The death of Zahra Shahid Hussain left me stunned. Like someone had punched me straight in the throat. My insides were shaking like they would never taste air again. Quite frankly, I don’t care who did it. I don’t care what big or small label they can give this apocalyptic chaos in my head. I just wish the person who shot her knew what he was doing; I just wish he knew her. I wish he knew her really well, so he could see the fight in her. So he could see that women like her are warriors and whomsoever they touch upon, wears some of their armour. Oh, I wish he knew her so well. I hope he has the audacity to sleep.

For the rest of you, who didn’t know her well, I would want you to know who she was. Well I’m not the greatest help as I only met her twice myself. I hugged her and she was warm. She was tall and she was absolute. Her presence was unparalleled. She exuded love; I’ve only met four other women with souls that were all encompassing. She spoke to me as if I was her right-hand man, and I felt so small and insignificant in front of her that I couldn’t understand why she would give me the time of day. But she said my name several times as if to remind me that I was there too. She gave; and that’s all she did. Instantly and irrevocably she made my shoulders straighter and my head higher. How can I tell you who she was. She was incredible, she was strong, and the world couldn’t touch her with a diamond bullet. Even now, she has dodged you.

She has dodged your insanity, your callousness and your negligence. She was the embodiment of acceptance and energy. She stood amongst some of the most powerful people in the world and owned her presence. She had that something, that only the wisest or the youngest of us know, the fearlessness of consequences in the face of what you know is right. Of what your soul sings about. And you can bet the most silver dollar in the world, her soul sang.

She is untouchable and she is forever.