We all have our memories of that fateful day in September ten years ago. I was at the Canada’s busiest airport when the airplanes hit the twin towers of the World Trade Centre in New York.

As soon as the news came in, Toronto’s Pearson International Airport was shut down completely and all aircraft were grounded. Armed military personnel took over the airport in preparation for any surprise attacks. They had to be prepared for anything especially as the commercial airlines from the US had been diverted to Toronto.

I, as a ticketing agent, had no new information to offer the agitated crowd. All I had was enough time on my hands to listen to each and every one of them speak their minds. They were looking for someone to talk to and I listened.

People around me were glued to the ticket counters hoping to hear something that would bring relief to their hearts. Stranded passengers were worried about whether they would get to their destinations safely. Others had rushed to the airport to inquire about the whereabouts of their loved ones whose flights had been diverted to different cities across North America. They wanted to be sure that their families and loved ones had not been travelling on the planes involved in the attacks.

I, as a ticketing agent, had no new information to offer the agitated crowd. All I had was enough time on my hands to listen to each and every one of them speak their minds. They were looking for someone to talk to and I listened.

A husband didn’t know where his wife was.  A disoriented mother was not aware whether her children were alive or had died in the attacks. There were passengers whose flights were supposed to have diverted to Toronto but had ended up somewhere else. And there were children who needed to be comforted.

Everyone was sad and crying. The atmosphere was overwhelmingly gloomy. Even the news anchorman on the television screen was unable to control his tears and emotions. It was as if the world had come to an end.

And in the midst of this shock and grief, I became the target of anger as some of the ignorant people around me began making heinous comments about Islam and Muslims. As though I had had something to do with the horrific attacks on the WTC.

Muslims died in the 9/11 attacks in New York and Washington and in the last 10 years, Muslims have suffered greatly, and continue to suffer from this tragedy. They are constantly harassed when traveling. Their countries have been invaded, their people have been massacred and many of their charitable organizations have been shut down. Muslims in countries such as Yemen, Somalia, Afghanistan and Pakistan are constantly under the threat of indiscriminate bombings from US warships and warplanes.

In spite of the media’s attempt to portray extremism as a Muslim predicament, the truth is all of humanity is affected by this ailment. Terrorism has no color or creed. Neither does extremism.

Extremism is the reason why George W. Bush could claim that God had instructed him to invade Iraq. Extremism is why Timothy McVeigh and Anders Breivik massacred innocent people in the name of Christianity. Extremism is why rightwing politicians are gaining momentum in Europe and North America by fanning fear about the growing number of Muslim immigrants who they claim intend to take over the West.

We live in an era of extremism where humanity has lost its balance altogether, whether in sport, religion, politics, nationalism and atheism (yes, there are extremist atheists as Mr. Chris Hedges states in his bestselling book When Atheism Becomes Religion).

As we mark the anniversary the terrible 9/11 tragedy, it is time we stop pointing fingers. Instead let us examine why we as humanity have lost our balance.

Abubakar N. Kasim is a Toronto-based writer. ■