This article is dedicated to Bill Ackman and David Lange in their honor.
In my childhood, my outlet was reading translated novels like the story of Jane Eyre. Her story resonated so much with me; I myself felt like an orphan in a cruel world, searching for love. Then there was the story of Robinson Crusoe, where I escaped from reality into what I then saw as heaven, despite the danger and loneliness—something I preferred over my own reality. I imagined having a loyal friend like Friday. My growth continued with these novels, including the story of The Count of Monte Cristo, then the knights of Camelot and King Arthur, the heroics of Robin Hood stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, and the honorable code of the samurai. I cannot forget Les Misérables or Treasure Island. I was always taken by heroism, nobility, and generosity but felt even then at ease living through the stories of pain, suffering, and agony being told. They gave me comfort.
Later, I shifted to stories of victory and conquering, reading about the prophet’s companions their struggles in the beginning, then their stories of conquering the world. Salahuddin resonated so much with me the dream of freeing Jerusalem from the infidels. At the time, there was some evidence to suggest we might have descended from him, so walking in his path was an honor. Eventually, later research into the family tree and DNA revealed I am a descendant of the prophet Muhammad.
Sorry for the long introduction into my boring life. My point is, this taught me to live by a specific code of honor. Even when I stumbled into darkness, it served me well, keeping me safe from falling deeply into evil. My life experiences and the betrayals I endured – a mother who tried to kill me, a father who physically abused me, and monsters who raped me – made me vow to be strong and never allow anyone the pleasure of hurting me. Because of that, I made sure at some point in my life to fully depend on myself and never be vulnerable or indebted to anyone. I’ve been struggling a lot financially, and even when my Jewish friends kept urging me to get paid for my advocacy, I continued to reject such a premise. My words are my own; they are my truth, and they will never be tainted by money. My new path advocating for Israel is an honorable one, and I will not let monetary gain taint it. The honorable thing is to do this out of love and devotion to my newly found brothers and sisters, the Jewish people.
However, everything took a wrong turn into hell when my two children became ill. I tried my best to help them get the treatment they needed, but it was then that I felt hopeless and helpless. Having failed them, the shame was too much, and I was prepared to do the only honorable thing left: the death of a samurai. Eventually, with the advice of friends, I caved in and opened a GoFundMe to help my children, and the generosity of people poured in. But that didn’t come without its own agony of shame, which then triggered my anxiety and memories of past betrayals. I had to close the campaign and refund everyone.
However, their condition kept getting worse, and I had no choice but to reopen another one. Again, the Jewish generosity and their capacity for love and the holiness of their beliefs in doing what they call mitzvah allowed for donations to pour in. They trusted an anonymous person, a Palestinian who grew up with the sole purpose of eliminating them.
The sheer amount of generosity and love, the kind words and prayers, kept coming. One man among them all, someone who had never met me nor probably heard of me, jumped at the opportunity to help a man in need. His name is Bill Ackman, a man of great character, kindness, and generosity, who donated $18,000. Mr. Ackman, your contribution and support, including that of everyone else, has given me hope again and the strength to keep fighting Jew hatred, to never give up, and to honor your people as they have saved and honored me.
Nothing I do will ever repay his kindness and generosity, nor the kindness and generosity of everyone who donated. I am forever grateful to everyone.
But I must also add a very important part of my existence here: a man who has shown great capacity for love of his people and dedication to them even in times of hardship, never giving up, and doing everything from the love in his heart. He does so full time with limited resources and a lack of recognition for his advocacy, which is so much more effective than that of anyone else I know, including large organizations. This man is David Lange. He has been fighting Jew hatred for many years. He was the first to trust me and provide his platform for me to write my articles. Without him, I would be just a random person. I owe so much to him; his work is instrumental in my growth and love for Israel.
