Author

Lubnah Abdulhalim


Browsing

Mwandishi: Lali Mohamed
Picha: http://s.ngm.com/
 

Pani kalamu watani, na waraka baidhia
Ninukuu ya huzuni, yanayosibu dhuria
Hunipa shaki moyoni, kashika tama kalia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani.
 

Roho zao masikini, wana wachanga Syria
Wamehiliki machoni, wazazi waangalia
Jitimai na huzuni, Rabi wasahilishia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 

Walokabili jamani, ni jambo la kutishia
Huvamiwa mitaani, wengi wakaangamia
Hata walo majumbani, mikononi kuwafia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani.
 
Wameikosa amani, fazaa zimewangia
Wamengia adhabuni, hawatambui kadhia
Na majumba yako chini, hawana pa kuingia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 

Imewatoka makini, hawakai kutulia
Kutwa kucha mafichoni, adui kumkimbia
Gafula viambizoni, bomu huwarepukia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 

Wamekosa tumaini, amani kuwarudia
Wameita wahisani, bila ya kuitikia
Wamebakia gizani, hatari hata kulia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 

Watoto ni kosa gani, hujuma kuwafanyia?
Kuwabakisha njiani, wazazi wamejifia
Wakala vya majaani, bila tiba na afia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 

Lanikeketa maini, kila nikifikiria
Huwaza wana vitani, huwaje tukawatia?
Walakini ifaeni, imepofuka dunia
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 

Tamati nilobaini, si jambo la kuridhia
Tusiate miswalani, dua kuwakumbukia
Awaizishe Manani, irudi tena Syria
Wana wasio hatia, roho zao tafarani
 
 

If Monday had a low esteem then this is how he would look. But he doesn’t. In fact, he is very self-assured, assertive with several saltbae (I just had to mention him somewhere 😀 ) pinches of an ego.

Mr. Monday always had the ability to get your attention even when after you had sworn upon your own death to NOT even glance at him. He is irresistible. Maybe not the prince-charming kind of irresistible, but the You-can’t-ignore-me kind of irresistible. You can totally close your eyes with the heaviest , darkest blanket yet he would still appear in your nightmares.

Monday is a short, stout man in his mid-thirties. He is brown, a bit plump, with dark hair. He always wore his suits in such a magnificent manner. His attire was so neat, so well-pressed such that a housefly would die just upon his landing on such an attire. His shoes were always extremely polished. They were black, blacker than black because no shade of black was ever going to describe this kind of black. Would make you wonder what is he using? Because hell no, even kiwi is not that black. I mean, you could look at his shoes and see your ugly face reflecting right back. Even the shoes have a prettier look than you do 😀 Monday walked tall always, confidently putting his hands inside his side pockets. If you wear your heart on your sleeve, sweetheart, please meet this man who wears his ego on his sleeve. Despite very well knowing that most people didn’t like him (sometimes for no apparent reason), he would still carry himself with so much aura of awesomeness. So yes, you just. somehow.had to look at him. One way or another. Nonetheless, believe it or not, sometimes Monday was just but a victim of unfortunate coincidences and awful circumstances.

So on this morning, Monday walks up to the stage and meets a crowd of other neat men and women waiting for the bus to arrive. He decides to stands at the far end of the stage, a few steps from a young man drinking his coffee. The young man raises his eyebrows from his coffee cup and looks at Monday. He doesn’t just look, he stares at him as his eyes scrutinize him from head to toe. Monday stares back as his huge bulb eyes narrow as if squinting at the young man. All of a sudden, an old lady bumps into the young man and the good tasty coffee all ends up being swallowed by the plain, sparkling white t-shirt. The young man exclaims with anger. He curses. Then curses again. The old lady tries to apologize but the young man is busy wiping his shirt desperately. He then looks up at Monday with a glare. Giving him that ‘it is your fault’ scowl. Monday shrugs his shoulders and looks away at his watch. He is running late.

The bus finally arrives and everyone quickly rushes in. Monday takes the front seat next to the driver as he watches the young man rush away; probably going back home for a quick change. He adjusts himself in his seat and focuses ahead as the bus takes off. The driver strikes a conversation but it is rather a boring one. Who wants to talk about the weather on the beginning of a fresh week? Monday doesn’t respond to him. The old driver tries once again to bring another topic when a cat suddenly appears on the road. He desperately reaches for the brakes as the bus screeched to a halt. The back passengers start yelling at the old man. “I hit my head!” “Old man you need  spectacles now!” “Urgh! can’t we have a peaceful morning?!! Is that too much to ask for?!” The yells keep coming. The old man frowns before apologizing. He glares at Monday and he stares back without a word. He adjusts himself in his seat then drives off.

Monday walks steadily into the office. He doesn’t greet anyone because no one needs his ‘hi’ anyway. Except Positivity. Right when he passes by her desk, she’d always have a kind word to say or a greeting or just a bright smile. So as usual, Positivity enthusiastically extends her hand to greet him.

“Goodmorning Monday! I hope you had a lovely weekend!”

“Oh hey, goodmorning Pos. My weekend was fine. I hope so was yours,” Monday speaks for the first time.

“Oh yeah…I even got to make my favourite home-baked cookies. You wanna taste?”

“Why not?” He smiles as he takes the cookies from her. He then wishes her a good day before disappearing into his compartment.

Human noisily slides her chair to Pos’ desk.

“Ahem ahem…Pos huh?”

“What is it Human?” Pos laughs lightly without moving her eyes away from her computer screen.

“So now your new nickname is Pos huh?! Nice!”

Positivity laughs again.

“What is the issue anyway?”

“I just don’t get it! How on earth are you able to strike a conversation with Monday, make him talk back and even smile! God! How?!!”

“Because I don’t have an attitude like the one you have.”

“But everyone dislikes Monday. Except you.”

“Okay,” Pos turns around her seat and looks at Human, “So tell me, what wrong has Monday done to you?”

“Can’t you seeee it?!!! The guy is always frowning. Full of negative vibes. I don’t even want to look at him, he might just ruin my entire day. Bad omen…”

Pos laughs at Human’s expression and sits back comfortably.

