Arwen Taylor, university friend and lab partner

To speak about Omar in the past tense is painful, but being able to speak about him at all is something I am grateful for every day. Omar was, and still is, the most incredible person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I say that out of no formality. I felt it when he was with me, and I still feel it now. Every day that I spent with him, he would teach me a little bit more about the beauty of genuine, uncomplicated friendship. He loved fully, cared unapologetically, and gave all of himself to every person around him. He had a beautiful mind, and a warm sense of familiarity about him, regardless of whether you had known him ten years or ten minutes.
Being back in lecture rooms and labs that we used to sit in together has been a surreal feeling, but also bittersweet in a way; we shared so many happy memories that it has been nice to relive them recently. I have always felt grateful that I got to spend so much time with Omar as a result of our shared course; friends first, lab partners second. Our experiments were often unsuccessful, lab sessions were rarely attended on time, and a lack of stationary was common. We often shared one pen between us. Our lab handbooks were filled with each other’s handwriting and (unflattering) portraits we had drawn of each other, our desks were unorganised and results sections were filled with less than accurate numbers. We often used to joke that once someone had worked with both of us together, they would never repeat the same mistake. But Omar had a special way of making every professional uni lecture or lab session feel like being back in primary school; he was forever making jokes, making me laugh, and being so personable that he had every lab technician wrapped around his finger. His intelligence was obvious, and he demonstrated it frequently in the essays and reports he would write. There was no problem that he couldn’t solve, and no topic that he couldn’t master. Biology was never my first choice for a degree and engaging was always a struggle for me, but Omar’s company made even the hardest lecture worthwhile. We operated our uni days on a strict policy of ‘if you go, I’ll go’. He was the only reason I made it onto campus most days.

One of my favourite memories of him was his 21st birthday last year. In the days before he had been sharing pictures and videos with me of the scrapbook you made him; one page for every year. He was particularly interested in showing me the pictures of him camping in Wales; I found it heartwarming that years before we would meet, we were holidaying in the same areas with our families. When I arrived at his birthday party, I didn’t receive so much as a hello; he took me straight upstairs to see the scrapbook in person. The smile on his face was massive as he showed me each memory. The love in those pages was undeniable. My favourite memories from that night were with a small group of people who had collected over time in his room, away from the noise downstairs, his door propped wide open as he asked for our favourite songs and played them by ear on his keyboard. This was the Omar I knew at university; surrounded by love, revelling in the business and commotion of partying and going out, but with the only goal of the night being to spend time with the people he cared about. He found ways to engage with the widest range of different people; many friendships I owe to Omar’s platonic matchmaking ability. In these friendships I believe that he is still with me. I miss him completely
Omar, what an honour to be a small part of your beautiful life. Words could never encapsulate the whole of you. You burned so brightly. I’ll miss you forever.

Arwen x