Creative Non-Fiction


You may read the third part of this article here

My very adorable boys have grown. It’s amazing watching them bloom. Don’t get me wrong, they still drive us crazy but whenever they are away, their absence is deeply felt.

My Hassun (my happy person 3) is close to four years, but now we call him Chenchen. He is the most charming of all. But he’s also got that kind of cat-ish pride, you know what I mean right? Sometimes he gives hugs and kisses and smiles abundantly, and sometimes you call him and he ignores you completely. If you keep calling his name he point blank shouts NO from wherever he is. He is only gonna love you when he feels like it. He is still my favourite though. It is an undeniable fact.

There was a time months back I went away from home for some days and every evening, I would call and the first person I would ask for is him. My aunt whom I was staying with once asked me, ‘You’re very attached to Chenchen yeah?’ I laughed and asked why. She said she rarely hears me ask about the others 😀

Sometimes I feel bad and say to myself that I don’t want the others to feel discriminated. But what is love? I cannot hide it. I get to the door of home and he is the first name I call out. I bring them sweets, and Chenchen is the first I give it to. Random times I would remember him and miss him and just say his name. SMH, I know, it’s an obsession at this point.

I noticed that whenever I left him home, he would avoid eye contact once I’m back. He would refuse to acknowledge my existence entirely. And any attempt to hug him or kiss him will be followed by a big NO. But then slooowwwllly, and with much persuasion, he starts smiling shyly then disappears, then at another moment he lets me carry him but then throw a tantrum to be left alone, then at another moment he comes to lay on my lap or if he cries, he comes to hug me. It’s like the perfect illustration of cognitive dissonance (a mental conflict that occurs when your beliefs don’t line up with your actions). It seems like he feels hurt and angry and betrayed for leaving without him, but then he is kinda happy to see you but doesn’t exactly want it to be noticed.

He is the absolute cutest. Well apart from the fact that he STILL refuses to call me by my name and calls me by my younger sister’s name instead. I think this move is very intentional; like he’s teasing me. You can’t tell me he knows how to say EXCAVATOR and MONSTER TRUCK and knows how to call our neighbour ABDULMALIK, but can’t say my NICKNAME *rolling eyes*. Sometimes, when he is repeatedly begging me for something, chorusing my sister’s name, he has a mouth slip and says Luby. It’s like once in a blue moon typa thing. When he says my name, even if I didn’t want to do whatever he was requesting for, my heart just melts and I do it anyway. I told my sister in shaa Allah I’ll take him with me once I have my own home but my mum stopped me in my tracks with ‘Tafuta wako!’ 😀

Chenchen’s personality is more visible now. He is very much a loner. He doesn’t mind playing alone for hours on end. You’d see him silently playing with his favourite car toys or chorusing the car noises as he hears them on TV, with intervals of high and low intonations. He is very energetic and loooveees exploring. If you take him to an open field, khalas, that’s heaven for him. He can run back and forth and back and forth like he is training for a marathon. If you leave him outside alone he will most definitely go further away. Sand and water are his favourite things to play with. He can stay the whole day playing in a pile of sand and a small cup, literally bathing himself in it. The same with water. He could cry if you remove him from the bathroom before he has enough play with the water.

Chenchen can get really silent sometimes, and sometimes he is jumping up and down and running wild. Also, if you’re wondering, yes, he still throws stuff outside the window :/

Anywayssss, Halimi (my happy person 2) is soooo compassionate and kind and sensitive and cheerful, and I really love that about him. He’s the kind to randomly give you a hug or tell you ‘I love you’ or kiss you. He’s just the sweetest and most loving kid, Allahumma Bareek! He’s the one who always wants to give his mother company while she works. When he comes back from school, he is always so excited to see any of us. He’d shout any of our names with so much joy, you’d think he hadn’t seen us the same morning. There was a time they all went to my brother’s house for a holiday. After some days, the rest of the family joined them there. When Halimi saw us approaching us, he ran towards us shouting, ‘UH! MY PEOPLE! MY PEOPLE ARE HERE!’ I could cry talking about how warm and beautiful his soul is. Whenever I see how he gets super enthusiastic about the smallest things, in my heart I pray that Allah protects his soul and that this world never takes away this gift from him.

Last Ramadhan we taught them the concept of dua and writing dua lists and so Halimi and Hassan (Happy person 1) started creating their own duas and sometimes writing letters to Allah which mostly consisted requests for toys and toys and more toys. Several months later, Halimi came to me one night, requesting for a paper and pen. He was visibly sleepy but he insisted he wanted to draw. So I gave him what he needed and to my pleasant surprise, he had drawn a toy phone and police car then wrote a letter to Allah requesting for the two. My heart melted. I did not expect that months later, he’d still remember that and even though he was pressed with sleep, he still wanted to communicate with Allah *happy teary eyes*. May Allah guide them and protect them and make them among His most beloved servants, ameen.

Halimi is also the reader and creative in the house, which of course makes me love him more. Whenever he comes across a book he’ll be curious and try reading it even when it is beyond his age. He also loves drawing and colouring and mashallah he is good at it too! He’s such a sensitive boy so you CANNOT make him cry. Because he doesn’t simply cry. HE WAILS! The entire neighbourhood will hear his screams and assume the worst.