“Okay, let’s do some profiling here. Have a look at Sunday and give me a short profile on her.”

Human laughs loudly as she looks at Sunday who is fast asleep, her head bowed down on her desk.

“Sunday is always tired and sleepy and lazy…but then…she always makes people happy. She is a nice soul.”

“Okay. What about Saturday?”

Human stretches her neck to peep at Saturday who is busy working on something while whistling.

“He is full of enthusiasm and energy. Always.”

“Friday?”

“Oh my good Lord! Friday is the happiest being on this earth!”

“Thursday?”

“He is not in yet…as usual. He doesn’t come to work much or in time but when he is here, he does his best to make it up. And you wouldn’t even have to complain about how good his work is.

“Okay…Wednesday?”

“Wednesday is a hardworking chap. Got no complaints for him.”

“Tuesday?”

“Tuesday is such an ambitious soul. She knows what she wants.”

“Owwkayy! Now Monday?”

“Urgh!! Told you! Monday is just Monday. No more no less. Or wait, there is a bit more 😀 Monday just brings the gloom to the office. Pos, just look at him! Look at his tight lips that almost never form a smile! He reminds of Trump you know. Gloomy; gloomy miserable chap. Or maybe I shouldn’t compare him with Trump, that would be extreme 😀 But then he.just.doesn’t.give a good feeling.”

“Well, he smiles at me!”

“Ah isn’t that a miracle already? But you are an open-minded soul; a kind one so maybe…or it could just be because of your delicious cookies that you keep bribing him with!”

They both start laughing.

“We both know it has nothing to do with cookies. He has his good side too. You just need to stop focusing too hard at his ugly side. Yes he has issues; maybe too rigid and angry, but maybe he’s got something that makes him this way, something from the past or present, something that makes his plate full always? We can’t ever know. Remember how long it took before he could ever say hi back to me. Yes he isn’t such a charming soul but we all have our off ugly sides too. He probably just needs more friends and he’ll change. If you could find something nice to say about everyone then you can never miss a nice thing to say about him too.”

“Owkaaaayyy Mrs. Mondaaayyy, I’ll think about it maybe! I said maybeeee,” she says as she laughs again; sliding her way back to her desk.

Positivity shakes her head with a sigh, “Attitude. Attitude everywhere.”

 

NOTE: This article is simply about riba in general and doesn’t aim at any specific banking system. Interest also happens a lot in our normal business transactions and initiatives and sometimes we (the clients) are ignorant or unaware about it.

Something interesting always comes up when Muslims start talking about riba/interest/usury-related transactions.Just like we try to ‘halalisize’ (if there is any word like that) many other haraam things in our lives, riba is one of them. We never call a spade a spade simply because hey! who wants to be lectured about interest? So we’d rather call it profit, call it a gift, a reward yet as much as we sugarcoat it, it doesn’t change the fact that it is indeed riba.

The word “Riba”, in Arabic language, literally means an “increment’ or addition”. In Islamic Fiqh the term riba has a special meaning. Riba is an unjustified increment in borrowing or lending money, paid in kind or in money above the amount of loan, as a condition imposed by the lender or voluntarily by the borrower. Riba defined in this way is called in Fiqhriba al-duyun (debt usury). Riba also is an unjustified increment gained by the seller or the buyer if they exchanged goods of the same kind in different quantities. This is called “riba al-fadl” or “riba-al-buyu” (trade usury).

So there are basically two types of riba:

The first and primary type is called Riba An Nasiyah or Riba Al Jahiliya. It is defined as excess, which results from predetermined interest (sood) which a lender receives over and above the principle (Ras ulMaal)
Imam Abu Bakr Hassan Razi has outlined definition of Riba An Nasiyah in the following words: “That kind of loan where specified repayment period and an amount in excess of capital is pre determined.”.
One of the hadith quoted by Ali Ibn Talib (RAA) has defined Riba An Nasiyah in similar words. The Holy Prophet said:”Every loan that draws excess is Riba.”

The famous Sahabi Fazala Bin Obaid has also defined Riba in similar words: “Every loan that draws profit is one of the forms of Riba.”.

The second type is called: Riba Al Fadl. It is defined as excess compensation without any consideration resulting from a sale of goods.

Riba Al Fadl actually means that excess which is taken in exchange of specific homogenous commodities and encountered in their hand-to-hand purchase & sale as explained in the famous hadith: The Prophet said, “Sell gold in exchange of equivalent gold, sell silver in exchange of equivalent silver, sell dates in exchange of equivalent dates, sell wheat- in exchange of equivalent wheat, sell salt in exchange of equivalent salt, sell barley in exchange of equivalent barley, but if a person transacts in excess, it will be usury (Riba). However, sell gold for silver anyway you please on the condition it is hand-to-hand (spot) and sell barley for date anyway you please on the condition it is hand-to-hand (spot)”.

It has clearly been stated in both the qur’an (several ayas) and hadith on prohibiting riba in all manner:
“That they took riba, though they were forbidden and that they devoured men’s substance wrongfully – We have prepared for those among men who reject faith a grievous punishment”
(Qur’an 4:161)

“Those who charge riba are in the same position as those controlled by the devil’s influence. This is because they claim that riba is the same as commerce. However, God permits commerce, and prohibits riba. Thus, whoever heeds this commandment from his Lord, and refrains from riba, he may keep his past earnings, and his judgment rests with God. As for those who persist in riba, they incur Hell, wherein they abide forever”
(Qur’an 2:275)

“Allah condemns riba, and blesses charities. Allah dislikes every disbeliever, guilty. Lo! those who believe and do good works and establish worship and pay the poor-due, their reward is with their Lord and there shall no fear come upon them neither shall they grieve. O you who believe, you shall observe God and refrain from all kinds of riba, if you are believers. If you do not, then expect a war from God and His messenger. But if you repent, you may keep your capitals, without inflicting injustice, or incurring injustice. If the debtor is unable to pay, wait for a better time. If you give up the loan as a charity, it would be better for you, if you only knew.”
(Qur’an 2:276-280)

