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THE MARRIAGE LEAGUE: Part I

`Marriage is the best foundation for personal intimacy, economic stability, and child rearing.’

`Regardless, the best time to work on your marriage is before you have one.’

`Our grandmother began a campaign of counsel and advice about men—how to catch them, how to keep them, and how she believed we should make them happy.’

`She asked me out of the blue if our family was rich. I told her that we weren’t really rich, but we had a lot more than most people.’

For the married students, they were in a different league. They seemed to possess a kind of wisdom which the rest of us had not acquired and which seemed to only come with marriage. Wisdom in its simplest definition was an accumulation of mistakes repeated over time and since part of their mistake-spectrum included those that were being experienced in the marriage institution it was understandable why this wisdom was not accessible to us.

If love was ideal then marriage was a reality. A Kenyan married a Kenyan though this was rare, I’m told due to our capitalistic heritage from the British colonial masters. But what was even more interesting was the clique who had married a partner from a different country; these automatically entered the International Marriage League. They were my favorite. It was the highest game in town. These were the citizens of the world. To go back with a wife in addition to the degree seemed a big plus for me. You had a Ugandan marrying a Kenyan in fact lots of Ugandans had taken our girls that in the beginning one chap would whine as we dismissed him. But when we saw the third Kenyan being taken I was tempted to think Ugandans had a conspiracy to pick all our beautiful girls. We needed to counterattack and the first years would be on the fore front to defend the nation ha! ha! ha! This is crap. It’s all about two people. What was planned in heaven come to pass and no man can put them asunder. A Tanzania married an Ethiopian and much more of that type.

I had attended some of the weddings. Several were in neighbourhood. What was beautiful about them was their simplicity. As men, we are not so much excited by weddings for the simple fact that we are the ones who foot the costs. So the simpler it is, the happier we are. Simplicity is a virtue. For the females because John Gray said Men are from Mars, Women from Venus, it is a totally different case. Venusians compared to Martians are very excited about weddings and the more expensive it is the happier they are. I thought if people were to do things in a simple prophetic way the world would be a better place. As the Venusians demanded expensive weddings and more bride price-more especially outside the campus in town-it came back to haunt them. Martians could not afford and so would postpone the issue to the detriment of the Venusians as more and more it seemed, were reaching menopause before being married. These were considered to be old maids. Even though some were alpha females with full-fledged carriers still deep inside them there were those little girls who wanted to be told how beautiful they were. Otherwise they were lonely and would remain so till old age. Then they would fill our heads with talk of death, superstition and the curses of menopause. Some would resort to living with cats. In the event of the cats dying we would be expected to offer our condolences for the loss of cats.

By the way being single too was economically expensive as in one of the relatives would just come in and stay as long as he want and then demand money before leaving. They would confidently do this since you did not have a family to take care of. We had the Martians who postponed marriage too as they thought they had to build an empire first but they got it wrong. Time would later not favor them. If one was to marry at forty and the next generation still marries at forty then somewhere along, one would have an octogenarian parent and toddlers to support. The initiator of that game would have less time to spend with grandchildren at eighty an age most of this generation would not reach since our age is between sixty and seventy. And what a sad sight, seeing octogenarians coming to the hospital to meet their granddaughter and wonder how long they might be there for her at least to participate in the joys of her upbringing. Maybe we should stop wasting time in the pursuit of things that may not matter on our death bed. Most rich men usually state on dying that they would have loved to spend more time with their families rather than create more wealth.

All this talk about suicides and depression got me thinking.

I can remember the number of times crossing the Nyali Bridge in Mombasa on foot, and looking at the water far down there and thinking, what if I just ended all of it, right there? There would be a funeral, and in a couple of months everyone would forget about me and life would continue. And my pain would be done away with.

In retrospect, what got me across the bridge to the other side every time was thoughts of my family. And friends. Knowing how much they loved me and how much my exit would hurt them. And the fact that there’s so much I haven’t done yet.

And then once in a while we joke about how attempted suicide is criminal. We don’t talk about that shrill voice in the head telling you if you are going to do it, you have to make sure it works — so you don’t have to be there to deal with the repercussions.

I have a couple of friends with whom with we have long conversations that span hours, whenever either of us is feeling down. The smile on my face after such a call is often enough reason to push through another week. It’s recharging, therapeutic too.

