I Am Nಮಾದರಿ

The Boy Who Would Not Back Down

Hussein B.
Turkey

At his school in Turkey, nine-year-old Hussein fumbled excitedly with the clasp on his necklace, then straightened the cross pendant. He was proud to let his teachers and fellow students know of his new Christian faith.

The feeling would not be mutual.

In his innocence, Hussein didn’t know that 96 percent of Turks are Muslim. He didn’t know that practicing another religious faith is culturally unacceptable.

Hussein knew none of that the morning he first put on the cross. He knew only that his father, a former Islamic scholar, loved Jesus and so did he.

“It’s not the physical cross, it’s the meaning of the cross,” the precocious boy shared later. “It is a beautiful thing. I wanted people to ask me about it so I could tell them about Christ.”

He did not anticipate the danger that wearing the cross would incite. Some students spat on the cross. Other students swore at him. “Stinkin’ kafir,” they called out.

One of his sisters told their parents about the cross. “Hussein is telling everyone that we are Christians!”

Hakeem, his father, bristled. “Don’t ever tell people that you have become a Christian,” he warned.

Later, Hakeem and his wife decided they were wrong to force their son to suppress his faith. They realized that both of them had suppressed their faith and that Hussein’s boldness should be celebrated, not condemned.

Although his parents now supported Hussein’s desire to tell others about his faith, his classmates continued to taunt him. Hussein threatened to go to the principal if the abuse didn’t stop. One boy grabbed him by the arm, squeezed his hand hard, and threatened, “I’m going to shoot you if you tell about this.”

After Hussein described this incident, Hakeem went to the other boy’s father. “I thought the father would be concerned about his son’s actions,” Hakeem said. “But instead, he called me a kafir, threatened me, and said he would shoot me himself if I pursued action against his son.”

So the attacks continued. A gang of boys jumped on Hussein, threw rocks at him, and beat him with sticks. The attack stopped only when Hakeem arrived to pick up his son.

The opposition to Hussein’s faith grew even stronger. When Hakeem asked his son if he was still getting beat up, the boy nodded yes.

“By whom?” his father asked.

“By my religion teacher,” Hussein replied.

His religion teacher was an imam, an Islamic leader, who led worship in the neighborhood mosque. Every student in his class was required to write and recite the shahada: “There is no god but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet.”

Hussein refused to do it. In response, the teacher repeatedly struck him with a wooden rod.

After three weeks of such beatings, Hussein had a seizure. Then another. And another. When Hakeem went to the school to confront the teacher, he found the man standing over his student holding the rod.

The teacher stared at Hakeem. “Are you aware,” he stated icily, “that your son is wearing a cross to school? Are you Christians?”

“Yes and yes,” said Hakeem.

“It is against Islam!” the teacher declared.

“Why are you punishing my son for not reciting a Muslim prayer?” Hakeem asked. “Are beatings permissible?”

“Yes,” the teacher said, “the principal and the parents agree I should.”

Hakeem and his wife transferred their son to another school, and then another before they found one where Hussein experienced fewer attacks. Even as an eleven-year-old, Hussein remains steadfast in his faith: “I will never return to Islam, even if the persecution continues,” he said. “Christ said we would suffer for Him. It’s okay to suffer for Christ, and we should be happy to suffer for Him. The Lord is with me.”

Even at his young age, Hussein knows that his goal is not to please man, but to please God.