Jabir said that Allah’s Messenger (may peace be upon him) cursed the accepter of usury and its payer, and one who records it, and the two witnesses, and he said: They are all equal”
(Sahih Muslim)

“It is reported on the authority of Abu Huraira that the Messenger of Allah (may peace be upon him) observed: Avoid the seven noxious things. It was said (by the hearers): What are they, Messenger of Allah? He (the Holy Prophet) replied: Associating anything with Allah, magic, killing of one whom God has declared inviolate without a just cause, consuming the property of an orphan, and consuming of usury, turning back when the army advances, and slandering chaste women who are believers, but unwary.
(Sahih Muslim)

Now if we were to illustrate Conventional banking to Islamic banking this is how the cycle goes:

In as much as we have the interest-free Islamic banking methods, Muslims still opt for the tempting money rather than their akhera. There is a certain product usually offered in banks that is called a fixed deposit which is one of the most common accounts. With the help of a Muslim banker I got comprehend this:
There are various interest earning accounts in banks today, the most common ones are:-
• Savings account
• Call deposit account
• Fixed deposit account

Savings Account: – This one of the most common banks’ product. It is an account where you can deposit any amount of money but the withdrawals are limited for the sole purpose of making the customer save money for his own benefit. This is an interest earning account where the larger the sum of money in your account the more interest one earns but at a lower interest rate. It has no maturity date meaning you can withdraw any time you feel like it.

Call Deposit: – This is one of the not so popular type of an account offered by commercial banks (not Islamic banks). In this account, the customer enjoys instant access to his/her money and unlimited withdrawals and deposits. The call deposit client also enjoys benefits of a savings account through accrual of interest (cumulated interest of previous months). The difference between Call deposit account and savings account is that Call deposit account has a fair interest rate than a savings account. Some commercial banks offer call deposit with a maturity rate but monthly wise and not annually.

Fixed Deposit: –This is one of the most popular interest earning account offered by all types of banks. A Fixed deposit account is an account where a client deposits a certain amount of money as the principal amount with a maturity rate which is annually. The maturity period is where a client is allowed to withdraw the amount he/she had deposited initially or the whole amount in the account and close it. Here, the higher the deposit the better the interest rate and the higher the interest earnings. For Fixed deposit, you can withdraw the interest only either after 3 months, 6 months or just collect the lump sum annually.

As human beings, we often have lust for money. We seek it. We yearn for it. But then what is worse than lying to yourself that you are doing nothing wrong yet you know it is?
So here is a Muslim who has always been depositing in his fixed account which he receives interest after some months. The argument someone may bring is that, the money he deposited was used to do some kind of business which brought in profit which in turn he is given too. But then comes these three basic rules of fiqh which we need to understand:

Fiqh rules on prohibition of riba:
To emphasize interest or riba prohibition, reference should be made to three Fiqh rules:
a) A benefit gained from a loan is riba. A rule which is based on the ethics of Qard Al-Hassan (Benevolent or good loan) in Quran and on Hadith of the Prophet (p.b.u.h.) “the only reward for a loan is the thanks giving and the repayment”.
b) Which means that the capital owner has to choose either a “return” on his capital by sharing with its user in profit, or a “guarantee” to repay his capital intact. A “return” and “guarantee” on capital can not be combined together in one deal.
c) Which means that the capital owner will be entitled to “Profit” only if he is ready to accept “loss” if this happened. These rules are the basis of all profit and loss sharing financing methods in Islam, and they leave no doubt that interest paid to bank depositors above their money, or interest paid by borrowers from banks for the use of banks’ money is riba.
In this case, this Muslim is only getting ‘profit’ which is in fact riba. How? Because if the bank got a loss they don’t also share the loss with the investor.

Why is Riba prohibited?
1. Usurers are generally miser, selfish and hard-hearted Shylocks, devoid of milk of human kindness, who exploit the misery of the poor and charge their pound of flesh without feeling any moral compunction for the sufferings of the borrowers.
2. Interest breeds idleness and promotes unearned income. Instead of undertaking business ventures and using their business acumen, skill, knowledge and entrepreneurship, people having money start lending it on interest and thus living like parasites.
3. Interest causes many economic evils as well. It leads to hoarding of money adversely effecting its circulation among larger sections of society. It also causes establishment of monopolies, cartels and concentration of wealth in few hands. Thus distribution of wealth in the community becomes uneven and gulf between the rich and the poor widens.
4. Interest charged on international loans has aggravated debt-servicing problem of the debtor countries. It has not only impeded the economic development of the poor nations, but has also resulted into transfer of resources from the poor to the rich nations.
5. Capital investment is withheld from those enterprises which cannot yield profit equal to the prevailing rate of interest, even though such projects may be very vital for the country and nation. The flow of all financial resources in the country turns in the direction of those enterprises which carry the prospect of a profit margin equal to or more than the current rate of interest, even though such enterprises may have little or no social value.
With the revolutions and adverse changes in our world, we as Muslims need to be very keen, aware and careful on how we invest, where we invest, where we borrow and how is our money cycle. When you are told this is just profit make sure you investigate further, what kind of ‘profit’ they are talking about. Let us all be steadfast and exemplary in following our deen.

May Allah guide us. Ameen.

REFERENCES:
1. http://www.islamic-banking.com/iarticles_8.aspx
2. http://www.soundvision.com/article/5-ways-to-deal-with-the-dilemma-of-riba
3. http://www.aims.education/study-online/riba-in-islamic-banking-and-finance/

Picha: http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/a-father-and-sons-hands-min-suh.jpg
 
Mwandishi: Sultan Karama Maji Male (kero)
 
 
Bismillahi jaliya, muumba wa binadamu,
Kwako wewe nalekeya, naanza kutakalamu,
mwanangu namuusiya, ya dini kuyafahamu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
Si shiriki ya buneyya, nafusi kujidhumu,
Hana kuffu na sawiya, ni yeye pweke karimu,
Muumba wa samawiya, bila umudi kukimu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
Wazazi kuwatendeya, hisani yenye kudumu,
Kwa kina kuzingatiya, tumboni kwa wako ummu,
Kwa wahani aliliya, kubeba lako jukumu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
Kwa juhudi zisikiya, zao wazazi hukumu,
Illa zikikosa ndiya, na kukhalifu ilimu,
Ruhusa nakupatiya, kufwata hakulazimu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
Jema ukijifanyiya, la khardali fahamu,
na ovu kulipapiya, la haba au timamu,
Mola atakuleteya, siku hiyo ya qiyamu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
Yalo mema hadithiya, na sala zako zikimu,
Misiba kuvumuliya, maovu kuyashutumu,
Mambo yote azimiya, muelekee rahimu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
Jauri kujisikiya, usifanye kwa kaumu,
Na mwendo ukitembeya, maringo yasitakimu,
Mola anawachukiya, fakhuri wenye hujumu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.
 