The two older boys are at the curiosity phase where they ask very many simple yet difficult questions. Hassan especially is very inquisitive. Both he and Halimi would out of the blue ask, ‘When are we going to Allah? Where is Allah? Does Allah pray? Is Allah boy or girl? Where is Jannah? Can we go to Jannah then we come back?’ Just this month, as he (Hassan) was turning 8, he asked his grandmother, ‘How many years remaining then we go to Jannah?’ Hahaha. Another time he randomly said he doesn’t want to go to hellfire. Another time he said he doesn’t want to go to shaytan. There was a time he was so tired and sleepy but he hadn’t prayed ishaa yet. So he started getting teary saying he doesn’t want to go to hellfire because he has been taught after 7 years a child should pray all prayers miskeen. He takes his prayers very seriously and we love that for him 😀

They recently started being given chances at the masjid to do iqamah and they are always so excited about it, especially Halimi. They would race to the masjid and whoever gets there first does the iqamah, but Halimi would cry whenever defeated and Hassan, being the responsible, thoughtful elder brother, let’s him do it any way 😀

Hassan still loves maths and he is your typical first born. Sharp, caring, responsible and very thoughtful of his younger siblings. He’s also become a master in solving rubric cube after many many attempts. At the beginning, because he couldn’t solve it, he used to remove all the individual cubes then return them one by one in the order of the colours just so that he can proudly say he did it 😀 Thereafter, my sister started watching YouTube tutorials with him until he learnt how to do it better than my sister! He’s our little genius, Allahumma bareek.

But nooow, we have a new squad member who started living with us. My niece Mima is very pretty mashallah and very naughty. She is very sweet and loving and affectionate. You should hear her talk about her mummy and daddy, like the proudest child in the world. She is especially very very attached to her father. You should see her excitement when she sees him, and how much she cries when he leaves her behind, ‘DADDDYYYYY! I WANT MY DADDDYYY!’.

Mima loves freely and deeply and never shies off from expressing her emotions. When introducing herself she says ‘Mima pwinshesh’ while smiling cutely. Her smile can melt your heart but you cannot let that deceive you! 😀 Mima is like Masha from ‘Masha and the Bear’. Her teachers cannot tame her either and any attempt to do so brings out the sensitive, cry baby in her. Talk of ‘terrible twos’ extending to three, four years now 😀

Granted, she began school a few months before she officially turned four, but to date, both her school and madrasa teachers always have a lot to say about her 😀 We understand though; she’s young. As they say, ‘Akikua ataacha’ (or so we hope! 😀 )

Halimi is her best friend. Those two, are partners in crime. They’ll intentionally do what you specifically asked them not to, just so they can push your buttons while they have smug smiles on their faces. Kids really know how to get on your nerves and drive you crazy, but when they are absent, you still miss them somehow. Her and Chenchen on the other hand, are frenemies. One minute (most of the times) they are fighting over toys or food, the next minute Chenchen is shouting, ‘Let’s go Mima. Let’s play!’ or hanging on the grills of the window (even after you’ve told them 648765487 times not to do so!)

Regardless of all that, Mima loves to help around and to be involved. She’ll throw the pillows down with the boys but she doesn’t mind returning them at their rightful place. When the older boys are sent to the shop, she wants to join too. Plus she’s the only one among them who stays with their toys intact for more than two days (boys will always be boys!)

I’m writing this because I miss them all so much. They’ve all gone for holidays to their families and the house feels empty, and kinda boring (except for the part where we can sleep with no disturbances 😀 ). I’m already here nagging their mother to start preparing for January school opening like I am mother hen. But then it is no secret that I am THAT mother (in shaa Allah). The one to prepare breakfast items the night before so there is no morning rush 😀 Spoiler Alert: There’s ALWAYS morning chaos! SMH 😀

Anyways, may Allah protect my babies and make them kind, brilliant and pious Ya Rab. Please do pray for their guidance 🙂


P.S: Don’t forget to pray for Palestine, Sudan, Lebanon, Congo and all the countries undergoing oppression.

Thank you for reading! Kindly do subscribe below to keep up with my latest blogs 🙂

Devastating. Shocking. Agonizing.

We are witnessing a genocide live on our screens. An ethnic cleansing. Another nakba.

Shouldn’t the world pause?! Shouldn’t we all drop everything in our hands and DO something?! Shouldn’t we all be ENRAGED?! How are we able to enjoy life like a massacre isn’t taking place? How are some people okay with this?! Are people blind? Aren’t they seeing what we’re seeing?!

A brutal occupation. Living in an open prison. Bombing after bombing. Chemical weapons such as white phosphorus being artillery-fired. Flattening of entire neighbourhoods. Entire lineages are being wiped out. Severe starvation. Children writing their names on their palms so they can be identified if they die. Lifeless bodies lying across the streets. Rubble everywhere. Ice cream trucks being used to store dead bodies. Parents swapping children so that someone in their families survive. Women having their full hijab on all the time in case they get killed at any moment. An impossible evacuation of 1.2 million people. Constant terror. Constant death. Constant grief, that mind you, the Palestinians don’t even get to process because they need to educate and show proof of their suffering every.single.time. Yet some people still deny it!

How can we stay sane while feeling the most helpless ever?

This is how a society goes down the drain really quickly. First, we overlook evil. Then we permit evil. Then we legalize evil. Then we promote evil. Then we celebrate evil. Then we persecute those who still call it evil. on IG

Indeed Palestine will always be a sore wound for humanity until they acquire their freedom, rights and their land. And in that is a lot for us to ponder on.

