In a house of God, they came with guns,
Driven by hate, love for none.
With the moon lit on the Dori sky –
In Mehdi Abad, a murder’s alibi.
They came, they say, as pure as saints.
To cleanse the lands of “Ahmadi” taint –
To draw the line of who’s a “believer” –
Of who’s the “hero” and who’s the “schemer.”
Inside, in the stillness of night,
The Ahmadis bowed, with children in sight.
The name of Allah on their lips.
The fruits of prayers in their grips.
Outside, a bloodthirsty pursuit.
A broken silence, the elders uproot.
“Who is this Messiah on the wall?”
“Recant your faith!” or death will befall.
With dignity, they froze, steadfast to their core.
“Then take my head!” Imam Bidiga swore.
The bullets ripped the night from our Nine.
Their courage and life instantly enshrined.
One by one: Bouriema, Alhassane, Souley, Ousseni,
Hamidou, Agouma, Agali, Moussa and Ousmane.
The Nine of Burkina a fortress of molten lead –
Guardians of Ahmadiyyat even as they bled.
Is this the religion the terrorists serve?
Is this the “victory” they seek to preserve?
A perverse “peace” in the guise of oppression?
An unholy display of cowardly transgression?
Do they not know that Khilafat unites?
For the Nine and their families, our hearts ignite.
O Africa! Not diamonds, not gold, not oil
Have enriched you like the blood of the Nine on your soil.
The Nine now join the Eighty-Six of Lahore,
Abdul Latif of Kabul, the martyrs from before.
Do not say they are dead. Do not ever dread.
For the sacrifices of the fallen will never be left unsaid.
We will not let go of this bai‘at we’ve pledged.
Our devotion to our Khalifa – take our heads instead.
They would brand us as “treasonous”?
But they can never steal the Islam in us!
(Amjad Mahmood Khan, USA)