 
La mwisho nakuambiya, sauti yako khadhimu,
Ni ya nikari twabiya, himari yake isimu,
Hifadhi nalo kwambiya, usije kunilaumu,
Nakuidhi ya buneyya, wasia ulo muhimu.

I still remember when I was a kid, when Palestine was really on fire. But well, when was it ever not on fire? It was during those times that the news were just about Palestine; sickening images and depressing videos. There was a world outcry. The Arab artists from different countries came together and made a video clip for them. It was around the same time when the 12 year old Muhammad Al Durrah and his dad were shot dead as shown in a very depressing video clip. It was 2000 and I was just six years old. There was the world, standing up for humanity like we should while I stood and watched. I was too young to comprehend what was happening but I just didn’t like what I saw. It broke my heart…and it made me cry a lot.

My mum once came and found me hiding at the window, behind the curtains crying. Oh I had cried a lot. I had cried like I was right there at the middle of it. I had cried like the cry baby I am…To cheer me up, my mother asked my cousin to take me for a walk. She took me to the bridge side to watch the ocean and bought me some crisps on the way. At that time, it was easy enough to forget what I had just seen and live up the sea moment. I was going to do something about it, that was my plan. I was going to grow up and make a difference. I was somehow going to make all the noise stop and bring the world to silence. I was hoping i’d be the female version of superman. But then I grew up, and reality hit me hard. There was almost nothing I was ever going to do. Not to the war torn countries, not to the fighting friends not even to my own helplessness. Back and again, i’d lock myself in the washroom and cry because two people were fighting, because someone became angry, because someone didn’t eat and my mother would be there again and again with the same words, ‘This is life…These things happen.’ So I started writing and for as long as I remember, I wrote like a possessed woman. I never had short paragraphs or small words to say. It was always going to be long and very long endless paragraphs of pain and sorrow; too much pain too much sorrow. By the time I got to high school, I knew. I knew I wasn’t going to change. I knew I couldn’t stop to feel.

I hated myself for feeling way too much because it made me seem like damaged goods, a worn out material, a shattered mirror. Simply because there is no in between for me and for us. There is nothing like moderation. It was always going to be extreme love or extreme hate. Extreme kindness or extreme evil. But it also made me appreciate a lot of things beyond. It became my super power, just like writing did. I tried to fit in only to realize it was never going to happen. It was never going to be easy for people to understand. They see you laughing like a maniac for one moment and you’d be crying like a widow the next. How you’d laugh so hard at the most stupid of things and cry so much for something so petty. No, they would never get you. And so it would always end up with, ‘she is so moody’. I curled up back into my cocoon because that is the only place you wouldn’t be misunderstood or misinterpreted. That is the only way to survive.

When war broke in Yemen and my sisters were trapped inside, I slid away. I slid away from them and from everyone. My mother would lecture me for not keeping in touch, for not being there for my sisters when they needed me. But then how do you respond when someone talks of the bombs they are hearing right as you speak? What do you tell them when you get 3 a.m. texts of them asking for prayers? I ran. I always ran away from the reality because helplessness is way too much to handle. I ran away every time I came face to face with my emotions. I ran because facing my fears would mean dealing with my inability to do absolutely ANYTHING. I ran when people attacked me, when I was being stepped on, I changed routes to not meet the beggars, I shut away when people fought. I withdrew, stayed back, retrieved myself from my soul, escaped…and thus, I became an escapist. For the longest time I asked God, ‘why was I born? What am I doing on this earth?’ Simply because being lost and helpless is just too much.

But then I found out that being overly-sensitive would make sense sometimes. When you meet people like yourself and there comes that sigh of relief, ‘I am not the only one.’ You meet understanding people who won’t call you moody because they just know how extremely you feel. You meet people who will empower you to turn that sensitivity into something enormous and courageous and brave. Yes…you meet the right people.

Every time I meet fellow cry-babies who are screaming inside because ‘no one understands me’, I remember that I am blessed with the ability to write. That it doesn’t really matter how weak people perceive you, or how they judge what you write, or how they think of you. What only matters is that you are doing what you have to, to survive.

So here I am. Feelings for sale. Anyone? Feelings, anyone??

Photo Courtesy: http://www.hivisasa.com/

Apart from the Uhuru-Joho and #UhuruChallenge fuss, people like me consider the foot bridge to be a great blessing. And when I say people like me I mean the paranoid, the hysterical, the psychotic freaks, the ones suffering from agyrophobia (fear of streets or crossing the street); yep, the people who see a car rushing right into them, crashing all their bones when crossing a busy road.

So years back when I started uni, I was quite overwhelmed with the highway. I would always stand for moments and moments again before actually crossing the road. I would stand close by to the next person beside me and follow them right when they cross. If I am to die I wouldn’t die alone right? I mean, who wants to die alone? 😀 But then we do die alone so while standing next to the person, I would go their left side or right side according to which side the cars are appearing from. If the cars are coming from the right side, I would go to the left side. If we are to be knocked down, the person is to die first. It sounds so selfish nah? So I decided I should stop being selfish and take care of my paranoid self. I decided to use the underground pathway-under the bridge 😀

Now there is something about the Buxton underground bridge. It is dark and scary. It is old and smelly. And most of all, it is not the place for me to walk into. Once I was down the stairs, I would hold my bag firmly.
Phone stashed away-check
Money hidden in a paperbag, inside a zipped smaller bag, inside a smaller smaller bag-check.
Karate move-Urgh, I should have watched the karate kid more.
Walking steps-Fast, FASTER THAN FASTEST.
But then remains one problem, what if this bridge falls on my head?!