I have read and heard people saying to reach out if one is feeling depressed. Listen, depression doesn’t take away someone’s need for company and reassurance, it just takes away their ability. When you are depressed, you don’t feel like doing anything, seeing anyone, or talking to anyone. You want to, but you simply don’t have the energy to even attempt anything. Telling depressed people to reach out isn’t the way — one needs to be really strong emotionally for that to happen — but depression strips most of the strength and resilience away.

In my opinion, only way to beat depression and perhaps stop these suicides is going back to humanity. Let’s be more caring and loving — towards those around us. Especially those who are usually strong. Remember, the higher you go the harder you fall. The strong person is hit harder because depression brings them down from a very high place. Reach out to them, instead of waiting for them to.

There’s people we have random conversations with, in the middle of the day or late in the night, about nothing in particular, but the joy these conversations bring about are worth every single second and cent spend.

To those who have been in that dark place before like myself, build yourself a support system when you are still strong — they will hold you when you are down. Make friends — lots — and develop really deep relationships with them. Call on the people in your life randomly just to check in. Make it a part of your life, a habit. Make sure the people closest to you know how you are doing — and you know how they are doing.

You are no more human than the next person, but neither are you without them.

When you hear Netflix, the next word that comes to mind is Chill, yeah? Lol. Chill. Of the many shows on Netflix, the one I hate the most is 13 Reasons Why. Lubnah had to beg me, several times to watch it. Bruh, that show is suicidal af. That’s what I thought when I saw the promos all over Facebook/Instagram.

So one day I’m really bored and I watch the series, because Lubnah insisted on saving them on my laptop with words close to if not at all ‘you’ll watch it when you’re ready to or when you run out of stuff to watch and re-run’.

My thoughts are confirmed. That series was wild from the word go! And not wild in a good way. P.S I’m not making a review or rating it but I think if anything they gratified Suicide, instead of preventing it by causing awareness. I mean at the end of the day, the girl did slit her wrists and died in a bathtub or whatever. It is so dark in such a way that I fear some not so smart kid, will borrow a leaf from Hannah Baker’s book and you know record shit on CD or Flash Drive just so she could make everyone who hurt her pay. After their death.

I know, at this point you’re all thinking like “Why is she being insensitive to stuff she probably hasn’t gone through”. This is obviously the most polite way of telling me I’m a b#tch. I am not about to disregard Mental Disorders because I for one know that they’re as real as they can be. I might not have had an episode of a nervous breakdown but I know of people close to me who have. Or at least on several occasions spiraled out of ‘normality’ and go down the rabbit hole. That place is shitty as hell because it’s like fighting to live when you’re drowning, but then you wanna give up and go like mahn,let’s just get it over with.

Bulimia isn’t a cute brown haired girl with her friend pulling back her hair as she makes her way out of a classy hotel after glaming herself in the washroom. It’s a puffed face girl with vomit trickling down her cheeks. Anorexia isn’t someone shyly refusing to eat a cupcake. It’s constant avoiding food because paranoia. Don’t even get me started with Depression, that shit isn’t a TV show model with smudged mascara down her face, it’s staying awake at night staring at the ceiling and wishing you could for once close your eyes without tearing up and wish you’d be like everyone else. Anxiety and Panic attacks aren’t just hyperventilating and shortness of breath where some cute guy will surprise kiss you so you can get your breathing pattern together, it’s walking in late in a room full of people thinking they’re judging you or sitting in a room full of people and fight the urge to make your way to the toilet when you’re so pressed. Self harm is not a cute boy raining kisses or caressing your scars, it’s a constant fringing reminder that one day you gave up all your will to live and decided that that is perhaps the easiest way out, it’s wearing long sleeves because your hands sting when water runs on them. So stop romanticizing and covering up all the mental disorders with effects that teenagers would adapt and imitate.

You know like how HIV/AIDS revolves around some super powerful virus thwarting your white blood cells and making them so weak to an extent even the weaklings of all bacteria on the surrounding make your immune system useless, Mental Disorders is having super powerful invisible people each trying to dominate your mind all at once and your mind becomes so fringing clueless on which to follow it becomes confused by its own self. This is as close as I can come to defining what a mental disorder is.

