On a somber Tuesday, a crowd of mourners spilled onto a basketball court in Plainfield, Illinois, transforming it into a dazzling makeshift memorial for a beloved 6-year-old boy, Wadea Al-Fayoume. A Palestinian-American dearly enamored with the sport, Wadea tragically lost his life amidst an unspeakable act of hatred bestowed upon him due to his Muslim heritage.
Photographs of the young boy adorned the court, creating a poignant backdrop for the tear-stained testimonials from those who cherished his infectious smile and unimpeachable innocence. His father, Oday Al-Fayoume, addressed the crowd, his voice a muted echo in the wind, confessing that his writ in the English dialect was mainly imparted by his departed son. However, Wadea’s untimely demise has rendered him unable to articulate himself in English as grief overtakes his linguistic abilities.
Pointing to a tender photograph of Wadea on his recent birthday, a memory created shortly before his untimely departure, his father drew the crowd’s attention, asking if they saw what his son was doing? In his photographs, the boy had extended his hand, shaping a half heart. His father lifted his own hand, completing the heart, a symbol of the mutual love that death could pose no barrier too.
The vehemence of the hate crime committed against the young lad has racked the community. Wadea was mercilessly stabbed 26 times at his own home, a place supposedly safe from such ghastly crime. His mother, Hanaan Shahin, also bore significant stab wounds but was fortunate to have survived. Authorities indicated the attacker, a 71-year-old, targeted them due to their faith and the volatile geo-political dynamics in the Middle East. Amidst charges of murder and hate crimes, his case is also undergoing scrutiny by the Department of Justice as a possible hate crime.
While the victim was born in the United States, Wadea’s parents hailed from a quaint village on the West Bank. Despite his roots, he was, as the Will County Mental Health Board member Juhie Faheem stated, an “All-American boy.” Wadea did not adorn any religion-based identifiers; his innocent smile was his sole identifier, reflecting a heart filled with unmeasured love and void of any hatred.
As the tribute to Wadea drew to a conclusion, the court buzzed with young attendees, one of them carrying a poignant sign that read, “I am not a threat,” a statement more significant than a mere child’s scribbled words. The heart-wrenching tribute also included a mother’s grief when Wadea’s best friend’s mother wept for two boys who can no longer play, learn, or ride the school bus together.
An intimate moment of silence soaked the court as Imam Hassan Aly led everyone in prayer. Aly ruminated over the tragic irony of Wadea’s name, which denotes peace, yet the boy was denied that in life. He expressed their collective faith that Wadea was now eternally resting in peace with other innocent lives lost due to violence.
Amidst this collective display of sorrow and solace, Dilawar Syed, the highest-ranking Muslim official in the Biden administration, took to the stage. He reaffirmed President Biden’s commitment to eradicating hate within America, fighting against Islamophobia and anti Semitism in the nation. The discourse briefly veered toward tension when a sudden outburst resulted in calls for calm from the organizers.
The victim’s landlord, Joseph M. Czuba, stands accused with conveying this act of brutality, carrying charges of first-degree murder, attempted murder, hate crime, and aggravated battery with a deadly weapon. Astonishingly, a man who considered himself a grandfather-like-figure to Wadea revealed Czuba was once a cherished friend of the boy’s family. The sudden and vicious turn of this once beloved family friend left them in utter shock.
The idyllic two-year tenure of the Al-Fayoumes at Czuba’s property saw a horrifying downturn on October 11, when he insisted Wadea and his mother vacate the premises. The tides overwhelmingly turned when Czuba, stewing in misguided apprehensions about his Middle Eastern tenants, fatalistically engaged Wadea and his mother in discourse about the Middle East conflict.
The evening the tragic crime unfolded, Czuba confronted Shahin about her ties with Jerusalem. Shahin’s plea for peace was brutally cut short when Czuba attacked her with a knife. In her desperate escape, she managed to lock herself in the bathroom, leaving behind her son with her assailant, a chilling tableau relayed to authorities over a tense 911 call.
Despite the mother’s harrowing situation and gory physical injuries, the most excruciating pain she bears is the loss of her son. Wadea had stepped into his prime, a vibrant boy deeply enamored with his toys and games, with an insatiable thirst for all outdoor activities. Wadea’s endearing nature and his profound love for his family and life itself were features that etched him in everyone’s heart.
In his last moments, Wadea displayed wisdom beyond his age, seeking to put his mother at ease by telling her, “I’m fine.” Indeed, even in death, Wadea is fine, in a realm free of violence and hatred, a sentiment his mother must hold onto as she reels from her loss, her absence at his funeral services and her excruciating emotional healing dictator of her tragic reality.
The tale of this cruel hate crime is one that shall linger long after the court’s vigil lights have dimmed. It tells a dreadful story of hate and intolerance that snuffed out the life of an innocent child. Yet, it also whispers gentle tales of love and bravery, and a community standing against unfathomable loss, proving that peace, and not hate, is what defines humanity.