This is precisely what happens when you watch too much of final destination 🙁

Oh my God, I should have written a will. My diary should be taken by Husna, my best friend after ‘the tragic incident of underground bridge collapsing’. But who will tell my mum that I love her more than I love my phone and laptop? 🙁
Which is worse though? Bridge Collapsing or someone attacking you in this dark hole? Rape, murder or kidnap?
Oh my God, I don’t even have a daughter to share this tiny sweet paranoic love portions with ;( No no, enough is enough. Where is the highway route again? So I decided to go back to innocently stalking people crossing the road.

God heard my cry and sent me a blessing 😀 I had some lovely classmates who would always accompany me to the stage. Yeah, sometimes I would be grasping one of their hands because a car from the farthest end is approaching. They would wait until the childish me was inside a matatu before they left their ways. You know, just to ensure I don’t get kidnapped or robbed or have my intestines scattered on the highway floor after a tragic accident. So on the days one of them or more wouldn’t come to class, I would have a mini-attack.
“Where are youuu? Why haven’t you come to class?!” *weeping emoji*
“Ah siji leo, mwalimu aboesha (I am not coming today, the teacher is boring)
*Weeping emoji, weeeeeeping emoji* “I am going home alone today” *weeping emoji again*
“You will be okay” *laughing emoji*
*weeping emoji is even tired of crying*

Then comes a bully or more bullies, “You going home alone today 😀 ” But then some bullies are friendly bullies, so they’d escort me and wait until I am gone. No wonder one of my friends told me I was always walking around with bodyguards 😀

Right now when I think of those moments and now with the foot bridge up I’m like, “If this highway was to be speak, it would be proud of how terrified I was of it.” Not to mention that one night I almost got knocked down for real and in my pursuit to evade the car, one of my legs ended up in one of those uncovered holes. Don’t even ask me how I got home that day 😀

May the credit for whoever built the bridge reach them because one of my 2017 goals (ameen) is to walk on that bridge, take a perfect selfie and caption it like, “Well well well, guess who survived the highway 😀 Oh! and the underground too!” 😀 😉

Photo Courtesy: http://cdn.inquisitr.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/Poltergeist-Exorcism.jpg

Warning: This article is not for the faint hearts.

When I was in Uni, one of my friends who had come to Mombasa for the first time to study, confessed to me about something. He told me of how he was warned of the Mombasa ladies. That sometimes you may be lured by a very beautiful lady only to find out she is a jinn (genie) lol. Well, I couldn’t agree to the statement but neither could I deny it. I very well knew how the upcountry folks tend to be scared whenever they visit Mombasa for the first time. The stories spread and so does the stereotype.

See Mombasa is by the sea which makes it natural that jinns will be more attracted to this part of the town. They love oceans and seas and that is basically their home. Nonetheless, culture and traditions of the ancestors of this area was such that, while some wanted to be as far away from the whole jinn issue, some went to the far extents of hunting them down and using them for witchcraft and personal agendas. Some were just victims while some sought them. And one other fact about Jinns is that they can be inherited in the family which led to generations after generations being innocently possessed.

Now for the scared-chicken me, fate has made it for me such that I have witnessed exorcism more than 5 times. The first time was when I was around 11 to 12 years old in primary school when one of the Muslim girls suddenly got possessed. It was an exam day so you can imagine half the excitement of postponement of my exam at the same time, fear and sympathy for the girl. The school I was in was a Christian school so the Christian teachers together with the director took their bibles and off they started the prayers. The doors to the room were closed and so were the windows so we couldn’t see anything inside. For almost one hour, we could their loud prayers, some commotion inside, more volume and more volume again until that door finally opened. Before I could understand what exactly was happening, my IRE teacher summoned the few Muslims in the school asking for those who could recite qur’an. Apparently, everyone was looking at me; the 12 year old me to go do exorcism to a fellow kid. Right now, thinking about it, I realize how much danger our teacher put us into. Nonetheless, we still went. The girl’s brother, my teacher and I. Upon entering, the Christian teachers left with the look like, “she is all yours.”

The girl didn’t have her head scarf on. Her long hair was so messed up. She was pacing around the room like it was her ego that had taken over; walking arrogantly across like a boss. So I started reciting surat Yasin. I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know what surah was to be read but I still went on with the surah with her brother and my teacher following along. The girl was laughing at us, mocking us, insulting us; we were being useless. She wasn’t feeling anything. And for once I felt how really small I was. By the time I was done with Yasin and there was no improvement, I remembered surat Jinn and this is when things started getting wild. She was yelling, screaming in pain. I was shaking now, my hands too cold. There was nothing heroic about this; just shudders of fear. After some verses, she was holding my knees. Don’t even ask me how she got there but she was; holding my knees begging me to read louder because, “He is there. I can see him” pointing somewhere above our heads. It was terrifying and my knees wobbled. I almost thought i’d either pee on myself or faint in the process. She then quieted down. My teacher rushed to give her a glass of water and check if she recognizes herself and the people around. Somehow, with time, I was able to get over it but that was never the end of the exorcism sessions I had to attend.

In uni, one of my mates had the same issue and time to time we would have to do the exorcism on her despite knowing that it should be done by experts only. But then within the past few days, I came across far worse case scenarios I had never seen.

In Islam, (for those who don’t know about this) we have our traditional medicine and treatments called ruqya, and despite this being the original and the best medical way to deal with ailments especially the complicated unexplainable ones, we always tend to keep this to be the last option. Ruqya is commonly known for treatment of witchcraft, exorcism, hasad and 3ayn (disastrous envy) but also for normal ailments that could do just good with some herbals and holy treatment.This is the place you go when no scan is telling what is wrong with you. When you see the doctor and he has to call a mini-meeting to discuss what could be wrong with you and they just end up giving you speculations. This is the place you go when doctors and people ask you, “maybe it’s all in your head? Maybe you are just imagining being sick.” This is the place you go when you have lost hope and finally realize only religious treatment will help you.