Sometimes I think suicide is for cowards. Perhaps this is the half part of me that hasn’t had a mental crisis. The logical and there’s an answer to everything. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to undermine anyone who’s ever had suicidal thoughts…but come on man…you’re better than that. Life is too short to be living under constant pressure from your own self. But then, there’s the other compassionate and empathetic half of me that thinks like have I considered how many times this person tried to talk to anyone about it and they disregarded them. Because people, like 80% of all of us think its non existent and just say ‘you’ll get better’; and when they finally acknowledge its existence, they think its something that is curable, like take a pill and you know Pharmacokinetics will play its part and you’ll get well. It doesn’t happen that way. A person with anxiety needs constant reassurance that it is not going to end as horribly as their brain made it to be. Or that the weirdly giant web of entangled thoughts are just but thoughts that they have control over; because really, they don’t.

There was the old guy, the comedian who killed himself…Robbin Williams, I loved him as Genie in Aladdin and the Nanny in Mrs. Doubtfire. He killed himself but then his wife attributes his cause of suicide as a struggle with Lewy Body disease. This brings me back to my point, how people close to the affected ones shun their suffering because ‘Oi, its effects are not medically tangible you know’ I mean I could be having anger management issues and spontaneous anger outbursts that lead to displacement..like hitting stuff to breaking point. That people will acknowledge because its effect is seen. You damaged stuff, but for a depressed person, they’ll just consider you sad and so like yeah, just get up and go be happy because someone out there is not as ‘fortunate’ as you are.

The other day a 26 yr old French guy of Pakistani origin threw himself of the Tawwaf ring at Makkah is it. So many theories revolve around my head. You know like perhaps he had been battling depression, and no one notices this and he is left to literally withdraw himself from society, but then this is where perhaps religion comes in and so he goes like ‘Lemme go for Umrah, the peace and solitude will make me feel better’ but obviously that’s not it so he ends up throwing himself and him plummeting to his death.

But is suicide really the end game? I mean yes you’re dead…but when you die…it is not you who feels your death…it is the people close to you, your loved ones. Those are the people who feel the consequences in the world. That’s not the end of it though, is it? I mean yeah, so you killed yourself…you’d expect God and His angels to like welcome you with open arms? Like he had been fighting this for so long we were waiting for you to come home. That’s not it… Allah says (interpretation of the meaning): “… And do not kill yourselves (nor kill one another). Surely, Allaah is Most Merciful to you. And whoever commits that through aggression and injustice, We shall cast him into the Fire, and that is easy for Allah” [al-Nisa’ 4:29]

Abu Hurayrah (radi Allahu anhu) narrated that the Prophet (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Whoever throws himself down from a mountain and kills himself will be in the Fire of Hell, throwing himself down therein forever and ever. Whoever takes poison and kills himself, his poison will be in his hand and he will be sipping it in the Fire of Hell forever and ever. Whoever kills himself with a piece of iron, that piece of iron will be in his hand and he will be stabbing himself in the stomach with it in the Fire of Hell, forever and ever.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

It was narrated from Thaabit ibn al-Dahhaak (radi Allahu anhu) that the Messenger of Allah (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Whoever kills himself with something in this world will be punished with it on the Day of Resurrection.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

And in the full narration of the Hadith in discussion (and with a different translation) it was narrated that Jundub ibn ‘Abd-Allah (radi Allahu anhu) said: The Messenger of Allah (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Among those who came before you there was a man who was wounded and he panicked, so he took a knife and cut his hand with it, and the blood did not stop flowing until he died. Allah said: ‘My slave hastened to bring about his demise; I have forbidden Paradise to him.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

This might come out harsh you know…but then God doesn’t give you a burden you can’t bear, just do everything else but don’t you ever give up on God yo! I mean yeah it’s hard and all but it is said that no affliction shall befall a man, But from it is a sin is expiated. Why you insist on getting to Jahannam when Allah has willed for you paradise for your perseverance and endurance? But then again who knows perhaps the said person was a believer in Allah and His Messenger and a follower of Tawheed, not a mushrik, so that automatically makes him subjected to the will of Allah. If Allah wills He will forgive him, and if He wills He will punish him, but even if He punishes him He will eventually bring him forth from the Fire, because Allah says (interpretation of the meaning): “Verily, Allah forgives not that partners should be set up with Him (in worship), but He forgives except that (anything else) to whom He wills” [al-Nisa’ 4:48]

This clearly shows how much suicide is considered NOT THE WAY OUT.

Oh dear hurting, wavering soul, talk, talk and talk to anyone and everyone about it. Shout if you have to so that some years later, a boy/girl can proudly speak up because you projected their words. Talk so that not another single human would resolve to suicide by wondering at what point in time did they lose their voices. Talk because talking already makes it better. I mean you’re spewing your messed up thoughts to someone real not the virtual horcruxes in your mind trying to take over and that they’re going to be there for you and help you by constantly reassuring youre actually not insane.

