In this latest #SliceOfGasant, Gasant Abarder reflects on an evening of prayer for the safe return of the four Moti Brothers of Polokwane – some thousands of kilometres away from where they were so cruelly kidnapped more than a fortnight ago.
Abarder, who recently launched his book, Hack with a Grenade, is among the country’s most influential media voices. Catch his weekly column here, exclusive to Cape {town} Etc.
Every night, when I tuck my kids into bed, we say a little prayer. My heart sinks when I switch off their bedroom lights and I think of the four young Moti brothers from Polokwane who were kidnapped more than a fortnight ago.
Where are they? Do they have enough to eat and drink? Are they safe and healthy? Can the hearts of their kidnappers thaw long enough for them to call off their wicked plan for a ransom or whatever the motive is?
My mind wanders further: do Zidan, 7, Zayaad, 11, Alaan, 13, and Zia, 15, know what day of the week it is and how long they’ve been away from home? Did they know that Zidan turned seven this past Sunday? Did his brothers sing happy birthday for him? Are they even together right now?
They were kidnapped far away from Cape Town but my children – aged 4, 9, 12 and 16 – are well aware of the heartbreaking story. My eldest daughter went walk about in a large chain store when she was two and my wife and I will never forget the panic. It felt like an hour but in truth was less than minute. Our hearts raced as a cold sweat overcame us. I eventually saw her about to take a confused stranger’s hand, thinking it was me.
Since then, we have kept the kids close. They’re not allowed to play outside of the boundary walls of our house. It is very different from my childhood. This world, filled with bad people.
Back then, we played in the street until the sun set – when the Muslim call to prayer at sunset known as Maghrib was audible across the neighbourhood. Sometimes our moms stood outside with a sloffie in one hand making threatening gestures for us to come inside while we tried to finished the final over of street cricket for the day.
Depending on the season, it would either be cricket, tennis soccer or a game handed down from generation to generation like kennetjie (played with a stick and what looked like the bails from cricket stumps that you’d launch in the air before giving it a good whack). The game would be over either at Maghrib, or when a neighbour’s window was broken.
We lived in a diverse neighbourhood but that call to prayer signalled to children of different faiths that darkness would soon visit. It was time for a bath, for dinner and then to bed.
On Thursday evening, I visited such a neighbourhood called Springfield Terrace in District Six. Thursday evenings are the traditional thikr nights (an evening of prayer for Muslim people) in Cape Town.
As I walked up the square surrounded by townhouses below the highway, there was such a street soccer game in progress with proper skills on display too. But the players started scattering as soon as they heard the Maghrib call to prayer.
Further up the square, outside Aunty Moena’s home, was a gazebo with blankets. A makeshift outdoor venue for a thikr for the safe return of the Moti brothers and for peace in our communities.
[WATCH] A child's prayer is automatically accepted in Islam. Here, Shabeer Samsodien, 14, says a prayer for the kidnapped Moti Brothers' safe return in a prayer meeting held last Thursday in District Six, Cape Town. pic.twitter.com/5YQwutVzu0
— Gasant Abarder (@GasantAbarder) November 8, 2021
It was arranged by social activist, comedian, broadcaster and actor Soli Philander and one of my favourite tweeters, Bryan Torien. They had roped me in to spread the word about the thikr to be performed by children from Madrassah Islamia who live in the terraces.
Shabeer Samsodien, 14, who led the prayers, said: “Ja Allah, we ask for the safe return of Zidan, Zayyad, Alaan, Zia. We ask of You to keep them safe. To keep them in the nur (light) and grant them a safe way home and to keep peace in our communities… we pray for the sickly, elderly and the deceased.”
There is power in a child’s prayer. It is automatically accepted in the Muslim faith. Last Thursday night, we were a disparate group assembled for a thikr arranged by two members of our society who aren’t Muslim. But we were bound, thousands of kilometres away, by a common wish for the safe return of Zidan, Zayyad, Alaan and Zia Moti who were so cruelly snatched with their driver outside their school.
Tonight, before you go to sleep, say a little prayer for the Moti brothers. Say it in our own faith or language. If you’re not religious, meditate or hold a quiet moment of reflection. Let us remain vigilant and let us not rest until they and the hundreds of missing children in South Africa are home safely with their parents.
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Pictures: Supplied