My sister and I entered the room which was somewhat full with other Muslim ladies. We went to the front rows, sat quietly waiting just like the rest. When the sheikh finally started reciting, slowly I could hear voices behind me and beside me. Someone was crying, almost wimping, another was laughing in a mock. The one in front of me started stretching her hands, moving her head vigorously from left to right, beside us was another who was now groaning like a lion. Right behind me, the young lady was twisting and turning in pain. And I was there, right at the middle of it all, all seeming like a zombie apocalypse horror movie and everyone was getting infected and I was definitely the next. The screams were getting into my head, the cries, the shouts and my hands were already getting cold. Half the time I was holding my sister’s hand and the other half I was hugging myself, head bowed down. I didn’t want to look but hearing the voices only is way worse. So I get glimpsing around me and it was like someone was trying to drown me. My head being shoved in cold water, pulled out, before being shoved right back. There is a lot of sympathy, empathy, confusion and chaos. I almost walked out right at the middle of it because there you are and you see people having literal fights with the unseen. Someone is twisting like she has no bones, another is groaning like she is about to puke, another is shouting, ‘sitokii!!’ (leave me alone) or ‘uskut’ (Keep quiet!), another is half-crying half-laughing, another is holding her head while crying out in pain, another is screaming like a banshee while another is moving about intensely like she is dancing some zumba.

For the first time I was so scared of my own self, too tensed up because you don’t even have an idea what is wrong with you or even what is your situation exactly. I kept checking on my sister and whenever she’d just move a bit i’d get worried until after confirmation that she is okay. I was trying too to not bulge even an inch because my own restlessness was making me worry. So I wanted to convince myself that nothing is wrong and that nothing is wrong with my sister. But then keeping still is almost impossible too. When the one in front started reacting we had to move back a little bit, when the one behind was writhing in pain on the floor, we had to move forward again. I was terrified, shocked and perhaps it was too much for me to see several people ache loudly like that all at once. By the second day end of it all, a lady was still crying while talking in arabic, “Khaliny. Khaliny anta lasta 3unuky” (Leave me! Leave me you are not my neck) while struggling with her neck like she was being strangled. And that’s when I had had enough. I broke down.

I cried at the difficulty of the situation. At how hard it can be for someone to be their own enemy. At how your ailment is something inside you and you can barely do anything about it. I cried at how we really take it lightly how much these people suffer. But then this is way worse than malaria or even diabetics. This is someone inside you who was sent on a mission to destroy you. Someone who is trying to steal your identity, your happiness, your comfort and worst of all, you are the only one who can see it. Someone who can totally take control of your soul, make you do things or harm yourself and others without even knowing it. This is perhaps one of the biggest tests anyone can have. And even while watching the emotional mess, I wanted to disappear right into the wall beside me. It’s not a sight for someone with empathy issues or even crying-an-entire-bucket issues. I believe that the victims are very strong people and I just hope Allah makes it easy for them and pays them abundantly for their patience.

Perhaps this is why we keep being told that whenever we feel we are in difficult situations, we should look at those in worse scenarios than us and thank God anyway. Nonetheless, the religion has always been complete. We have to take these things seriously and recite the duas for the morning and evening sessions. We have to protect ourselves and our children. We have to teach them the duas before going into the washrooms and after, before eating and after, before leaving home and after…We have to ask for Allah’s protection when going to the beaches and new places. We have to read and listen to qur’an more often but more importantly, we have to listen to the ruqya verses more often. Trust me, it is worth it. The way people talk of possessed victims like it is an ordinary and ‘normal’ thing, is quite underrated. They suffer and they need our support, love and care. They need you now more than ever. They need your sincere prayers.

Besides all these dark spirits (which is mostly not everyone’s fault), Mombasa is a beautiful place of it’s own kind. Stereotyping generalizes it way more than it really is. The victims are sick and trust me, they do not like it just like you. Do not be afraid of them or stigmatize them. God is surely for us all.

To end this, below is a ruqya video that is good for you. Make time to listen to the video at least once everyday and let your family listen too. You can always download more videos and audios from the internet. https://youtu.be/oEgZT9cJ4lY (This is different from the one below)

May Allah have mercy on us, protect us and our families from all evil. Ameen.

Photo Courtesy: I have no idea who has the brains to do this ?

After the surprise release of results and the shock that followed, Matiang’i still remains to be the man of the hour; the man of 2016. Whether we like him or not, we can’t deny that he is irresistible! You just can’t help but adore the man. From when he entered office, we have seen MAJOR changes never seen in Kenyan history.

He declared it forbidden for schools to hold any events during the third term, he denied candidates to enter the exam room with any watches, pencil pouch or even a mathematical set. All stationary was to be in transparent paper bag. He ensured that during the examinations no students were around and teachers except the head and the deputy. He literally did the rounds himself to some schools during the examinations to ensure no irregularities. He had both the KCPE and KCSE results released before the completion of a month after the seating. And why I say this man will remain of the hour is his enigmatic style of doing things. On 29th we suddenly had breaking news just out of the blue for the release of KCSE results. For the past few days before that, I could hear candidates create panic attacks amongst themselves with the false alarm always, “I hear the results will be released today!” As much as the exams were practically ‘made familiar’ with almost all questions coming from the ‘made familar series books’, candidates were barely eating, barely sleeping, moving into their grandma’s homes so as not to be asked their index numbers 😀 He kept Kenyans on suspense and hands on their hearts always. It’s like he wants to play this hide and seek game yet wanting to prove that THIS IS HIS GAME!

For the first time in history we are having at least more realistic results than ever. They look clean and it really clarifies where we are as a country. Matiang’i has insisted that he won’t allow any monkey business in his reign and that cheating is out of his dictionary. A new system has also come up whereby students won’t be using index numbers anymore but instead be using specific student identifiers throughout a student’s school life. Again Matiang’i wants to bring in common exams in universities just like the KNEC and KASNEB exams which may greatly affect the number of graduates in universities. While this will be a pain in the necks of some, students confusedly still like Matiang’i. Like he is doing something that may affect them greatly especially considering how many depend on leakage, students still can’t help but adore the man. He is doing a great job and many are ready to vote for him if he vied for presidency. Or at least he should be the chairman of IEBC right? We surely need such a clean-up in our politics too!

