A Short Story by Ayla Di Biasio

“So you’ll meet us at the river at four?”, she asked, her wide, blue eyes staring into mine.

“Yep, four.” I answered.

“Great, I'll see you there!” 

Then she walked away, her blonde ponytail swaying behind her as she joined her group of friends. They giggled and walked inside to class. Things were finally working- the start of secondary school had been hard but she was finally making friends.

When the school bell rang at 3:35 she left the school excited and arrived at the lake where everyone was. The girls sat in the grass in shorts and their school shirts gossiping.

She went over and sat down. Then the girl in the middle looked up at her, a smirk curled up on her face.

“Hey why don’t we have a dip in the lake? It's shallow and plus it's so hot today” she smiled at her, “What do you think?”

Her face flushed red- she never learnt how to swim. She told the girls this as she kneeled in close but they reassured her it was fine. It was shallow water, right? and she had her new friends there if anything happened.

So, she got in the water. The girls made her get in first and said they would get in after and show her the way.

 The water was quite cold and not that shallow but she reassured herself it was fine because her new friends were there. She got in and then the other girl did. She held her hand into the water. It was calm. The other girls sat at the bank talking. 

Then all of a sudden, she let go of her and swam away. She struggled in the water and asked for help but they just laughed. Then they left. It was just her in the cold waters. The panic set in and she tried to get out. It almost felt like the water was pulling her down. The ledge was too far for her to get to and she couldn’t stay up. She reached out and shouted for help but no one heard. Then everything went cold and dark and she couldn’t breathe. Her body was discovered in the river the next day.

I was tasked with writing a short story for Purple Ink about the Black Lives Matter Movement. But I can’t do that. I can’t make up a story because there already are stories. Stories about real people and how our justice system failed them. What you just read was the real story of Shukri Yayhe-Abdi. She was a 12-year-old Somali refugee. She was muslim and wore a hijab. Last June she was drowned by her classmates.

They said they would meet her at the lake and then left her there to drown. The school did nothing. In fact even before this happened they reportedly ignored claims Shukri was being bullied. And after her death they ignored these claims again. Her family and friends have had to stand up to school and correct these claims that she was not bullied. 

In June 2019, when she died, the police put in barely any investigation and her death was ruled a tragic accident even though there are signs of foul play like bite marks on her arms and previously mentioned bullying which was ignored by the school board. 

The mayor of Manchester said he would look further into the case on June 8th but as of now nothing else has been publicly said. This is disappointing because Shukri Abdi was murdered and justice needs to be served. Not enough has been done for her.  This is even more shocking when we look at the Madeleine Mcann case, in which a young white girl disappeared 13 years ago and still hasn’t been found.  However, 13 million pounds has gone into a search for her and she has had so much media attention. I’m not saying that Madeline’s life doesn’t matter but here is a clear example of injustice in the UK police- a white girl goes missing and there is so much money and media attention poured into finding her and then a Somali muslim refugee is murdered with evidence of the killers and it’s ruled an accident until after 2 weeks of protesting when her case is reopened. 

So in conclusion our justice system needs to be rewritten and the stories of these people who were wronged need to be written so we don’t forget. Say her name, Shukri Abdi.