Dr. M. N. Tarazi

   It was the last Friday of September 1976, two hours before sundown, and my mother and I left Lausanne in Switzerland and started driving back home to Besancon, France. We’d spent two days visiting my brother Mataz. It was the last day of Ramadan and the trip was supposed to only take about one hour forty five minutes. So we decided to continue fasting. My wife stayed home during these two days and she was expecting us back home before the time to break our fast.

    My mother was filling me in on all sorts of events that had happened in Syria since her last visit, one year before. Who married who, who had new born children, who graduated from high school and much more. She was extremely happy to be with us. I had paid for her round trip ticket; I took her shopping. My wife sewed her a few skirts and a jacket. We were doing our best to please her.

    When we were silent she‘d be praying. She loved looking outside the car at the magnificent scenery of the Jura Mountains. She prayed for Allah to bless us, to make us successful, to return what we spent on her multiplied many times. When I heard her last prayer, I wondered how Allah was going to give me back what I spent on her and more, while I had a very limited income and no prospects on the horizon for any increase? Suddenly she shouted “Ya Latif, Ya Latif, Ya Latif”. A speeding car appeared from a hidden curve from the other direction, two thirds of it in my lane heading towards me....Read More

The Accident

A tale from my time in France

Dr. Mouhamed N. Tarazi

February 2013