And as for the ‘normals’, be a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to lean on when things get rough for someone close to you. Stop being close minded about Mental Illness because it’s as real as Multiple Sclerosis and Lupus and Cancer.

Also, I know I might come off b#tchy and all, but yeah, I promise I’ll try to listen to you when you wanna b#tch about your ‘virtual dweller’. Also I’m a good secret keeper, James and Lily Potter would still be alive if they hadn’t chosen the rat coz he snitched…I might tell Lubnah though, coz she’s like 99% feely and I’m 99% assertive….but that’s about it. She might reach out and be there for you…because she’s a darling like that. Just Kidding, I kinda have myself vested in the Patient Doctor confidentiality so your troubles are safe with me.☺☺

When I was 10 years old and the dream of becoming a doctor was still beautiful and naive, I met with Dr. Khadija. In my memory, I can still see this lady in full hijab plus niqab walking quickly towards my dad and I, apologizing for being late and excusing herself to go and change. When she came back, she had not done much of changing except for removing her niqab and putting on her white coat. As we walked around the hospital to have various tests done, I remember seeing eyes looking at her with such admiration, respect; she was the doctor, who would dare disrespect a doctor. And right then I knew that I wanted to be a doctor like her i;e never abandoning my hijab for my career.

Well that was long ago. I was too naive for this world. I never knew Islamophobia existed or could exist, I saw any Muslim lady without hijab to be lacking and I seriously did not understand the struggle people might be going through to be able to adorn the hijab. Right now I can say I know better. I have experienced discrimination due to my hijab, I know people who have undergone nasty situations because of it and all over social media we see sisters from different parts of the world being treated unfairly due to hijab. The enemies of Islam and Muslims are doing their best to ensure the world perceive hijab as a form of oppression, danger, threat, terrorism, naivety, uneducated, backward or any other word that makes it as something negative as possible. Thus the need for more correct information to be put out there and so I write.

When the topic, ”Acceptance in the community” is being discussed, we readily look at the ones bleaching their skins, the ones wearing weaves, those who cannot leave their homes without make up or those killing themselves with impossible diets for the sake of losing weight or staying in shape. We rarely look at a Muslim lady in trouser suit and a headscarf on the head. We have all silently agreed that this is the correct look for a career Muslim lady, or something similar. Creating another form of discrimination amongst ourselves. So the ones who put on the jelbab, niqab and abaya are most probably house wives or have studied religion. For us who are engineers, doctors, lawyers, politicians and business ladies, we have our hijab adjusted to fit fashion. To make it more acceptable to our colleagues.

We have worked hard while studying for different fields of career, we did so while adorning full hijab hopefully, why then after we succeed we are quick to adjust the hijab? Why are we the ones giving the world the impression that the correct hijab is a form of limitation to our careers? What exactly does it limit us to do? Look pretty and learned? Do we realize that the message we are passing to our young ones is, the correct hijab is only for when they are in high school and below, after that it is not that necessary? When did it become more important for us to fit into the trending fashions and for our dress code to be accepted by our colleagues than abide by the laws of our Creator?

To others it might just be a dress code but we know too well that to us it is a statement of faith. A statement that the faith that we have accepted in our hearts, we are letting it show on the outside too. Making it even more important to make this statement correctly. This is a call and reminder to myself first then to you my sisters out there, lets put in the utmost effort in portraying our Faith correctly. It’s not only about being better role models to our young ones and among ourselves but it is a way of killing the stereotypes. Putting an end to thoughts such as hijab being a limitation or prevention for us to be whatever we might want to be. It will also allow any other lady interested in Islam access to correct image of a Muslim lady when she is outside her home.

We might not know this or might have chosen to ignore it; but it is true we dictate how the world treat us as individuals and also as a nation. Yes it has become hard and even dangerous to wear a headscarf let alone a full hijab. I know me suggesting this automatically qualifies my name to be under the extremists as per current world, people who make the religion difficult. I’m still not discouraged from reminding myself and my sisters. May be through this reminder, you and I will be able to create a world where correct hijab is normal. And as I have always said, lets take comfort and courage in ”… and whoever fears Allah- He will make for him a way out. And provide for him from where he does not expect. And whoever relies upon Allah- then He is sufficient for him.” (Qur’an 65:2-3). The goal is to attain Taqwa and yaqeen. Having full trust in Allah that my adorning the correct hijab is not an hindrance to reach my worldly goals nor a source of problems with others; rather an addition to my rewards and hopefully blessings in my life. And as someone puts it. ”if you stand up for All (meaning swalah) you can stand up to anything.”

