My arms are grieving too.

 It’s 12:21 a.m.

Over forty minutes ago, I got the news that my friend is no more.

I didn’t think I’d be writing now, at least not this soon.

If you had asked me yesterday what my next post would be, I would’ve never imagined it would be a tribute.

Not to an elderly person.

Not to a distant acquaintance.

But to my friend. My friend.

My heart doesn’t feel heavy—maybe it’s too stunned to be.

But my eyes ache from crying for over twenty minutes.

Now I just feel…. You know when you don’t feel anyway because something is too much.

I don’t know if I’ve even started to comprehend what I have just heard .

I don’t even want to speak about her this way yet

 I don’t want to speak about her now.

I want to speak to her.

7:50 a.m.

I just saw someone post:

“You were kind to everyone around you.”

Were?

That word hit me.

It doesn’t make sense.

None of this does.

10:51 a.m.

I saw she  was buried at 10 a.m. this morning. And just like that, it’s real.

She really is gone.

Writing has always been how I make sense of things. And now, with my heart so unbearably heavy, with barely any strength left in me, I know that I need to pour out every ounce of this grief, of this love.

One of the hardest things I’d have to do is to speak about my wonderful friend in past tense because she really is gone just like how I saw her being referred to as “deceased”

That wouldn’t make any sense to me obviously because I was leaving school barely two weeks ago when I saw her. I said, “Alhaja, byeee!” like I always did. I had greeted her just five minutes earlier outside and told her to come and greet my mom because I was always talking about her at home and she did and I said bye again.

I didn’t know that would be the last time I’d ever see her face, her bright smile, her silver tooth shining like sunlight caught in her laughter.

I used to call her my queen and the truth is ,she really was.

There was ”Queen” in every part of her demeanor.

One of my favorite things about coming to class was knowing I’d get to hug her, tight, warm, daily. I’d say, “Good morning, my queen,” and she’d give me a smile that made me feel like I was deeply, genuinely loved by her.

She probably thought I smiled so hard because I loved greeting her. She’ll never know that it was her who made me happy, it was something about her presence, her beauty, her love.

 She made me proud of who I was just by being someone who was always happy to see me, it was like my existence excited her just like hers excited me.

Moshkuroh was so full of life.

And that’s what makes this so devastating.

She was faithful, vibrant, deeply good.

But even none of that could pause death.

And that’s terrifying.

She was one of the people that inspired me quietly to start to put myself out there more because she seemed very very fearless doing it, I aspired to do that too.

Watching her step into herself—on stage, during debates, giving speeches, receiving awards, I used to always have my phone out, capturing those moments of hers. It became a little unspoken ritual: I’d record her,she’d record me.

The last time,She took a video of me presenting. Over a minute long. She sent it to me with a “Well done, Hadiqah ❤️”

That tiny act made me so happy, Moshkuroh made me so, so happy

I never related to people being in denial when they lose their friends because I had never lost a friend to death and I hate that she is reason I can now relate to it.

She used to show up for the class so much, and that was how we bonded, beyond the instant love I had for her from our first interaction.

The last time we had a class event, she spent all day in my room so we could prepare. It’s painful to know she’ll never be in my room again.

Two weeks ago, she was playfully trying to force me to show her my hands. I didn’t. She kept trying to open my fingers, and I didn’t let her.

Now I wish I had.

I didn’t know that would be the last time she’d ever ask me for anything.

We laughed so much that day. We went to wash our hands together. She washed last. I waited for her so we could all walk back together.

I don’t even know what that means, I’m just writing down what I remember of her, the little things that now feel like everything.

She was a promising young woman. A bright, fearless, fearless girl. 

And it’s sad to realize that the last time I would ever see her was when I told her bye.

I should have gone to hug her.

I would have gotten my last hug from her.

I still remember what she used to smell like.

After I was so unsure about starting my blog,one day before we entered the class she told me she loved my writings and she could relate to the first grief letter I posted and the letter I wrote for my friend and she told me it was like I lived through what she also related to.

It was a big thing that she read my work and she wanted me to post more.

I thought, maybe one day, I’d write about her when life had stretched out more memories for us. I didn’t think it would be this. never did I think it was going to be a tribute.

And this is what I hate about losing someone to death—The slow realization and the forced acceptance.

The way you cry so hard one day and feel like you must stop crying the next and pray for her instead.

I’d have to get up and make food for my siblings because life would have to move on.

I’d have to stop so I don’t bother anyone with my emotions too.

I would have to continue editing my video eventually.

I’d have to have normal conversations with my loved ones and make them laugh because I love them and they’re still here and life has to move on.

That’s why I’m remembering her in the most permanent way I know, writing.

I thought to remember my wonderful friend in this way that’s most dear to my heart.

I’d remember her everytime I look at the pictures of me she once took after Jummah. She said I looked too beautiful not to be captured. She didn’t even ask, she just took my phone and snapped me.

That was Moshkuroh.

Bold. Loving. Warm. Soft. Fierce. The kind of light you couldn’t look away from.

She was like the sun. She didn’t need to try to shine—she just did.

And I’m so glad that in ways that she probably didn’t know,she extended her light in to my life too,quietly.

Any time I hear  “Assistant General Secretary”, I’d remember my wonderful friend. 

I’d remember her because, in my eyes, no one who ever goes for that post in the years to come would be as passionate as my friend was.

She had crossed my mind the night of my birthday when I didn’t hear from her and I had a feeling it wasn’t anything good because she would’ve reached out.

I think my heart was also telling me something,that those were her last days.

No one can ever fully comprehend the concept of death,it’s crazy.

And as I finish writing this, I still can’t believe I’m writing about her… in this way.

“I don’t know what to do with all the love I have for her. I don’t know where to put it.”

I would always look for you first when I see your friends coming into the class,I would still smile in my heart like I can see you entering the class with them.

Like I can see you finding my eyes to give me the brightest smile or shake me or give me your warm hugs.

I’m so glad I never held back from saying that you are beautiful (because you would always be beautiful my queen)

The world would carry on without you but that’s how it always is,I hope you’re always in my heart too.

“However many tomorrows 

are left to me,

I will miss you 

in every single one.”

I loved you very much,I hope you knew.

I still love you very much,I always will.

We’re still connected—just not by presence anymore, but by prayer and hope

May Allah reward you for every time you softened my world without knowing it. 

I know instead of tears,Moshkuroh would’ve wanted prayers so,

Please say a prayer for my friend;

O Allah, I entrust to You the soul of my beloved friend, Moshkuroh.

Forgive her sins, overlook her shortcomings, and accept every good she ever did.

Make her grave spacious, filled with light, peace, and the scent of Jannah.

Let the angels greet her with mercy and ease her questioning.

Elevate her to the ranks of the righteous and reunite us in Jannatul Firdaus.

comfort those who raised her, those who loved her, those who sit in her absence now.

May every whisper I send to Allah reach you as light

May you be hugged now by His mercy, the way you once held me in your warmth.

It is the greatest privilege to have crossed paths with you in my lifetime,rest well my Friend.❤️