You know, when I remember during our days after KCPE we would have to wait until February to start school and after KCSE, have to wait for at least four to six or more months before getting their university calling letters. And if you ask the older school generations, they had to stay at home for almost two years waiting for the calling letters like they are being summoned to heaven. These people would do all kind of small jobs; from secretarial to farming to salon to doing house chores to cooking, counting the days until they would get too tired and just lie down on their beds, heads staring at the ceiling like they are tempted to commit suicide before joining university. Then the most painful part after those dreadful two years you get called for a course that you never even knew existed, in a down-town small college where your ancestors belonged. In a college with just two lecturers! Well, Matiang’i has saved some souls hasn’t he? 😀

Better still is that students finally got a longer holiday. The primary students have always been busy; always at school, always doing homework, always at tuition, always carrying heavy bags until their shoulders drop, always tired! They really deserved a longer break so that they could actually relax and have a normal childhood like it should be. So this time round both primary and secondary schools closed before November, giving them two good and healthy months to take a break. Yey Matiang’i!

Nonetheless, Matiang’i didn’t just break the headlines with 141 A’s, he also broke our ribs or rather, cracked them. You know Kenyans are never late creating memes and jokes when something happens and right now, Matiang’i it is. Whilst the old students thank God that they completed before Matiangi’s reign, everyone is still excited and amused by his style and swagger should we say? 😀 Since the day before yesterday my whatsapp has been knocked off with Matiangi jokes all thanks to the Khalifa alumni group lol and of course all over social media; still made my week though 😀

1. Yaani Matiang’i alikua holiday huko Coast kurelax beach akaona watoi wanaswim na ju hajui kuswim akaamua atoe results.

2. Next year results KCSE results zinakuja kama message ya sportpesa…CONGRATULATIONS you scored a D in KCSE results ID 1205.

3. Ati Matiang’i akiwa minister for health, madem watakuwa wanakaa na ball 4 months =, hakuna kuteseka na mizigo.

4. KCSE 2017: HISTORY PAPER 1A: Describe the Matiangi massacre and it’s significance in shaping Kenya’s education sector (20 marks)

5. Saa hii mtu mjanja anafaa afungue kinyozi ju watu wenye wanarepeat high school ni wengi na walikuwa washaweka rasta.

6.This ‘failing of the boy child’ is a strategy by the government to decongest JKUAT.

7. Kama hujaendea cert yako high school endea sai before Matiangi aifanyie corrections.

8. But those of us who finished our KCSE before Matiangi’s reign, acheni Mungu aitwe Mungu. Juu wengi wangepata certificate of participation.

9. Matiangi be like cut it cut it cut it that mark is way too high you need to cuuut it.

10.Interview job itakuwa swali moja tu ‘before or after Matiang’i?’

11. I never dreamt of a day when KCSE results would be breaking news. Congratulations Matiang’i, results are now at par with terrorist attacks.

12. Urban Dictionary:
Word: Matiangi_surprise
Example in a sentence: Hey Duncan you matiangied me.
Synonym: surprise, shock, eye opener, rude awakening.

13. Ati hao 141 wamepata A ata wanaweza form whatsapp group na wajiite ‘the only doctors, wengine ni witch doctors’

14.I hereby take this opportunity to thank my parents, for timing 😀 I did my KCSE before Matiangi 😀

Let’s all have a moment of LOL LOL LOL for the one and only Matiang’i. He has done a great job nay? Well, uni students brace yourselves, you are yet to be roasted ??

To all those who have received their results, congratulations. As the saying goes, you reap what you sow. Nonetheless one thing I realized is that, High school defines your personality yet it is university that defines your real IQ because this is where you do what you choose to do and you learn the way you want to. So whatever the case, prove your abilities in the next level. All the best ahead! 🙂

Photo Courtesy: http://media.istockphoto.com/

2016 has been like any other year; with it’s own ups and downs, new innovations, great changes, tragedies, successes, new habits both good and bad ones. As much as we are encouraged to embrace change and accept it, there are some things that we shouldn’t be okay with, that we should STOP doing as fast as the four letters can be pronounced and that each one of us should really reconsider before doing them again. Let us make 2017 a better year.

1. Let the journalists do their work: This is one of the things that really REALLY bothers and pisses me off honestly and it makes me sad too. We are in this era whereby everyone is a citizen journalist, everyone is a photographer. Of course there is a good side and great advantages of this but we are sooo misusing the privilege. Having people take photos and videos of tragic events, heart-breaking scenarios is soo not okay. It is NOT okay to take photos of someone’s bloody body at the accident scene, of someone’s burial, of someone who just committed suicide, of a total stranger having his private time somewhere and you decide the world should laugh with you on how they had worn their dress the wrong way or make-up done so badly or whatever embarrassing moment they are facing. Or even ‘better’, making a meme out of it. For heavens sake, please just don’t. We have journalists for a reason. And we go through four years of learning for a reason. We are taught ethics which apparently many don’t have.

Sometimes, I come across very devastating situations in which I know I could create a master piece story from yet I, as a journalist refrain from taking the pic or the video because I always remind myself that I am a human being before a journalist. And this is something we should all consider before we are so quick to pull out our phones. Ask yourself this question, if I were in that same situation, would I want someone to expose me to the world like that?! Would I want that to be done if it was my mother in the bad make up? Or if it was my dad lying on the ground dead? Would I want the world my dead body’s picture circulating before even my own family is notified of my death? For those who have ever read the biography of the Bang bang club of South Africa, or watched the movie, they can tell you how photo journalists at that time suffered from guilt and depression due to the heart-breaking scenes they had to capture. One committed suicide yet his photo of a vulture waiting for a hungry child to die brought him great fame. It was all guilt…but do we have any left? He was a journalist, that was his job, yet he couldn’t stand it. What of us of the all day, all night selfie era??