One of my best friend’s dreams is to own a range rover and she would tell me how she can’t wait to be driving her range while in full hijab plus niqab. I say why stop at range? Dream of a ride in your sports car or convertible with the roof open and let your hijab be blown by the wind, with your sun glasses on. My dream is to own a motorcycle. I’m not a fun of thriller rides so this dream is usually an LOL to my friends but still, I can’t wait to take off my helmet at the end of that ride and flip my hijab. Wearing hijab should not stop you from being cool.

May Allah make it easy for us to present Islam in the correct way and may He fill our hearts with taqwa and full trust in Him, ameen.


Talking of hijab, we have an amazing hijab event coming up soon in shaa Allah. Don’t miss out! Check details in the poster below.

“Fun, how does one have fun?” a million dollar question that has taken roots in the crevices of your being. “Ooh just get the hell out of your head” a Morgan Freeman like voice from the dungeon of nothingness quips. Fair enough, so you get out of your head and then you’re more or less like a drunkard saying anything your mouth will expel with sprinkles of saliva. Stop right there. This right here is your problem my friend. Judgement. Jeez, give yourself a break !

So there’s one Ali. 5’ 8”, lean with muscles clasping on to his body like a fresh, dehydrated and nicely roasted Bruce lee so that the contours of his muscles descend into valleys of seductive which oestrogen charged members of the human species will naturally want to feel.
But that’s besides the point. Point is, this guy doesn’t give a damn about anything. Not in a fortune-500- CEO kind of way. If you know what I mean. If you don’t, most of those dudes are snakes in suits with psychopathic disorders. So our friend Ali is not like that. He just doesn’t care because he’s always having fun. Okay I may have exaggerated there. He sometimes gets concerned when certain girls from certain ethnic/ religious groups ‘distance’ themselves from him because he’s different. I tell you it pisses him. He demonizes them in the most colorful ways possible. Labels them as enemies and gets out of their range. And even that doesn’t consume even 0.5% of his mind space. And even the remaining 99.5% seems like an empty space because he’ll gladly tell you the only city he’d like to visit in Africa is Dubai.

At first you cringe but he couldn’t care less about your judgement at the moment because he’s clearly having the time of his life. But you try to correct him, and he goes “ ooh..so I really love Dubai”. Your critique is suddenly transfigured into a minuscule spec by the vast universe that his “empty” unassuming mind is. What do you do? You get amused and get sucked into his fun laden vibe. You adapt your communication to his level or rather he effortlessly and unintentionally forces you to have fun within his inaccurate but entertaining worldview. You’ll laugh, make weird intonations with your voices that sound so cool; invent a la-r-nguage that adds letter ‘r or g’ within every english wor-g-d possible. And I tell you people dig that stuff. They dig it the way they dig Big Shaq’s ‘Man’s not hot’. From misplacing a city in a wrong continent to defiling English you’ll suddenly give yourself the latitude to be the drunkard you once judged him for. Ooh snap, you suspended your judgement!. Like how I’ve just added a period after the exclamation mark without noticing.

He will then live to go for a Zumba session at his Gym while you go back into the mega project that you are: The career you want to build; the relationship goals that you have; the impact you’d want to live; the weight you want to lose; what you’ll want to cook for dinner and the pile of laundry that awaits you. You begin the downward spiral of monitoring and evaluation as though your life is a United Nations agency. Like dude get over yourself! you’re just a tiny spec of sand in the Milky Way galaxy that has thousands of solar systems.

And now you’re back into that hyper logical mode that only helps you find what’s inaccurate about Ali’s geographical misinformation while he basks in the glory of an “empty” mind and generously shares it with you. And by the way his mind is literally empty because he’s not running a quality control programme in it. He just lives life in the moment. He’s happy or is he?

You want to live like him and be happy but that dude has not paid his rent for the past three months! He says he has big plans for a modeling career that has yet to take off. He’s so much fun that ladies prefer to friend zone him or use him as a rebound until their emotional equilibrium is restored. Some toy with him, in the meantime, until they find a serious prospect. They say he can’t be taken seriously. And yet he’s the least worried, most exuberant creature you’ll ever meet.

