LUKE WOKE AT FIRST light, anxious to meet with Ablaa Raboud’s sister in a few hours. Sticking to his morning routine, he started his day with prayers and a workout. After a quick shower, he joined his family in the sunroom as breakfast was being served.
Both children sat on his lap as he ate. He felt encouraged for the first time in a long time. He was finally doing something meaningful to figure out what happened to his brother, and maybe he was actually making progress.
After eating, he said good-bye and walked out the kitchen door. Before he entered the woods, he looked back and saw Deborah kneeling with the children at the full-length window, watching him walk away. When they saw Luke turn, Alessa began blowing kisses and Abel did the same.
Luke drove to Jamilah’s neighborhood and parked the Mercedes a few blocks away from her apartment building. He walked through the front entry and knocked on the door for apartment 1C. He saw someone look through the peephole. The door was opened by an attractive young lady dressed in blue jeans and an MIT sweatshirt. Taken aback, he said, “I’m Luke Miller; I was supposed to meet with Jamilah Raboud.” The young lady responded with a beautiful smile, showing her perfect white teeth. “Luke, I’m Jamilah.”
Flustered, Luke responded, “Sorry, Jamilah, I didn’t recognize you.”
They laughed and shook hands. “Please call me Jami.” Noticing that Luke wasn’t wearing his clerical clothing, she replied, “I almost didn’t recognize you, either!”
She motioned for Luke to sit down on a small couch and offered him something to drink. He politely declined. Sitting across from him in a wooden chair, she became serious and picked up the conversation from the day before. “Luke, my sister was a very peaceful person. She loved the U.S. and its people.”
Seeing tears forming in her expressive eyes, Luke quickly spoke up. “I’m not here because I think your sister had something to do with the bombing. I’m here,” he began, but remembering that Mark Aldridge had warned him about not trusting anyone, he caught himself, deciding to limit the amount of details he would divulge. “Well, I’m not really sure why I’m here. I guess I wanted to see how the other victims’ families were coping.”
Her response surprised Luke. “Who else have you met with?”
He wondered if the question was an innocent response or an attempt to get information from him. Thinking quickly, he answered truthfully. “I’ve talked with Brad Thompson’s mother.”
“Anyone else?”
“Not yet. You were the next one on my list.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them, knowing what her next question would be.
“You have a list?”
“I think everyone read about the people who were killed.” Wanting to take control of the situation, he quickly changed the subject. “Enough about me. How are you doing?”
She looked up and her voice cracked as she asked, “Do you know what Ablaa means?”
“It means ‘perfectly formed.’ She was perfect. I miss her terribly.” She tried to continue but couldn’t.
Luke gave her a few minutes to compose herself, then he said, “Let’s not talk about the bombing. I didn’t come here to upset you.” While she dried her eyes, Luke asked, “Where are you from?”
She forced a smile. “Egypt.”
“Really? I’ve also lived in Africa.”
Surprised, she asked, “Where?”
“I worked in Johannesburg for four years.”
“Southern Africa is much different from northern Africa.”
Intrigued by her statement, he asked, “What do you mean?”
She seemed flustered, and Luke noticed red blotches forming on her neck. “As you must know, there are vast religious differences between the regions.” At that moment her cell phone rang and she politely excused herself, walking into the bedroom to take the call.
Luke knew that part of the world very well, and the differences weren’t just that people quietly believed in different religions. Yes, northern Africa was made up of mostly Muslims who practiced Islam, while southern Africa was populated mostly by Christians. However, after his fellow priests were murdered in Johannesburg, there were rumors throughout the area suggesting that the killers weren’t burglars, as advertised by the local media, but Muslim extremists who hated Christians.
Sharia law was prevalent in the north, and Luke had spent countless hours researching it. The more he learned about Sharia, the more concerned he became. Defined as “the path” or “the way,” Sharia law was derived from two primary sources of Islamic law: the divine revelations set forth in the Qur’an, and the example set by the Islamic prophet Muhammad. Luke’s concerns had nothing to do with the law itself but with the far-reaching and extreme interpretations of the law. The openly discussed portions had to do mostly with women’s rights, including covering their faces in public, being subservient to their husbands, and not dating before marriage. These were archaic by twenty-first-century standards but not unexpected, considering the traditions of this part of the world.
The hidden side of Sharia, however, was unthinkable by Western standards. Luke had read horrifying depictions of amputations, beatings, stonings, and honor killings, yet these draconian acts were seldom discussed. The Egyptian government recently had outlawed female circumcision, only after a twelve-year-old girl had died from an anesthesia overdose while having this nine-dollar procedure to remove her clitoris. Government statistics documented that over 50 percent of girls aged ten to eighteen had been circumcised; UNICEF’s research showed the actual numbers to be much higher.
When word of widespread honor killings was published in the European and American press, the Egyptian government’s official response was, “Egypt has no honor killings.” Yet, not by coincidence, the number of young women “reportedly” committing suicide was increasing at an alarming rate.
Stories of daughters being decapitated for having a boyfriend, or being beaten and electrocuted because they received a phone call from a boy, were common in this part of the world. One story Luke heard about from a fellow priest made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The priest told of a young mentally handicapped girl who was buried alive in the ground up to her neck and stoned by her father and others because she became pregnant. After they dug her up and realized that she wasn’t dead, they reburied her and threw rocks at her head until she died. What most people didn’t know was that her own father was the one who was responsible for impregnating her. Incest was another growing atrocity that many pretended didn’t exist.
Northern Africa, including Egypt, continued to have problems with religious tolerance. The Christian Coptic community, which comprised approximately 10 percent of the population, was being persecuted by Muslim extremists. If a young Muslim man saw a Christian girl that he wanted to take as one of his four wives, she would often be kidnapped, tortured, drugged, and raped until she submitted and became a Muslim, never seeing her family again. All of this was happening while government officials looked the other way. Recent bombings of Christian houses and churches had caused an outcry by Pope Benedict, who denounced the violence while stressing religious acceptance.
Jami returned, apologizing for the interruption. Wanting to follow up on her previous statement, Luke said, “You were saying that there are vast differences between northern and southern Africa, but as you know, they’re not only religious.”
She smiled politely and changed the subject. They talked about general topics for the next half hour. As Luke stood and prepared to leave, he said, “Before I go, can I just ask you one question? Do you have any idea who did the bombing? And do you think your sister was a specific target or just an innocent bystander?”
Flustered, Jami just shook her head. Disappointed that she didn’t want to speculate or offer any information, and losing his nerve to press her further, he thanked her for taking time to meet with him.
Then she asked unexpectedly, “Can you come back and visit me again?”
Luke was surprised but said, “Certainly.” After exchanging cell numbers, Luke asked, “What does the name Jamilah mean?”
She smiled and then quickly looked down. “It means beautiful.”
He waited for her to look up, then he smiled and said, “I should have known.”