1. The pen has been lifted and the ink has dried: Part of our faith as Muslims is the belief that everything is destined by Allah through His all-encompassing knowledge and wisdom. That includes all the good that happens to us but also, all the seemingly bad that happens to us. What is happening in Palestine right now is a huge test, not just for the people of Palestine, but for us too! How firm is our faith? How will we stand with our brothers and sisters in their struggle? How will we act as we watch all these devastating horrors in front of our eyes? WHAT WILL WE DO ABOUT IT?! So despite the pain and helplessness we immensely feel for the Palestinians or any other suffering nation, let us not forget that Allah is still and always in control. That HE knows of the oppression taking place. That He has a plan. That He knows what He is doing. That victory will indefinitely come for the Palestinians, and that we should trust HIM.

And We warned the Children of Israel in the Scripture, “You will certainly cause corruption in the land twice, and you will become extremely arrogant.

Suratul Israa, Verse 4

On the authority of Abu Abbas Abdullah bin Abbas (may Allah be pleased with him) who said: One day I was behind the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) [riding on the same mount] and he said, “O young man, I shall teach you some words [of advice]: Be mindful of Allah and Allah will protect you. Be mindful of Allah and you will find Him in front of you. If you ask, then ask Allah [alone]; and if you seek help, then seek help from Allah [alone]. And know that if the nation were to gather together to benefit you with anything, they would not benefit you except with what Allah had already prescribed for you. And if they were to gather together to harm you with anything, they would not harm you except with what Allah had already prescribed against you. The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried.”

In another narration, the hadith reads: “Be mindful of Allah, and you will find Him in front of you. Recognize and acknowledge Allah in times of ease and prosperity, and He will remember you in times of adversity. And know that what has passed you by [and you have failed to attain] was not going to befall you, and what has befallen you was not going to pass you by. AND KNOW THAT VICTORY COMES WITH PATIENCE, RELIEF WITH AFFLICTION, AND HARDSHIP WITH EASE.” (Hadith 19, 40 Hadith an-Nawawi)

So even as we shed tears and our hearts ache for our brothers and sisters (rightfully so), let us not forget that Allah, in His wisdom, allowed it to happen. The people who’ve been martyred were meant to be martyred. Those who are getting injured have been destined to get those injuries. Those whose houses were bombed, were meant to lose their homes. Those lineages that have been wiped out, that is what was destined for them. Qaddara Allahu wa ma sha’a fa’ala. Allah has decreed and whatever he wills, He does. And in Him we should always fully trust.

2. This dunya is nothing but a test.

أَحَسِبَ ٱلنَّاسُ أَن يُتۡرَكُوٓاْ أَن يَقُولُوٓاْ ءَامَنَّا وَهُمۡ لَا يُفۡتَنُونَ

وَلَقَدۡ فَتَنَّا ٱلَّذِينَ مِن قَبۡلِهِمۡۖ فَلَيَعۡلَمَنَّ ٱللَّهُ ٱلَّذِينَ صَدَقُواْ وَلَيَعۡلَمَنَّ ٱلۡكَٰذِبِينَ

أَمۡ حَسِبَ ٱلَّذِينَ يَعۡمَلُونَ ٱلسَّيِّـَٔاتِ أَن يَسۡبِقُونَاۚ سَآءَ مَا يَحۡكُمُونَ

“Do people think once they say, “We believe,” that they will be left without being put to the test?

We certainly tested those before them. And ˹in this way˺ Allah will clearly distinguish between those who are truthful and those who are liars.

Or do the evildoers ˹simply˺ think that they will escape Us? How wrong is their judgment!”

Surat Al Ankabut, Verse 2-4

Allah Subhanahu Wataala did warn us that we’ll be tested, our faith will be tested in all kinds of ways; earthquakes, bloodshed, hunger, floods, death and more. Each one of us is tested in a different way in this world, and this is how Allah separates those who are truthful in His way and those who are not. And on the day of judgment, each one of us will be rewarded according to how lived our lives on this earth. That includes the oppressors who will have to face Allah Subhanahu Wataala and taste the heavy consequences of their actions.

Do you think you will be admitted into Paradise without being tested like those before you? They were afflicted with suffering and adversity and were so ˹violently˺ shaken that ˹even˺ the Messenger and the believers with him cried out, “When will Allah’s help come?” Indeed, Allah’s help is ˹always˺ near.

Suratul Baqarah, Verse 214

The prophets were severely tested. The pious predecessors were severely tested. And Allah Subhanahu Wataala decreed this specific test for this specific group of people. We shouldn’t ask why or why them? Allah already promised us that He wouldn’t burden a soul more than they can bear. So for HIM to choose THEM for THIS TEST, it is because He knows how brave they are. How courageous they are. How unshakeable their faith is. How despite the terror, anger, angst, sadness, pain, hunger, they can still smile and say Alhamdulilah and make sijdatul shukr and make jokes and show gratitude and compassion everyday. Truthfully, they are the strongest warriors we’ve ever come across; all of them! From their men to their women to the children to their elderly! We probably would have died of fear and panic if we experienced what they go through in just one day.

Those who were warned, “Your enemies have mobilized their forces against you, so fear them,” the warning only made them grow stronger in faith and they replied, “Allah ˹alone˺ is sufficient ˹as an aid˺ for us and ˹He˺ is the best Protector.” So they returned with Allah’s favours and grace, suffering no harm. For they sought to please Allah. And surely Allah is ˹the˺ Lord of infinite bounty.

