Khalida Jamilah, USA
Reading the recent article in Al Hakam, titled, “Persecution of Ahmadis in Indonesia: Mosque and buildings desecrated by 100-man mob despite police presence”, my soul was torn apart because it reminded me of a dark day I saw with my own eyes when I lived in Indonesia.
This memory was of the persecution and attacks that happened at Jalsa Salana in Parung, Bogor in 2006.
On the third day of Jalsa, I could not attend the concluding session because I was not feeling well, so I stayed at my host’s house located nearby the Jalsa location. I remember hearing a group of men shouting “Allahu Akbar” while holding large wooden sticks. I looked through the window and saw that their faces were full of anger.
The angry mob walked past the house I was staying in. I did not understand what to do. I felt terrified. That moment is very hard to put into words because it was horrific.
From that moment, I have always wanted to bury this painful memory. But whenever I read about Ahmadi mosques being attacked, that memory returns. I feel pain and sorrow. The memory of events that played out during Jalsa Salana Indonesia in 2006 are like a deep wound inside my soul.
My family and I are the only Ahmadis from Indonesia living in Southern California. In fact, there are very few Indonesian Ahmadis in the USA. But it does not matter, because once we become Ahmadi, the pain of another Ahmadi – no matter the race, or where they live – is our pain.
I pray that may Allah the Almighty always protect Ahmadis in Indonesia and the world over, and may He guide the unjust people there.
This memory was of the persecution and attacks that happened at Jalsa Salana in Parung, Bogor in 2006.
correction: the correct year is 2005
Comment Title: Testimony of Faith, Family, and Persecution
Despite decades passing since Pakistan’s Second Amendment (1974) and Ordinance XX (1984), Ahmadis continue to live under a system of legal apartheid that criminalizes their religious identity, forces them to register as “non-Muslims,” and even compels them to declare “Qadiani” on NICOP and CNIC applications. This discrimination is not just bureaucratic—it has torn through families and communities, stripping Ahmadis of dignity and basic rights. The years 2024 and 2025 were especially difficult, marked by escalating repression and intensified persecution that left Pakistani Ahmadis more vulnerable than ever. Please keep them all in your prayers.
Nothing as severe as the tragedies others have endured, but I myself experienced firsthand the discrimination when I returned to Pakistan eight years ago and applied for a NICOP card. I was denied the right to write “Muslim” as my religion and forced to accept “Qadiani” as my identity. That moment made clear how deeply the laws of Pakistan strip Ahmadis of dignity and belonging.
My paternal grandfather, Dr. Mohammad Abdul Qadeer (Shaheed), was martyred in Qazi Ahmed, Sindh in 1989, and my family has carried that grief as part of our faith and resilience. He was not only a loving doctor but also the president of his local Jamaat, serving his community with devotion until his last breath. The pain of his loss is inseparable from the wider persecution Ahmadis face, yet his example continues to inspire us to remain steadfast.
The Ahmadiyya Hall in Saddar Karachi—once a place of cherished childhood memories where we gathered for every Friday prayer and observed daily Dar traviah in Ramadan during the 1980s with my maternal grandmother, the late Respected Iqbal Begum, and my mother,
the late Syeda Bilquis Sadaqat Sami Jadran—has from past few years been silenced after mob attacks. What was once a sanctuary of faith, family, and community has been reduced to a painful reminder of how persecution erases spaces of worship and belonging.
These experiences are not isolated—they are part of a wider pattern of repression that has escalated in recent years, with arrests, killings, and systemic disenfranchisement. Yet amid this suffering, there remains a prayerful hope: that one day these unjust laws will be repealed, and Ahmadis will be free to live and worship openly in Pakistan. The memories of family, faith, and community endure as a testament to resilience, even in the face of persecution.
Again, Khalifatul Masih V (aba) has recently requested us to pray for Ahmadis in Pakistan and Bangladesh. May Allah keep all Ahmadis safe, and may He honor the sacrifices of persecuted families who have borne these trials with steadfastness. This is why I am writing—to bear witness, to honor them, and to join my voice in that prayer.