In the end you ask: How does one become an Ali with a sense of direction?

The sun sets beneath the hills that are stretched into the distance as I lazily sit on a couch while I enjoy the spectacular view. “No two sunsets are ever the same,” I soliloquise, enamoured by the ever changing hues of the sky, shifting from gold, to pink and eventually, black.

You see, sunsets make me sad for a variety of reasons and sometimes, for no reason at all.
They make me think of another day wasted with procrastination, beating myself up for not studying or doing some other mundane task. They also make me think of the impending doom that is about to befall this world, as the list of events prophesied over an aeon ago are fulfilled one by one. Other times, it simply reminds me that beautiful things are often fleeting at best, and in the end all men must die. I digress, or so it seems, but that is one of the reasons I love Kenya. The sunsets here are beautiful. A liken Kenya to a mother with over forty children, who fight each other for the biggest piece of meat. Some children are stronger than the others, and so they take from their weaker siblings and share major parts among themselves, leaving the rest starving or dissatisfied. So what do the weaker siblings do? They band against their stronger counterparts with the hopes of taking the meat that they possess and making it theirs. All the while, mama Kenya silently weeps and whispers, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

I’ve always thought of running away to some first world country where I’ll have a better chance of living a good life than here. All the goings on that occur on a daily basis have been met with indifference on my part, because I felt that it didn’t concern me. But now I find myself checking the news and looking up on the country’s economy. I’m curious to know who did what and which firm invested where. I get pissed off when politicians threaten to upset the current peace by inciting violence which once upon a time brought mama Kenya to her knees and almost took her to a point of no return.

It took me a while to realise this but…I actually love my country and care about whatever happens to it. Frankly, Kenya is a messed up country, but it is my messed up country. It’s the place where I was born and raised, where I felt love, joy, anger, sadness and pain. It’s a place I call home. When someone you care about is in a bad state, you try your best to rectify them instead of running away and letting them suffer. I believe we are at a critical point in our country’s future and we need to ensure that nothing happens that will jeopardize this future. If we are to pull off a Singapore and become one of the world’s leading economies, then we really need to put mama Kenya’s wishes ahead of our own and share the meat fairly and equitably, so that all siblings may truly love one another and make their mother proud.

Education is a very vital tool that is used in contemporary world to succeed. It is the attainment of knowledge typically in educational institutions.

One of the biggest and most recent educational avenues in our contemporary world is educational travel. From studying abroad, annual field trips, huge senior trips, week-long marching band getaways. . . let’s face it, there are many ways for students who want to learn outside of the educational institutions.

Educational travel is the successful combination of tours, site visits, and hands-on learning opportunities that meet clear and concise learning objectives, however travel in general is an educational experience in itself as it brings people into a new perspective.

When you add in the intentional educational part of traveling, you get an abundantly useful and memorable experience you will never, and can never, replace with any other lesson.

There a few opportunities for educational travel in Africa, for example:

Art Noise is introducing a residency travel program to recruit independent creatives of Africa or Black descent and those of non-African descent as well who have interest in African arts and culture to engage in a three month travel program in over 3 different African countries for 2018.

The Program is designed for independent visual creatives, designers, and cultural studies students across the world and aims at benefiting students by providing them with valuable educational and work experience in contemporary and ancient African arts and culture and by assisting them in accomplishing their goals. There are opportunities to work with various creative sectors and demographics of people in our selected countries.

Allowance, travel, health, accommodation, safety and insurance will be available all to students selected for the program and this program is open to individuals in any level of education (regardless of their admission status) between the ages of 18 – 35 years and provides the opportunity to work within Africa and to gain experience in various areas.

For more information: Artnoise Travel residency http://artnoiseng.com/art-noise-residency-travel-program/

Here are some more opportunities for you:

Africa Bicycle Tours http://www.ibike.org/ibike/africa.htm

Ontdek Kenya educational travel  http://www.ontdekkenya.com/

EduTours Africa https://www.edutoursafrica.com/

 

So now, what are the benefits from educational travel? Well, there’s probably too many to list, but here’s a start:

*Experience new cultures and Increase intercultural knowledge

*Gain independence and leadership skills.

*Get a new/better perspective on history.

*Experience a hands-on learning opportunity.

*Gain crucial language experience.

So select an educational travel avenue and you won’t regret it!

