Qassem Mohammad Dib Zaiter had just turned 22.
His birthday was on May 1. Five days later, on May 5, 2026, he was killed by Israel.
He was supposed to graduate this year.
Qassem was studying telecommunications engineering and had reached his final year. Only one semester stood between him and graduation—a milestone that had already begun to feel close.
But those who loved Qassem do not remember him simply through what he was studying or what he was about to achieve.
They remember someone who loved life.
He loved going out, laughing and joking. He was rarely far from the people closest to him. Even while studying at university, he made time for his friends and the people he cared about.
At home, his absence is measured differently.
A tribute written for Qassem speaks to him not through dates or achievements, but through the place he occupied in the lives of his family.
يا قاسم يا ضيّ العيونْ
“Qassem, light of our eyes, tender heartbeat.”
يا نبضةَ القلبِ الحنونْ
To his father, he was the shoulder that never bent. To his mother, he was her firstborn, the son in whom she found tenderness and safety.
For his siblings, he was something different to each of them, yet always something essential.
For Nour, he was the person she could lean on through difficult moments: “If ever her heart grew heavy, you were safety and home.”
Batoul remembers the laughter and the sound of his voice. In the tribute, his absence transforms the home itself: “After your voice, the doors of joy in the house closed.”
To Ali, Qassem was a brother and a source of strength. And his younger brother Dib looked up to him, following in his footsteps and hoping to become like him “in character, in actions, and in the way he lived.”
The tribute eventually arrives at the question that follows so many sudden losses:
يا قاسمَ البطل مهلًا…
“Qassem, wait… How did you leave without saying goodbye?”
كيف ارتقيتَ ولم تُوَدّعْ؟
Qassem had only just entered his twenty-second year. He had one semester left at university, plans that had not yet been completed, and a life he was known for loving.
His family’s tribute does not end with the moment he was killed. It ends with what remains:
تبقى بقلبِ أحبّتِكَ
“You remain in the hearts of those who loved you—the memory, the crown, and the refuge.”
الذِكرى… والتاجَ… والملجأَ.