Don’t say I can’t be in that situation. I can’t commit suicide. I can’t do bad make-up. I can’t I can’t…but you may do something way worse and trust me, you wouldn’t even want to admit it to your own self let alone the whole world knowing about it. We need to start acting like human beings with brains and with a heart. Act HUMAN!

2. Stop putting yourself down: Stop waiting for a miracle to happen to bring you out of your misery. You need to believe in yourself, believe that you have a purpose in this life. That you do make a difference. It doesn’t have to be world wide difference. You don’t have to be mother Theresa or Nelson Mandela for you to know that you are making a difference. You are. Because you make someone in your life happy. Because you help your friends in their difficult times. Because you love your family and they love you back. You are making a difference just by your existence. So don’t allow rain drops look like a storm. Don’t create problems that don’t exist. Don’t overthink. Just believe. Have faith. Love and love again. Be kind and never let yourself down. Remember, you are amazing! 🙂

3. Staying low key is important. It is as important as you taking your medicine on time. I personally spend a lot of time on social media because that is where all my work is but if there is anything that I learnt is; learn to separate your personal life from social media. Stop worshiping the internet. Stop giving out too many details about your life. It is okay to let your friends know when you are happy and when you are sad or when you are having a nice time somewhere. Just don’t over-do it. There are many vultures out there waiting for you to trip or maybe even your downfall. You upload your every single movement; from hotel to hotel. From outing to outing. From boyfriend to boyfriend. From meal to meal. Do you believe that people actually are happy for you just because they clicked ‘like’? or because the comments got to 100 plus? Think about it. How many are actually your friends; REAL friends? Few I am sure. What then becomes of the rest who have so much information about you to write your biography yet you are actually strangers? Doesn’t it ever scare you that you have nothing left in your life that is private and unknown to the world? Be a little bit mysterious. It has it’s own beauty.

4. Regard depression seriously. It’s high time we stopped mocking people undergoing depression. They are not attention seekers. They are not drama queens and kings. They are not weak. They are just too overwhelmed with their lives. They just need your help, your advice, your support. We need to stop telling on them like they are being delicate babies. That they are not strong enough. We need to stop pushing them away because depression is an illness of the heart just as cancer is to the body. It is real. It is deadly. It is suicidal. We shouldn’t wait until someone has harmed themselves is when we say, ‘He told me how he had suicide thoughts many times. I thought he was joking…’ Sweet heart there is no jokes on depression issues. When your friend/family/close person comes to you then give them your time, your love, your prayers and assist them in discovering God and having faith in Him and His plans.

5. New beginnings: I believe in new beginnings. I believe in making changes, meeting new people and making new discoveries. I believe in better days and happy moments. But I also believe that none of these are tied to a new year. Every new year we want to make resolutions, we want a fresh start, we want the new beginnings. Yet 1st of January is not any different with 31st December or 20th August or 23rd of March. It is a day like any other. It doesn’t come with a miracle from Santa nor does it hide any surprises. It is all but our own perception of it. The resolutions we make each year, we rarely ever fulfill them. We just make them because everyone is making their resolutions. But it should never be so. Yes I believe in making goals and what better time to make them than on a new year? Yes that is fine. I also do have my resolutions and goals each year. But that doesn’t mean you have to wait until next new year for you to make the necessary changes in your life? How are you even sure you will live to the next 1st January?

Please stop complaining that it has been a terrible year, every single year! We hear the same words on and on and on, year after year. So when are you ever going to appreciate the good things that happened in the 12 months phase? Stop being a negative person. Appreciate good things when they come and be patient during tough times. And remember, change can be done any time any day even if it at midnight of a very stormy night. It’s all in your brain. You can start your new beginning right now, right this second. Who is going to stop you? Every day is a beautiful day; beautiful enough to be a fresh start 😉

It has been a year of it’s own. Let’s hope and pray that 2017 will be a more peaceful year for the whole world, a better year for us all, a year with more love and happiness than any other. May we all live to have our new beginnings and achieve our goals. Ameen 🙂

By: Nilu Bachani

There’s the image of fire reflecting through my eyes
Flames burning little children as they cry.
With that, innocence is turning to bones and ash
Syria is falling, on its way to crash
Oppressors think they’re winning
But Allah, we all know He is watching
The world has turned to a blind eye
Ignorant and nonchalant, with no reply
People are always fighting for what’s happening on the other side
Yet, here everyone has closed their ears, their mouths, their eyes
to something I call a genocide
Each tear, each scar, every drop of blood of an innocent soul is nullified
This is inhumane and atrocious
Yet with blood all over them
every whisper consists of His name
Al-aziz, The Victorious
They lost hope in the world, but they know who to fear
Despite knowing that death might be near
Fathers mothers brothers sisters constantly weeping with the words inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi rajiuun.
More bodies are piling up, praying that all this will go away soon
Aleppo, oh Aleppo, how can I be silent Aleppo
Ya Allah bring the Ummah together, to fight for their tomorrow…
understanding why the Prophet cried for us so much
women pick death rather than being raped, over my stomach my hands clutch.
Yet here I am envisioning it
while they’re actually going through it
thinking how unbearable the screeching of their screams must be
Feeling helpless, as I prostrate towards Allah accepting reality
That this is cruelty
and I question have we forgotten humanity?
But with guilt inside me I pray for forgiveness that all the damage that’s done is because I was silent all along
I, another human watching more blood being shed, seeing that it’s all wrong.
Tick Tock, look at all the time that’s been gone.
Tick Tock, now all their flesh is bone….

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Nilu recited her poem after the prayers for Aleppo on Thursday (and it honestly gave me a chill). She was also one of the organizers of the event.

Alhamdulilah the turn out was not bad. Around 100 people (both men and woman) attended while the organizers reported to have collected around 130, 000 Kshs which they are still collecting until Monday then send the money in shaa Allah. May Allah bless the organizers and all those who participated in one way or another, the ones who attended from far and near, and even those who wished to be present but couldn’t; may God grant you well in dunya and akhera. I hope we can do better than this next time because I believe we CAN DO better. Alhamdulilah ala kul hal. Let us keep praying for Syria, for Yemen, Palestine, Burma…all the countries suffering. May Allah grant them victory. Ameen ya Rab!

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