Surat Al Imran, Verse 173-174

3. These people are indeed very, very special. Here’s why:

It was narrated from Mus’ab bin Sa’d that his father, Sa’d bin Abu Waqqas, said: “I said: ‘O Messenger of Allah, which people are most severely tested?’ He said: ‘The Prophets, then the next best and the next best. A person is tested according to his religious commitment. If he is steadfast in his religious commitment, he will be tested more severely, and if he is frail in his religious commitment, his test will be according to his commitment. Trials will continue to afflict a person until they leave him walking on the earth with no sin on him.’”

I came across an image that said, ‘There is no substitute for Palestine except paradise’ and truly, that is what awaits them biidhnillah. The individuals being killed in Palestine are considered martyrs as proven in a hadith of the prophet peace be upon him, ‘Whoever is killed protecting his wealth, he is a martyr. Whoever is killed protecting his family, he is a martyr. Whoever is killed protecting his religion, he is a martyr. Whoever is killed protecting himself, he is a martyr.'” (Sunan an-Nasa’i 4095) And do you know what’s the reward for the martyrs? Allah Subhanahu Wataala says in Surat An Nisaa, verse 69 and 70: “And he who obeys Allah and the Messenger -they shall be with those whom Allah has favoured -the Prophets, those steadfast in truthfulness, the martyrs, and the righteous.” How excellent will they be for companions! That is a bounty from Allah, and Allah suffices to know the truth.” Subhanallah, indeed what awaits them is beyond our comprehension.

Never think of those martyred in the cause of Allah as dead. In fact, they are alive with their Lord, well provided for—rejoicing in Allah’s bounties and being delighted for those yet to join them. There will be no fear for them, nor will they grieve.

Surat Al Imran, Verse 169-170

4. Allah is Al-Baseer (The All-Seeing): The All-Noticing, The One who Sees all things that are seen by His Eternal Seeing without a pupil or any other instrument.

As-Samee(The All-Hearer): The One who Hears all things that are heard by His Eternal Hearing without an ear, instrument or organ.

Al-Muntaqim (The Retaliator): The One who victoriously prevails over His enemies and punishes them for their sins. Allah is most patient, but the time will come when justice must be given. 

Al-Muqsit (The Just One): The Equitable, The One who is Just in His judgment.

Do not think that Allah is unaware of what the wrongdoers do. He only delays them until a Day when ˹their˺ eyes will stare in horror—rushing forth, heads raised, never blinking, hearts void.

Surat Ibrahim, Verse 42-43

Abu Hurayrah said: The Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “There are three whose du’aa’ is not rejected: a just ruler, the fasting person when he breaks his fast and the prayer of the oppressed person. It rises above the clouds and the gates of heaven are opened for it, and the Lord, may He be glorified, says, ‘By My Glory I will answer you even if it is after a while.’” (Saheeh al-Tirmidhi, 2050.) 

Indeed Allah can hear the cries of the people of Palestine, He can see their pain and He definitely hears their duas. Allah will definitely come through for them, it is just a matter of time.

5. There is a post I wrote a few weeks back on my Instagram on patience that is also very, very relevant to this scenario and to our brothers and sisters in Palestine and other oppressed countries:

Whenever this dunya becomes heavy on the chest, I always ponder on this ayah:
 إِنَّمَا يُوَفَّى الصَّابِرُونَ أَجْرَهُمْ بِغَيْرِ حِسَابٍ
“Certainly those who observe patience will be given their reward in full without measure.”
And it fills my heart with awe in anticipation for what Allah has in store for us. Can you imagine? The Lord of the seven heavens, the seven earth, every single creature and non-living thing in this world, is promising a reward without measure. Without limit. A Lord who is the Most Generous, Most kind, what do you think He has prepared for us? What exactly does ‘No Limit’ mean for HIM? Definitely something beyond our human mind’s comprehension.

Think of this man for example:The Prophet (ﷺ) said, “I know the person who will be the last to come out of the (Hell) Fire, and the last to enter Paradise. He will be a man who will come out of the (Hell) Fire crawling, and Allah will say to him, ‘Go and enter Paradise.’ He will go to it, but he will imagine that it had been filled, and then he will return and say, ‘O Lord, I have found it full.’ Allah will say, ‘Go and enter Paradise, and you will have what equals the world and ten times as much (or, you will have as much as ten times the like of the world).’ On that, the man will say, ‘Do you mock at me (or laugh at me) though You are the King?” I saw Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) (while saying that) smiling that his premolar teeth became visible. It is said that will be the lowest in degree amongst the people of Paradise. (Sahih al-Bukhari 6571) 

Subhanallah, if this is what the last person to enter Jannah is given, what more should we hope and expect from our Rab? How much more merciful, loving, generous is He?

Jabir narrated that the Prophet (s.a.w) said: “On the Day of Judgement, when the people who were tried (in this world) are given their rewards, the people who were pardoned (in life), will wish that their skins had been cut off with scissors while they were in the world.” (Jami` at-Tirmidhi 2402)

So bear a little more, dear believer. Whatever you’re battling through silently;
فصبر جميل والله المستعان
“So patience is most fitting. And Allah is the one sought for help.” 

These are very trying times for the people of Palestine but the reward they will get from Allah will make us envy them. At the very least, they know they have reserved spots in Jannah biidhnillah. We don’t. May Allah grant us all the highest levels of Jannah, ameen.