Photo Courtesy: www.pixabay.com

In many motivational speeches or writings, one thing the speaker or author encourages his/her audience to do is answer this question: “What is my purpose in life?”
It is as simple and complex as it is. The question automatically brings about more question to mind. Like; why am I doing what I’m doing? Is it what I was meant to do? Do i benefit from it? Are my loved ones benefiting from it? Does it make the world a better place? Etcetera etcetera.

But when we come back to the book of Allah, He states clearly;
“And I created not the Jinn and mankind except that they should worship Me (alone)”
When you look at it this way doesn’t it seem easier? Well it does when you look at “worship” only in terms of the five daily prayers, fasting, zakat and hajj. But in addition to the latter there are numerous way of worshipping Allah. Isn’t it in the same Qur’an that Allah reminds us that He has given us minds and challenges us to actually think? That we should go out and explore the world? That we shoud seek knowledge? Thus personally, I define worship as that which pleases Allah. In this way , I easily find my purpose in life and be able to broaden it from the five pillars of islam to much more.

Still, the question is not what is your purpose in life? The real question is why aren’t you after it? If the main reason I am in this world is to please Allah then why am I not doing that?

Fear… it holds us back in achieving our purpose of living. I am not going to be the one to initiate peace between my arguing friends because I fear I might get caught up in the middle of it. I am not going to write the book because I fear they might not like it. I won’t be a public speaker because I fear I might lose my words. I am not going to start that business because I fear the risks and loss that I might encounter…and it goes on and on.

Most of us already know what we ought to be doing in order to please our Creator, to leave behind a great legacy, to create a better world but we let fear prevent us from acting. May be if we start thinking about our purpose in life being directly linked to pleasing our Creator, it will help us fight our fears. At the end of it all, Allah does not look at how great you did what you did, He is more interested in the struggle and intention of your actions. So, stop worrying about being good, being enough or being good enough and just be. Be among those who pleases their Creator.

Picha: https://pixabay.com

Sikilizeni kwa makini, mwenzenu nipo matatani…
Kwa mkubwa mtihani, ulonipata duniani…
Na nimekita mawazoni, sijui nifanye nini..
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Mimi ni mke nyumbani, na pia mimi ni mama…
Pili nilikua shuleni, na chuo kikuu kusoma..
Kishida nilisoma jamani, kwa juhudi zake mama..
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Kwa kupenda Rabana, shahada nikatunikiwa..
Kwa kweli niling’ang’ana, mwishoe nikafanikiwa..
Nikapata wangu bwana, harusi nikafanyiwa..
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Sasa nipo kwenye ndoa, mume wangu kakatalia
Amelitia kubwa doa, ndoto zangu kutimia…
Nikimweleza huniondoa, hataki kamwe kusikia…
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Hataki nifanye kazi, ataka nikae nyumbani..
Kinyume atakavyo mzazi, niwasaidie mashinani..
Hawana kazi wala bazi, na watoto tele nyumbani…
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Nina madada nyumbani, bado wapo masomoni..
Kuwasaidia natamani, ila kweli siwezani…
Imenipa tafshani, nakaa bila amani…
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Kando na ya nyumbani, ninazo ndoto zengine…
Uhandisi uwanjani, nifanye kama wengine…
Hunichoma roho ndani, nikashindwa nisinene..
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Nawaomba ushauri, njia ipi nifatilie..
Niende zangu kazini, wazazi wafurahie..
Au nikae nyumbani, mume wangu aridhie..
Nimefika njia panda, jamani nifate ipi?

Asanteni.

Photo Courtesy: https://pixabay.com

It is 3 days to Eid…My aunt says it is okay to go out to check out stuff in the shops at night. There’s music and loads of people outside. I mean that’s an understatement in Amu. We’ve made our rounds, have sat at the sea front and ate our ice-creams, and now are heading back home. We have passed the ‘main road’ and are walking towards the narrow path that’s going to lead us home and two guys are cat calling behind us. Actually, they have been ever since we met them out side a shop but we just ignored them. One was carrying these metallic curtain poles or whatever…and the other, holding the plastic material that was covering them. I assume they either fell off or seemed too slippery for the other guy to be carrying the poles. We’ve ignored them for a while and the guy carrying the plastics, walks too closely and rubs the plastics against each other making weird sounds at us. I stop, abruptly and turn towards him. ‘Didn’t expect that mufaka, did you?’ (No, I didn’t tell him this…it is what came to mind when I saw the horror on his face) He halts and is clearly stunned.
“Haya sasa niambie…kule likua siezi smama sabu kuna watu wengi. Wataka nini?” I tell him.
He is out of words. The expression on his face, I’d pay a thousand dimes to look at again. He is quiet. The other guy laughs at him. I stand my ground still staring at him and he says “Staki kitu”
” Basi acha kuita watu njiani kama paka wa babako,” and we continue walking and he stops his weird hauls.

