A Rohingya man in New York died under mysterious circumstances— his relatives in Georgia are grappling with the loss

Rosheeda Binti Abu Sayad sits in an armchair in her home in Stone Mountain. Her husband is in Gainesville, working at a chicken factory, but her home is full: Her toddlers bounce in and out of the room, and sunlight peeks through the drawn curtains. She speaks loudly and quickly, her words tumbling out, and then falls silent before speaking again, her words becoming softer, more uncertain. She is talking about her uncle, her father’s brother, Nurul Amin Shah Alam. 

Nurul Amin lived in Buffalo. Rosheeda had hoped to bring him, his wife, and two of their sons to Georgia, where they could join the Atlanta area’s growing Rohingya community and enjoy a climate that was warmer and more familiar. She had even connected her uncle with a local community member, and they had discussed the logistics of renting a van to drive the family south.

Instead, a few weeks ago, Rosheeda flew north for Nurul Amin’s funeral.