foolishness done by some of us and among us.
Our last prayer is that all praise is due to God, the Lord of all worlds.