That was bitchy? Or that was bravery?

Boys,-and yeah I’m saying boys because no grown, matured man in his right mind would do that kinda nonsense- what is it that you want from girls that whenever they pass around a group of you, you definitely have to talk weird shit about/to them? To whom exactly do you want to prove that you’re a guy and she a girl? With whom exactly are you trying to have a cheap and weird conversation? And most of all, why is it that as a girl I cannot be left alone to walk in silence or without my heart skipping a beat like ‘Oh boy here comes the catcalls’ as I play in mind what to or what not to reply back? I have replied on one occasion when some dude went on like ‘Salamu haitii mimba’ with ‘Hii yako yatia mimba ya upepo…takiani kuzaa mashuzi mimi’ while I walked away.

Onto another scenario. A girl is dressed nicely, or skimpily for that matter. Does that mean they are calling for you to attack them with weird comments about their body features? I mean where on the world’s record was it mentioned that whenever I dress, its a guy I wanna impress? That aside. So you meet a girl, all hijabed up and all, you make a pass at her. She ignores it, clearly indicating that she isn’t at all interested. What gives you the right to insult her? Or even worse insist. Listen boo-boo…I am not interested and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind. I will ignore you and when you can’t seem to shut up, I will slap you with a single comeback which will either make you feel as small as you literally are, or will make you Slap/Hit me. (That’s a case for another day). The same goes for online sexual bullying. The number of times girls have felt insecure and always always self-conscious about what to expect from dudes is alarming. What makes you think that just because I am replying or reacting to your comment mean I want anything personal to do with you? Why can it not be all joking and fun and you just had to bring feelings into this whole thing making it weird?!

This isn’t all. And this is so unfair. I read one time on tumblr, a post where a girl said her sister was doing some research, and she wanted to see if say we are walking towards each other (I mean girl and guy). Who is supposed to let who pass first. The girl concluded with ‘So far, she( the sister) has collided with 20 men.’ I tried to do this once on the road towards Sawa Centre. It is so crowded with people and tuktuks and you’re right…I did have to put up my hands in front so guys don’t bump on me. Don’t worry religious freaks, I know you’re all ready to hit me with ‘This is why Rasoul (S.A.W) forbade women from going to the markets.’ Which is all okay until you realize you don’t have a male in the house and have to go to the ‘market’ by yourself. My point is, why is it that just because I am the girl, I am always the one to be on the sideline? To always be on the look out. When Rasoul talked of hayaa and lowering of gaze, did he at any point restrict it to females only? IDK, educate me.

I have gone to class with boys, I have taken the same exam as them and I might say even topped the exams. I am in a faculty, one that has men in it. Lets say it’s Corporate Business or Media. Why is it that every other aspect of me is stepped on and looked down upon and only my feminine nature pops up and gets your attention? Why is it that I,- a hardworking and so very potential and awesome woman- will be subjected to sexual harassment or asked for sexual favors before I am promoted. Or why is it that I cannot be treated fairly to a male workmate, just because I am a female, and that the equal treatment is made to look to me as a favor someone is pulling for me…and yeah I have to return the favor, sexually? I think its what they call it ‘Sleeping your way to Success’.

Why is it that guys, who are well off in some way or another think they’re the real deal, and that just because of that, they have the audacity to make a woman feel less of a person? Why is it that we are all treating it as normal for a guy to demand or make passes at girls-yeah several-just because they’re male? Why is it that it is always my fault as a girl for being too free to be out there thus calling for weird attention? Why is it that it is the girl who should stop a weird pass made at her, otherwise it will send a message that she wants it and is totally okay with it. Like why is it that its okay for boys to do all that and they get away with the notion ‘Boys will always be Boys?’ and as a girl have to justify myself. Why is it that y’all people don’t address this and make it clear that females are humans and for once don’t look at what she’s wearing and instead look at what she’s bringing to the goddamn table because ‘damn! half her beauty is her brains’? And most of all, why is it that y’all think being made weird passes at or getting uncalled for sexual advances is the rent a girl has to pay to exist on earth as a female?

Jus’ Birkoff…No Seriously, Back Off.