Yasmin Alibhai-Brown: Don't forget the families that have been torn to shreds

'The scars will always be there, but you can learn to accept the pain so it does not destroy you'

Our imaginations, says the much acclaimed writer and historian Theodore Zeldin, "are inhabited by ghosts". He is describing the everyday hauntings of the past which help us to feel secure at times and terrified at others; optimistic on good days and stubbornly hopeless the next as we reflect constantly on what has passed through our lives. Since 11 September, the traffic of spectres rushing around in the head seems never to stop.

Thousands of miles away from the US, with no victim (as yet) identifiably someone I knew, it is still impossible to get through the night without waking up and thinking of the horror. As soon as my eyes open, old and new images rush in, and the feeling that I have been kicked in the stomach returns.

Millions of people around the world are feeling this way, though not, obviously, the fascist killers (for that is exactly what they are) and their supporters who see these deaths as some kind of victory.

Many of us felt similarly dislocated in July 1995 the day after Srebrenica when 7,300 Muslim men and boys were slaughtered by Serbs in what was meant to be a secure refuge. Shock, anger, and a terrible feeling of insecurity engulfed the world, though not to the extent we have just seen.

Grief, that essential process which individuals, communities and nations need in order to go on living, became almost impossible because there was so much revenge and justice to sort out and because so many of the bodies had disappeared. Four thousand bodies have now been recovered from the mass graves of Srebrenica, of which only 76 have been identified. A Bosnian acquaintance of mine, who had a cousin among the dead, was finally able to bury his remains properly and begin the grieving which had been on hold.

How will relatives and friends of the dead in the US cope when there aren't even remains to put together in a coffin, when dust has truly turned to dust? The lucky may get a piece of the body, but for most there may be nothing.

It is good that big collective events continue to express the sorrow of the nations most hurt by this. But as the world prepares for its "crusade" and we get into excited war-reporting of planes in the skies and big and loud weaponry, we should not forget the smaller pictures, the families of victims who have been torn to shreds.

It is all very well for George Bush to tell people to go to work or shop and get on, in order to show the face of unbowed potency, but that is not going to help the bereaved who have incomplete stories which will remain unresolved.

I think of the man who was asleep when his wife phoned so she had to leave her last words on the answer phone. Does he feel guilty that he missed the last sobs of his wife or relieved that he has this voice forever on tape?

Two victims, a young mother and her six-year-old child, were separated from the father because he was a workaholic. Now he has no will to live. A young Muslim woman who went to New York after her marriage four months ago was killed in the north tower before anyone had had time to get the wedding video and photographs.

In recent years, wilful cynicism has been generated in this country about "armies" of therapists, counsellors and psychologists who turn up like birds of prey at scenes of devastation. People who need these services know just what indispensable work they do.

Thirteen years ago, when my own life fell apart leaving me feeling completely unable to cope, I went to an extraordinary psychotherapist, Jafar Kareem. He taught me how to mourn properly for a dead marriage and start the slow process of healing. The scars, he used to say, will always be there, but you can learn to accept the pain so it does not destroy you. Then he died suddenly, leaving many of his clients bereaved; but we did not fall apart because he had taught us well how to handle loss.

The time it takes to get through the various phases of mourning cannot and should not be hurried. It is not a sign of weakness if it takes someone years to regain stability and some kind of direction.

Just after this latest tragedy, I addressed 2,000 volunteers, including many from the US, who work selflessly for the Samaritans. I recently agreed to become a special ambassador to the organisation because I value the work they do and because once, one deadly night, I felt moved to ring them for help.

There was a terrifying expectancy in the air that day in York, where the meeting was taking place. We all knew that there would be many more calls in the aftermath from people who will not have the will or strength to carry on living. On Friday, a woman who had lost someone in the disaster gave up and jumped off the seventh floor of her apartment in Manhattan. Another life to mourn and it has only just begun.

y.alibhai-brown@independent.co.uk