As Muslims, as human beings, we have an obligation towards those in Palestine. We must be outraged by what is happening to them. We must speak up. We must create awareness and educate the masses about the history of Palestine and the oppression taking place. We must teach our young ones about Al Aqsa and its rich history to the Muslims and why it is so important to us (Can check out this video for that: Palestine ). We must use all our platforms to share their stories, and their dreams, and their cries, and their culture. We must boycott Israeli products. We should never allow people to think of Palestinians as just numbers. These are human beings, and they desperately need to be treated as such! Never underestimate the power of coming together and being a voice for the voiceless. We must never get tired, we must not lose hope. Alhamdulilah we are very, very privileged to be able to even put our phones away when we feel overwhelmed by their news and videos. They however have been experiencing this terror throughout their lives! We thus must never get tired!

Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “You see the believers as regards their being merciful among themselves and showing love among themselves and being kind, resembling one body, so that, if any part of the body is not well then the whole body shares the sleeplessness (insomnia) and fever with it.

Sahih al-Bukhari 6011

Most importantly, we must make constant and sincere duas for them. Let’s wake up even for one night and pray tahajjud and cry to Allah about them. Let’s remember that dua can change qadr, and perhaps it is through our frequent duas for them that Allah grants them victory sooner. Do not for one moment underestimate the power of dua, or Allah’s power to change everything in just ONE INSTANCE. Let’s thank Allah for the blessings of life, food, water, clothing, roof and family. Let us seek Allah’s forgiveness for our shortcomings and our ingratitude. Let us seek refuge in Allah. Let us not stop praying for them!

Additionally, let’s sacrifice what we have, however little, and donate it to them. It doesn’t matter how little you think it is. The People in Gaza are starving, lack medical aid, lack water…they basically have nothing. So I kindly urge you to sacrifice what you have and biidhnillah, in the hereafter, they will mention our names as those who stood by their side.

Here are some ways you can donate to the people of Gaza and Palestine:

A few months back, just countable days before Ramadhan, my mum called me excitedly to show me a very moving story of a Pakistani woman in Tanzania being fundraised for. The project attracted so many donors around the globe that the fundraisers (a TV station) could buy a piece of land and build a house for her and her children (one of them is physically challenged). My mum’s first remark was, ‘Look! He does just like what you do! (fundraising projects)’. 

‘Not for houses though!’ I laughed.

‘This is a TV station so they have a wider reach, but maybe one day you will do something like this too.’

‘Maybe…in shaa Allah.’

That became the beginning of our daily following of this exciting show and specifically, this Pakistani woman’s story. My mother would eagerly wait for the next episode so that we’d watch it together. To say it was inspiring is an understatement. Her life was changing COMPLETELY, and for the better; a true miracle was unfolding. As the building process went on, my mother would often reminisce about her younger years when she and my father were entrusted to do such projects to build mosques and wells and even houses alhamdulilah. Little did we know what lay ahead…


It was just a few days after Eidul Hajj when a friend whom I deeply admire for her dedication to her Qur’an memorization journey, reached out to me about their mud house that was gradually collapsing. All they were asking for was a loan so that they could restore their house. At the time, there were heavy rains all over Kilifi County and the imagination of how anyone could be living in such a condition truly broke my heart. 

I mentioned the situation to someone I know who knows my friend’s neighbourhood, and was shocked! She asked, “You mean there are people living in that house?! I’ve always passed that same route to go to work and the house is in a very, very bad state. I never thought someone could even live in it!”

I felt helpless. And sad. And every time it rained outside my window, my heart ached a bit more. I had never done a project of this magnitude. Sometimes my projects take looong in such a demoralizing way. What if I start something, give them false hope then get stuck halfway? Still unsure of what to do, I decided to put up a post calling out to anyone or any organization to assist the family.

One of the first people to reach out to me was an ex-uni mate, and when he was asking for details about the house, I offered to give him my friend’s mum’s contact. He advised me then that it is best if I took the lead role in the project in order to efficiently manage the situation. I agreed, albeit reluctantly and decided to put up information for the opening of the fundraising. Before I even did that, someone from Twitter responded to my initial post and sent 100k. I was stunned. How?! A total stranger who didn’t even put me through an extended ‘interrogation’ as most donors do (I know I know, the world is full of scammers lol) So people can trust me with this? I got an immediate motivation boost subhanallah.

Right away, I called an architect/contractor to make a sketch of a new brick house. At the time, I knew a brick house would be way more expensive but I was unstoppable 😀 The contractor came the same evening and showed me the cost of just a few materials. It was around 300k. I said, ‘We can do this!’ He said, ‘There is still a lot more. It could get to double.’ 

‘Yeah, but I believe Allah will bring a way. Let’s tawakkal.’

‘My concern is that we don’t know how the fundraising could go. We could demolish the house and start building but then get stuck, leaving the family stranded.’

Excitedly, I said, ‘Yeah I understand but let’s just start. I believe when people start seeing the work taking place, more donors will appear. They’ll be motivated to finish it.’

Both my parents were seated with me at the time and they both interjected, ‘Kujenga si mchezo (Construction is not that simple)…’ My dad said.

‘Huyu she’s just excited at the moment,’ my mum joined, ‘but let us see. Perhaps the donors will come through when we start the process.’

We wrapped up the brief sitting with the plan to start the demolishing of the house soonest. At the time, another good lady and friend, Dr Kulthum, had collected donations for the family that had totalled 48,980/= alhamdulilah. (May Allah bless her with goodness in both worlds!)

And so it began. The fundraising. The shifting of the family to a rental. The house demolishing and the construction thereafter. The money coming in. Offers to help from every corner. 

