The crooning voice is soft. “Maryam, my little sweetheart, I love you lots and lots. You are my little baby with big fat little feet.” The father of the little girl, cradled in the crook of his right arm, caresses her pudgy limbs as she squirms and babbles in his lap. “Remember me in your dua [prayers]. I will certainly remember you, and, inshallah, things will work out for the best,” he says, voice muffled as he buries his face in her downy hair. “Maryam, be strong, learn to fight – fighting is good. Be Mummy’s best friend. Take care...