Mehreen Faruqi (NSW, Australian Greens) Share this | Hansard source

It is 18 days since the Christchurch massacre—18 days since the attacker took 50 lives; 18 days since he gunned down people in peaceful Friday prayers. It has been 18 long days for those who lost their loved ones that day. They face a lifetime without those who have been brutally taken away from them. This most shocking of crimes has reverberated around the world. Like so many others, I have cried many times since the news of the attack. We as a community have been shaken to the core. We are shattered and we are still grieving for the family and friends who lost their loved ones.

Too often the media coverage since the attack has shifted focus away from the victims and targets and their loved ones towards those who continue to foster hate. I would like to read the names of the 50 people who were murdered in Christchurch. Abdukadir Elmi, a 70-year-old father of four from Somalia, was killed at the Al Noor mosque. Abdul Fattah Qasem, 60 years old, was a respected elder in the Muslim community. He helped with interpretation for refugees and migrants from the Middle East. Also killed were Ahmed Abdel Ghani, 68 years old; Ali Elmadani, 66 years old; Amjad Hamid, 67 years old; Ansi Alibava, 24 years old; Ashraf Ali, 58 years old; Ashraf Al-Masri; and Ashraf Morsi, 54 years old, father of two. Asif Vora, 56 years old, was killed at the Al Noor mosque alongside his son, Ramiz. Atta Elayyan, 33 years, was the goalkeeper for New Zealand's futsal team. There were Mohammed Daoud Nabi, 71 years old; Farhaj Ahsan, 30 years old; and Ghulam Husain, 66 years old. Hafiz Musa Vali Patel, 59 years old, was critically injured in the attack and rushed to hospital, but he died later. Hamza Mustafa, just 16 years old, was shot as he prayed alongside his father. Also killed was Haroon Mehmood, 40 years old, father of two. Hosne Ahmed, 44, was in the women's area of the Al Noor mosque when the attacks started. Hussein al-Umari, 35 years old, died while challenging the gunman. There were also Hussein Moustafa, 70 years old; Junaid Kara/Ismail, 36 years old; and Kamel Darweesh, 39 years old. Karam Bibi, 63 years old, was killed with her husband, Ghulam Husain, and her son, Zeeshan Raza, at Linwood Islamic Centre. Khaled Mustafa, 44 years old, died in hospital after being shot at the Al Noor mosque. His teenage son, Hamza, was also killed. Linda Armstrong, 65 years old, had moved to Christchurch to be closer to her family. Maheboob Khokhar, 65 years old, was visiting New Zealand for the first time with his wife to see his son, who had left India in 2010. Others who died were Matiullah Safi, 55 years old; Mohammed Imran Khan, 47 years old; Omar Faruk, 36 years old, whose wife, Sanjida Zaman Heha, is in Bangladesh and is pregnant; Mohsen Mohammed Al Harbi, 63 years old; Mojammel Hoq, 30 years old; and Mounir Suleiman, 68 years old. Mucad Ibrahim was just three years old. This one just breaks my heart. The youngest victim of the attacker, he was visiting the mosque with his brother, Abdi, and their father, both of whom survived the attack. There were Lilik Abdul Hamid, 58 years old; Abdus Samad, 66 years old, a lecturer at Lincoln University, where he had studied for a PhD in the 1980s; Musa Nur Awale, 77 years old; and Naeem Rashid, 50 years old, originally from Abbottabad in Pakistan, whose eldest son, Talha, 21, was also killed in the attack. There were Osama Adnan Abu Kweik, 37 years old; Ozair Kadir, 25 years old; Ramiz Vora, 28 years old, who was killed with his father, Asif, in the Al Noor attack; Sayyad Milne, just 14 years old; Sohail Shahid, 40 years old; Syed Areeb Ahmed, 27 years old; and Syed Jahandad Ali, 34 years old. Talha Rashid, 21 years old, was the eldest son of Naeem Rashid, who was also killed in the attack. There were Tariq Omar, 24 years old; and Zakaria Bhuiya, 33 years old, who had taken the day off to celebrate his 33rd birthday at the mosque. There was Zeeshan Raza, 38 years old, the only son of Ghulam Husain and Karam Bibi, who were also killed in the attack. This whole family was massacred. Finally, there were Muhammad Haziq bin Mohd Tarmizi, just 17 years old, and Mohamad Moosi Mohamedhosen, 54 years old. We are still mourning and we are still grieving.

I also want to mention a survivor: Zaid Mustafa, a surviving son and brother. I cannot forget the image on our screens as he watched his father and his brother, the first of the victims to be buried. Grief and anguish were etched into his young face. He wept as he was wheeled into the funeral, and he cried that he didn't want to be left all alone in this world.

Naeem Rashid was filmed charging at the gunman in a bid to stop him. His 21-year-old son Talha was also killed. Naeem's wife, Amber, was trapped in a prayer room with about 30 other women and children as the attacker murdered their friends and families.

When 71-year-old Daoud Nabi opened the door of the mosque to the terrorist, he said, 'Hello, brother.' This is a very common way for Muslims to greet each other and to greet others. Imagine being the person who welcomed someone with these words, only to be shot and killed on the spot. These words and images will stay with us, perhaps forever.

Since the attack I have been to many vigils and I have been to many solidarity rallies. I have stood with my sisters and my brothers in the Muslim community. We have mourned for days, and I think we will continue to mourn for days longer. We have hugged each other a little tighter. We are grief stricken for our neighbours in New Zealand. We are also scared.

I do want to thank so many who have sent messages of love and support, and who have stood together in solidarity in these very difficult times over the last 18 days. This outpouring of support does mean a lot. Time does not heal all wounds. No days, months or years can ever hope to diminish the anguish and sorrow of Christchurch. No words can do justice to the pain of the survivors, the family and friends of the victims and our community. Right now, it feels as if no action could ever make right the wrongs that led to this point.

Many of the targets of this horrific terror in Christchurch were there after having fled war and persecution. Some were refugees. To pass through a lifetime of violence and persecution, flee your home and spend years building a new one in a new community only to lose your life to the violence of a hateful murderer is an incomprehensible tragedy.

But I do know that some people do not think of us Muslims as equal humans. In the midst of our grief, while we have been showered with love, we have also been bombarded with extraordinary hate and filth. If this does not reset the public debate; if this does not prompt a complete rethink of how we dehumanise Muslims in public debate then I really do not know what will.

Let us mourn and let us remember the targets of the Christchurch massacre. But let's also commit with absolute resolve to making sure such tragedy never happens again. The climate of hate and racism that led to this massacre cannot be allowed to go on. But this can only happen if everyone in here is genuinely reflecting on their responsibilities to foster love and to foster understanding for all, and acting purposefully for change.