Whenever I talked to my friend’s family, I would tell them, ‘So I think this is only what we can do for now.’ But Subhanallah, money kept coming in and coming in. Friends. Family. Mutual friends. Total strangers. Long-term donors from previous projects. 

Every few days I’d tell them, ‘Okay I think you can move into your house after two days’ or ‘Just this one thing remaining and we’ll be done with this project’, ‘We don’t have money to do this right now, maybe you can save for it in the future’ and someone would send me money out of nowhere. In the early stages of the fundraising, there was a short period where the donations slowed down a bit, but subhanallah, once we picked up the pace again, we were unstoppable. At some point, I stopped asking for donations anymore because I didn’t even have to ask. There were three individuals who were very keen on the project and let me know repeatedly that I shouldn’t hesitate to reach out to them in case anything was needed. Three total strangers. Three angels from Allah. Two of them ended up donating over 200k (one of whom was the one who sent the first 100k), and one close to 200k. Then two sisters joined in, sending me money from their family and friends group from time to time also getting to 200k (or over, I can’t even remember anymore 😀 ) Then Artistic Hope Organization offered to do some of the work (Plastering the whole house, plumbing and electrical). Best of all were our consistent donors who despite giving smaller amounts, kept giving and giving from what Allah blessed them with, alhamdulilah!

And I kept thinking Subhanallah, Allah is showing us again and again, ‘Who are you to determine what is enough?’ And I told this to my mum and said, ‘Perhaps our vision is so low compared to what Allah wants to give them. We just want them to have a house, but perhaps Allah wants to give them a dream house. Perhaps they have a secret with Allah or perhaps they have been patient for so long that Allah is finally giving the long-awaited relief.’’ 

And so we kept making changes to our initial plan because we had to consider what can we do better for them (since there was more money). It wasn’t easy of course and the construction team was inconvenienced quite a few times, but alhamdulilah for their patience and dedication.

During the finishing stages, when only about three fundis were still working on site doing the ceiling, I sat with my friend at the front stairs of the newly built house feeling the cool breeze from the ocean.

“I need you to tell me the secret…” 

“Which secret?” She laughed.

“Which secret do you have with Allah? Because I’ve NEVER done a fundraising like this, and I’ve been doing fundraisings for almost a decade now. Never …Subhanallah. This is the FIRST TIME EVER that I don’t literally have to beg people to donate. You have seen it yourself! And now,  people are racing to help your family mashallah Allah ybarik. What’s the story? Or what dua have you been making so we copy your method?” I laughed.

‘“Aren’t you the one who tells us to have secrets with Allah?” She chuckled, referring to the nasheed I love and frequently share by Mishary Al Afasy (Do you have secrets with Allah).

“Hahaha, okay but this secret you have to tell me. There must be a story behind it; a story that I and everyone who’s donated can benefit from. Because wallahy, this, for me, is a miracle. I’ve never seen this Subhanallah.”

With tears in her eyes, she said Alhamdulilah. Then went on to say, ‘It’s been dua, a lot of dua…’ Then started narrating their story to me.

Around 6 years back, my friend and her family lived on the outskirts of Mombasa town. However, their mother got divorced and because she was a simple housewife, she was unable to sustain the town life. She decided to come back to her father’s home in the remote areas of Kilifi. For them, it was a huge and TOUGH adjustment. From town life, they now moved to an old mud house. No electricity. No water. The bathroom is outside. The bushes became the toilet. As a jilbabi and niqabi, you can imagine the struggle of taking a bath in a space that is only covered with mabati and leso; almost an exposed space (especially since the mabati had holes only covered with nylon). They would share a bed that didn’t even have a mattress. 

“I would walk 45 minutes to the stage every morning to go to university and another 45 every evening. It got so tiring, I started living with a relative in Mombasa. But she was verbally aggressive. And I would be patient until when I’d feel my heart is too tired I can’t take it anymore, is when I would come back to Kilifi and continue commuting daily. Then when I’d get tired of commuting I’d go back to my relative…like that…”

This was a family that was once at the upper middle class- with water in the house, electricity and stability of a home. Their life turned upside down. But their patience was yet to be tested even more.

With each heavy rain, the mud house developed more and more cracks. At the same time, the neighbourhood was gaining some development. Slowly, the neighbours around started building brick houses in place of their mud houses one by one. Then when the government launched the token metres, homes got the token devices for free. So soon enough, the neighbourhood was bright with lights. Except this one house. Because of its dire state, and despite having the token metre, it was a risk for them to connect electricity since the house was clearly collapsing. Eventually, KPLC uninstalled the service line just for the safety of the family.

The neighbours started making fun of them and their house. When my friend would go to the shop she’d hear people joke, ‘Waschana warembo lakini nyumba ya kuanguka’. When their youngest brother would come home from school, his schoolmates would laugh loudly, calling out his name, pointing at the collapsing house and saying, ‘Hii ndio nyumba yenu!’ They were all so humiliated, so ashamed that they’d avoid going to the shops or even outside except when necessary.

Now the neighbours, who were now of a better living standard, used to gather in the evening. The women around would lay down their mikeka to chit chat (spell ‘gossip’) and because my friend and her mother were against such behaviour and wouldn’t join them, they became even more secluded. The neighbours barely ever had a good word for them, instead, they were the ones mocking and humiliating them at every opportunity. And as known in Swahili culture, they would ‘walisha vijembe’ by blasting out taarab music with insults, clearly directed at them.

