For Aya Al-Umari, time stood still on 15 March 2019.
Three years ago, Ms Al-Umari, 36, found out that her brother, Hussein, was one of the 51 people who was shot dead in an attack on two mosques in Christchurch.
A man opened fire on hundreds of worshippers during Friday prayer at Linwood Islamic Centre and Al Noor Mosque, where Hussein prayed every Friday.
Hussein Al-Umari lost his life on 15 March 2019 during the Christchurch attacks. His sister, Aya, misses him every day. Credit: Supplied/Aya Al-Umari
"I can never understand why he didn't save himself, but I can understand his love for the place of worship and love for others over time and I embrace his courage," Ms Al-Umari told SBS News.
Ms Al-Umari said the tragedy was "very raw" for her and her parents.
The Al-Umari family migrated from Abu Dhabi to Christchurch in search of a better life. Credit: Supplied/Aya Al-Umari
"It's not something that we ever expected in a million years to happen in New Zealand, let alone Christchurch," she said.
Today, she misses nothing more than her big brother's hugs. But she said she finds solace in the belief that Hussein died as a Shahid — an Islamic term for someone who has died in the name of their faith.
"Knowing he is a Shahid and knowing he acted so bravely pours a whole lot of cold water on our broken hearts."
Christchurch attack triggers Islamophobia in Australia
A report released by Charles Sturt University on the three-year anniversary of the Christchurch terror attack analysed 247 incidents of Islamophobia reported between January 2018 and December 2019.
These incidents were collated by a community-run initiative, the Islamophobia Register Australia (IRA), that has allowed Muslims to report on hate attacks — both online and offline — since 2014.
Islamic Studies researcher Derya Iner found that within two weeks of the Christchurch attack offline reports to the IRA quadrupled, and online attacks against Muslims were 18 times higher than average.
"The nature of the Christchurch attacks and their origin and effects online prove that treating online violence as less real is illusory and unhelpful," Dr Iner said.
"A person publicly calling everyone to mass-murder Muslims or expressing his joy for the idea of burning every single Muslim online was not any less real for the target groups."
One incident reported was by Muslim woman Aminah, who was stabbed in the arm in a southwest Sydney shopping centre in 2006, one month after the Cronulla riots.
Aminah was 20 and wore the hijab when she said a woman approached her with a knife while ordering a drink at the Bankstown shopping centre. After trying to protect herself, she said, she was badly wounded on the left arm that was shielding her chest.
"I actually thought I was in this weird dream, it happened so slow but also so fast at the same time," Aminah said.
Aminah said NSW Police informed her that the perpetrator had mental health issues, and the woman who stabbed her was told by a man named James — a hallucinated figure — to kill a Muslim.
"The feeling of being violated simply because you wear a headscarf in itself is very confronting," she said.
Now 36 and a mother, she doesn't speak publicly about what happened to her that day, but when she sees reports of Islamophobia on the news, she gets triggered with a wave of trauma.
"I obviously got stabbed, blood was everywhere, it was a disgusting scene and, still, I wasn't a victim," she said.
It was only until the Christchurch tragedy where Islamophobia was actively discussed that she felt like her experience was validated.
A Muslim worshipper prays at a makeshift memorial at the Al Noor Mosque in Christchurch, New Zealand, Tuesday, 19 March 2019. Source: AAP / Mick Tsikas
The Australian National Imams Council (ANIC) said the anniversary of the Christchurch attack is a bitter reminder of "anti-Muslim prejudice and dangers of white supremacy" in Australia and around the world.
"This was a massacre committed by an Australian very close to home. The massacre was preceded by ignorance, hate and a pervading and publicly stated anti-Muslim sentiment which was left unaddressed and allowed to fester and be shared," ANIC spokesperson Bilal Rauf said.
Ms Al-Umari and her parents packed up their unbridled grief and moved away from Christchurch, now making a new home in Auckland without Hussein.
They will attempt to heal wounds that are still raw, but she believes that his legacy will live on forever.
"It's very sad that it took losing lives and a terrorist attack for people to come to realise that 'Oh, wait, hang on a minute, we've misjudged Muslims'.
"We're just as human as everybody else."
