But I feel that it is important for me to repeat and reinforce it, for you to hear, for me to remember and for my brothers and sisters as well. What am I going to say next? You would have heard them many, many times, over and over from my beloved brothers and sisters.

They will not have their Baba to lead them by example and who will impart in them the values of hard work, courage, good judgment and, most importantly, respect for life. Now their Baba will not be here to celebrate their future successes, nor be by their sides to support them and comfort them in their times of defeat. It’s like as if they have not seen him for a thousand years. You see, my sons loved their Baba so much that they will jump on him every day to greet him.

How do I, their mum, console their aching hearts? I see the longing in my sons’ eyes as they watch other boys holding hands, tumbling on the grass, reading books, building Legos with their fathers. And so he communicates and expresses his fear by hitting them first. He feared that these other children, the others, would take away their toys. To help my children understand I explain to them that the ignorant man, the radicalised man, is pretty much like that boy in their preschool who doesn’t know how to play with other children, who doesn’t speak the same language as them. You both picked and chose the wrong team do the wrong thing. There’s no difference between you and Isis.

My son, the elder one, asked: “Oumi is he Isis?” How would a five-year-old answer that? That his Baba was killed by a man who was radicalised, ignorant and picked and chose from history in order to justify killing innocent people, instead of suiting up and fighting the real enemy. His friends asked: “Why does his mother pick him up every day instead of his father.

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