When tragedy struck BBC journalist Sabbiyah Pervez’s family, life changed overnight. The sudden loss of her sister to suicide forced her to confront grief, faith, and the often-unspoken reality of mental health within our communities. In this deeply moving Tea & Chat session, Sabbiyah shared her personal journey of heartbreak, healing, and resilience.
Sabbiyah was raised in a warm, close-knit family, with a strong sense of duty and love. Her sister, a quiet and deeply caring mother of four, had always been someone who put others first. She struggled in silence, unable to speak about the emotional burden she was carrying. One Friday morning, after a brief visit, Sabbiyah promised to return later. She never imagined it would be the last time she would see her sister alive. That afternoon, the devastating call came. Her sister had attempted to take her own life, and despite the family’s desperate rush to the hospital, it was too late.
In those final moments, surrounded by grief and disbelief, Sabbiyah turned to prayer. As she stood by her sister’s side, she asked Allah for mercy, for peace, and for strength. That prayer marked the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter defined not only by loss, but by purpose.
In the hours after the funeral, she sat on her prayer mat and began to give thanks—for her family, for the support around her, and for the chance to carry on her sister’s legacy. She made a quiet vow that day to always seek the light, even in the darkest moments. Since then, she hasn’t missed a single Fajr prayer. That daily act of devotion became her lifeline—something to hold onto as she learned to live with grief.
At first, her family chose to keep the details of her sister’s death private, out of fear of judgment. Sabbiyah understood their pain but felt compelled to speak the truth. When people asked, she answered honestly. What she found was that many others had experienced similar loss, parents, siblings, friends; yet felt too ashamed or afraid to speak openly. Breaking that silence became part of her healing.
Her sister’s death exposed just how much stigma still surrounds mental health in the community. Sabbiyah reflected on the early signs, postnatal depression, emotional withdrawal and how they had been brushed aside or misunderstood. She spoke about the need for safe spaces, culturally competent therapy, and open conversations. In her words, “If we can’t talk about it, we can’t change it.”
She made the courageous decision to seek therapy, something she once thought she’d never do. “I needed help to feel the pain,” she said. “I was too scared to feel it.” That step transformed her recovery. She also ensured her sister’s children received counselling and began incorporating physical fitness into her routine as a way to manage stress and process emotion. Treadmills and long walks became tools for survival.
Grief, she said, stripped life back to what truly matters. Material things lost their meaning. What remained was faith, family, and a commitment to care deeply for others and for oneself. Today, she’s raising seven children her own and her sister’s with love, stability and compassion. Her message is simple but urgent: those suffering with mental health issues are not alone, and they are not to blame.
As she continues to speak out, Sabbiyah challenges assumptions that faith and mental illness cannot coexist. She reminds us that the mercy of Allah encompasses all struggles, and that seeking help is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of wisdom and strength.
“To Allah we belong, and to Him we return,” she said. “But while we are here, let us walk through life with compassion and understanding, so that no one feels alone in their struggle.”
MWC's Tea & Chat | 9 December 2024
