These seven letters mark the beginning of Dearest Gaza, written during a time when the suffering of the Gaza Strip unfolded in full view of the world and many of us found ourselves watching from afar, unsure what witnessing truly demanded of us. They are not reports, arguments, or attempts to explain events, but reflections on faith, distance, responsibility, and what it means to belong to an ummah that feels both connected and powerless in the face of injustice. These letters form the first stones of this archive. They are an opening act of remembrance and witness, from which other voices may one day emerge to write, reflect, and carry forward the act of remembering.
Dearest Gaza,
Memory has always carried great importance in the life of the Muslim community. The Qur’an itself was preserved first in the hearts of believers before it was written in manuscripts. The companions of the Prophet ﷺ memorised its verses and recited them constantly so that its guidance would not be forgotten. In this way the early Muslims understood that remembering was part of preserving truth.
The history of the companions also shows how carefully they protected the memory of events that shaped the community. Many of them spent their later years teaching others about what they had seen and heard during the lifetime of the Prophet ﷺ. They transmitted accounts of battles, migrations, and hardships so that later generations would know how the early Muslims lived and struggled. These memories became part of the moral inheritance of the ummah.
The Qur’an often calls believers to remember earlier peoples and the consequences of their actions. It recounts the stories of prophets and nations not merely as history but as lessons. By remembering what happened before them, believers are able to understand the patterns of justice, patience, and accountability that appear throughout human history.
For this reason memory is never a simple act of recalling the past. It is also a way of protecting truth from being lost. When events are remembered clearly, they continue to shape the conscience of a community. When they are forgotten, the lessons they carried begin to disappear as well.
Your suffering will become part of the memory of this generation of Muslims. The people of the Gaza Strip have endured trials that many across the world have witnessed and discussed. Whether those memories remain alive in the conscience of the ummah will depend on whether believers continue to speak about them with honesty and care.
In this way memory becomes a responsibility. It requires people to record what they know and to pass it forward so that others may learn from it. The early Muslims preserved the memory of their struggles so that later generations would understand the cost of faith and justice. The same duty remains for Muslims today.
Ever your sister of the ummah you dignify.
