Mostafa is from Jobar neighborhood of #Damascus. His parents have been separated since he was a little baby. His mother left to turkey when the crisis started. He stayed in Jobar with his father and grandparents who were martyred in front of his eyes in Jobar after long resistance. Then he left to Ein Terma with his father, until he died in the last days of the crazy shelling by a barrel bomb. He was injured in his waist after he got out of the Great Mosque after praying with his father and despite all efforts to save his life in a surgical operation, he died.
Mostafa is my cousin and he was martyred on Friday, the same day of signing the agreement.
His father stayed near his grave for three days and he wanted to stay in Jobar with his 14 year old friend. Mostafa’s father did not get married again after his divorce when Mostafa was 1 year old. Mostafa’s mother got married and she has children now. Every time Mostafa was late in talking to his mother, she would call me, and her heart felt something wrong the day he was martyred. It was the first time she told me “Safa’a please assure me, my heart is on fire”. Her husband decided to go to Turkey but Mostafa did not want to go not to leave his father; they were real friends.
My house was bombed two days before his martyrdom and because I was so sad he went there and cleaned it and fixed what he could in two hours.
We all remember him every second, especially these days and with each delicious meal he felt like eating, with every fruit and biscuit.
Sufferings make unique people. I wish I had taken some photos to his room before we left. On his room walls, he drew his future, plans and dreams on all levels, daily steps and imaginary drawings.
He designed his room. Under his bed, there was a special place with different environment and lighting and small simple innovations; a solution to every problem he faced. He used to study in that special place.
My uncle Kasem lives with us now in Idlib. He has no one now but us, after Mostafa; his sole friend and everything in life.
Little Mostafa had a dream of building his country after the Tyrant destroyed it.
I want to tell him that we will never forget how we lost them and why.
In every moment, they will be with us and their dreams planted in our hearts.
We will continue the road that we started together and they paved it with their bodies and blood.
My soul, you left a big void in your father’s heart. God willing, my children will compensate him and be his support and will achieve his dreams.
Witness: Safa’a Kamil – 30 Years Old
Martyr: Mostafa Kasem Mahjoub