“Si siri wajulikana wewe

Hauna sifa za kike wewe

Una nongwa we jeuri wewe

Mambo nare nare

Niko nae mimi sare

Usilete hare hare

Utakuja kufa bure….

Nnavokujua sio mwanamke wewe

Unajitwaza si mwanamke wewe

Unachechemesha si mwanamke wewe

Umejiangusha cheo kujishusha

Sasa unapasha mpasha upashike

Heshima uweke

Heshima uweke…

Wakati wa mwengine huu

Si wakati wako huu

Wakati wa mwengine huu

Si wakati wako huu

Mambo nare nare du

Umewekwa kando du

Unachekwa sasa du

Unachekwa sasa du…”

(Rough lyrics)

At the time, it was raining heavily outside, the house is leaking all over…mother and daughter are hiding in their collapsing house; humiliated and heartbroken; calling out to Allah…during the best ten days of Dhulhijjah. Crying to Him out of helplessness and pain.

“I always wanted to be the one to build this house for my mother,” my friend said. “I had a part-time job and was trying to save slowly so that we could renovate the house. But life was so tough, especially as the was always hand to mouth. Then corona happened and I lost my job. That dream faded. I felt so helpless. So I returned to Allah and begged Him that I cannot do this myself, only He can…and I prayed that He brings me a halal and kheyr means for this house to be built. I prayed so much during Arafah as well. But since we came here, we’ve always been praying for relief. Then I contacted you after Eid asking for help and what happened happened…”

Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps. Tears in her eyes. Tears in my eyes as I write this. Subhanallah. Subhanallah. Look at Allah’s Power. His kindness. His mercy. How He can change one’s condition JUST.LIKE.THAT!!! How He responds to duas. How He rewards for patience. How He hears how others are mistreating you and will grant you comfort. Indeed, with hardship comes ease, ALLAHU AKBAR!

Now, from the very beginning of the project, we really desired that the family gets electricity in the house. However, we kept getting obstacles until finally, we opted for M-solar (lipa mdogo mdogo solar program) alhamdulilah.

So on Thursday evening, the family officially moved into their house. And as they were settling in, there happened a blackout in the entire town. Literally! There was darkness at every corner of the town except ONE HOUSE. Only this one house that was always being mocked. Only this one house that was always looked down upon. Only this one house that was once the symbol of extreme poverty. Subhanallah! And so while the whole town drowned in darkness, Allah illuminated His light on just this one house. Coincidence? Could never be! Here was Allah, showing the people His Might and Power to change circumstances. A moral lesson they’ll never forget!

And all this is clear proof that Allah’s promise is true when He said: “Surely, Allah is with those who are As-Sabirun (the patient).” [al-Anfal 8:46]

And again: “If anything good happens to you they are grieved; if any misfortune befalls you they rejoice at it. But if you remain steadfast and mindful of Allah their designs will not cause you harm. Allah surely encompasses all that they do.” [Al ‘Imran 3:120]

Now standing very tall, is the only fully-plastered, painted house with solar power in the neighbourhood, Allah ybarik!

This is our good Lord. ALLAHU AKBAR!

Here’s what it’s all about:

A believer’s patience.

The power of dua.

The reward of patience.

The power of Allah.

The justice of Allah.

The miracle of Allah.

The miracle house!

“And whoever is mindful of Allah, He will make a way out for them, and provide for them from sources they could never imagine. And whoever puts their trust in Allah, then He ˹alone˺ is sufficient for them. Certainly Allah achieves His Will. Allah has already set a destiny for everything.”

[At-Talaq: 2-3]


Sincere gratitude to EACH AND EVERY ONE of you for being part of this amazing project. Regardless of what amount you donated or whether you shared the posts only, YOU DID THIS! You raised KSHS 1, 018, 093.50. YOU BUILT THIS HOUSE! In just a matter of 41 days, we managed to raise money AND build a 4-bedroom house with a separate bathroom, toilet and kitchen. ALLAHU AKBAR! May Allah bless you and your families with lofty gardens and palaces in Jannat ul Firdaus, ameen!

Special thanks to both our contractor and his construction team and the Artistic Hope Organization team for the amazing work they did to the house. And for their patience throughout the challenges. May Allah bless the work of your hands and raise your status in Jannah.

And to my dearest family and closest friends who gave me so much support, both physically and emotionally throughout this project(my biggest one yet!)  and for being patient with me when I was crying or getting very irritable at every small inconvenience 😀 Alhamdulilah thumma alhamdulilah.


When I posted the last video update showing the house, I showed it to my parents first. Both of them cried, and they kept replaying the video over and over and over, tears still streaming from their eyes. I wish y’all could have seen how my mother was now excitedly waiting for my daily updates on the construction project more than she was when we were watching that program. But better than all that is that this entire project was mainly under their guidance, alhamdulilah!!

Just a few days before the completion of the project, as I was laying down in bed looking at the house standing, my mother patted my hair and said, “Finally you’ve come into our line (of projects). You’re truly my daughter.” Urgh. My heart. For them to have witnessed and actively guided and supported me throughout this project is a full circle for me. Alhamdulilah! May Allah grant us all sincerity in what we do Ya Rab!

My only request is that when you see any goodness in my very flawed being, please make dua for my 3 parents (one is deceased, Allah yirhamha) to be granted good health and wellness both in this life and the next, and that they enter Jannatul Firdaus without hisab, for they have been my inspiration always and my biggest supporters alhamdulilah!

