A tragedy that has fostered brotherhood...

My earliest childhood memories of Ashoora was being hoisted on someone's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the 'haydar', the final and most gruelling procession on the morning of the 10th day of Muharram.

The shocking image of bald, bleeding heads with the deep sound of drums, punching my quivering heart, is something that is engraved in my mind and soul.

Every year, my father would take us - me and my brothers - to the ma'atam to attend the proceedings and listen to the Imams retell the tragic and sad story of the Imam Hussain and his family in the battle of Karbala and how they were slaughtered for what they believed in and stood up for, in a sombre and haunting assembly.

As a child, seeing adults, big men - our fathers, uncles, grandfathers - with their heads bowed low, weeping, some silently, some violently, is a heart-wrenching and unforgettable moment that reflects the deep sorrow, the grief, of something that occurred hundreds of years ago, yet is still mourned to this day.

For the 10 days of Ashoora, Manama is overtaken with a sense of grief and celebration, draped in black banners, flags and shawls. Food and drink is handed out on the streets and alleyways to strangers and passers-by, as a gesture of kindness and togetherness, to share, to be as one.
I remember, for a number of years, how my elder brother and I would stay behind to help in the ma'atam's kitchen, where food is prepared for the next day to be dispersed to the public; those long nights of chopping onions and peeling potatoes - even though tiring - were immensely rewarding.

We enjoyed the company of the other men and young boys who served at the ma'atam, each had a mission, a duty and a responsibility and each was committed, dedicated and seemed truthfully honoured to be involved, to be taking part, in this special occasion.

In spite of the puffy eyes, the tiredness and the smell of onions on us, my brother and I couldn't help but have a big wide smile on our faces, as dawn broke.

As I grew up, I began to understand more the essence of the story of Karbala and the Imam Hussain and come to terms with its sadness, realising the significance of being involved in celebrating it. Ashoora has become part of the true Bahraini tradition and heritage. To have that freedom is a privilege we must appreciate, knowing that it wasn't easy at times.

The occasion that once was limited to Shi'a only, has now been turned into a festival of unity, bringing Bahrainis - of all racial, ethnic and sectarian backgrounds - together from all corners of the island, to mark those everlasting days side by side.

This is unquestionably the biggest annual gathering in the country, in which tens of thousands of people flood into Manama to celebrate an occasion that was born out of tragedy, persecution and injustice, but one that today stands for great values, promoting tolerance, acceptance and harmony.


*Appeared in GDN Vol XXIX, NO. 314, Sunday, 28th January 2007