No sooner had my husband’s clan, the Banu ‘Abd al-Asad, seen them drag me and my child away than they flew into a rage and cried, “By Allah, we will not leave the boy with your people after you have torn his mother from our kinsman by force. The child is ours, and we have the stronger claim to him!”

Then they began pulling little Salamah back and forth before my very eyes until they wrenched his arm from its socket and carried him off.

In a matter of moments I found myself utterly torn apart and all alone: my husband had set off for Medina to safeguard his faith and his life; my son had been snatched from my arms by the Banu ‘Abd al-Asad, his body broken and his spirit crushed (1); and I myself had been seized by my own people, the Banu Makhzum, who kept me under their control