If I started blogging early 2014, should I mark this year as ‘9 years as a blogger’ or should I count it as my 10th year as a blogger? Like, do I count 2023 minus 2014 or do I count 2014, 2015, 2016…to 2023? Or is it all the same thing, just different ways of saying it? Lol yeah right, Maths still is a nightmare. I had to ask three people to confirm that this is my 10th year 😀 Mathematicians, pardon my ignorance but at this point I just need divined intervention 😀

Anywayyyss, this is the 10th year good peopleee! Can you believe it?! It’s been a journey and a half alhamdulilah. Many of you have accompanied me from the very start when I was using Blogspot (old college days!) before migrating to this website. You’ve watched me grow and evolve. You’ve watched my voice and writing style become more distinct over the years. You’ve laughed with me, smiled with me, cried with me, grieved with me, thought with me and watched those thoughts change over time too. You’ve become part of my family, sharing the small and large moments with me. Many of you were there when the blog was nominated by BAKE (Bloggers Association of Kenya) to be among the top 5 creative writing blogs alhamdulilah. You’ve witnessed the blog evolve too; from writing silly moments about my anxiety, Mombasa weddings, exorcism- the Mombasa version, literally having those nightmares about maths lol, my interesting thoughts while walking under-the-bridge tunnel at Buxton, my rejections and work failures, frustrations at the public offices, letters to my better half (my priorities have realllyyy changed by the way 😀 ), World cup and Olympics thrills, my happy people (more to come on this in shaa Allah 😀 ), my beloved family, my weak attempt at writing about travel (I just haven’t gotten to travel moreee) to the more serious topics on mental health, loss and grief, spirituality, and life lessons as the years go by. Alhamdulilah, alhamdulilah!

It has always been intentional for me to make the blog as diverse as possible so that anyone who opens my blog can find something relatable. And it is my hope that more people will continue to find laughter, benefit, inspiration, enjoyment and comfort in this website.

Many of you have supported me endlessly and unconditionally; you’ve read my work, shared it with your networks, given me feedback and positive critique, subscribed to the website and had firm faith in me even when I was going through long periods of writer’s block. I’ve had the honour of interacting with several of you, one on one, and you’ve helped me immensely over the years by giving suggestions, sharing ideas, sharing your own life stories and lessons, discussing life, joking about life moments, and letting me know that my work is being read and enjoyed. We’ve pretty much done life together-stumbling through it all and making our way towards growth. 

Over the years, we were also graced by different amazing and very talented writers who wrote as guests on this blog. Their witty, funny and interesting contributions spiced up this space even more.

For all this, I am deeply, deeply grateful. I have never and will never take this for granted. It is by Allah’s mercy and tawfiq and your support that keeps me going and motivating me to never give up on my dream as a writer.

As we mark this 10th year, I have two announcements to make:

First of all, to commemorate this milestone, I will hold a FREE online blogging workshop on the 28th of January, (2 p.m. onwards) to train 10 aspiring bloggers in shaa Allah. For anyone who is interested, kindly email me at (First come, First serve!)

Secondly, I’d love to invite you all to support me further in this journey. I am introducing a patronage program for the blog where readers can chip in and support in the growth and content creation of this website. There won’t be a standard fee (Don’t worry I am not pulling CBK’s bank to Mpesa charges sort of thing, albeit their failed attempt 😀 ) but rather it will be an open invitation for anyone to give whatever they feel, at whatever time is convenient. One can contribute weekly, monthly, whenever a blog is posted or whenever one feels generous 😀 Any amount is most welcome too! This will assist me to grow this website further, do more content creation, research and maybe even conduct more writing trainings!

If the blog has ever been relatable, a source of joy, smiles & laughter, comfort, inspiration, enlightenment, and made you feel heard and seen, then I’ll really appreciate your support.

Before I share the patronage details, here’s a reminder that my books are also available for purchase:

Reflection & Resurgence: A Believer’s Journey to Allah @ 1500/= (With Ramadhan approaching, here’s a book to consider for the spiritual month)

A Fire Within & Other Stories (by a couple of African writers that includes my short story) @ 950/=

Threads and Faces (by a couple of African writers that includes my poem) @ 650/=

Saida and The Eid Dress @ 230/=

For anyone interested to purchase, kindly text me at 0704 731 560

For your faith this far, I am beyond touched. May God bless each one of you immensely and for the support you grant me, may God bring you forth good people to support your dreams as well.

Below are the details on how to become a patron for our blog. Thank you once again. May your unwavering support be worth the while always, ameen!

As an empath and a deeply sensitive person, I spent most of my years caring for others to the point of codependency. I always sought to help, assist and take care of others, entangling myself in deep attachments that were not always healthy and that sometimes made me lose myself. As years went by, I learnt the very hard way that human beings will disappoint you deeply-whether intentionally or otherwise. They definitely will. This is because, at the end of the day, we’re humans- we’re flawed by nature. We all make mistakes and sometimes, you and I will be on the receiving end of these wrongs.

Some people will use you and then abandon you, some will betray you, and some will hurt you in unimaginable ways even if they weren’t out to do so from the start. And I came to realize much later on that the reason I always ended up hurt in my relationships with others, was because of my deep attachment to them.

I put my people on a pedestal and had such high expectations of them because, in my view, I would do the same for them, and much much more. I made them my objects of admiration and sometimes obsession, blinding myself from the fact that you cannot own another human being, regardless of how much you do for them or what they mean to you.

At the end of the day, each one of us has our own story, struggles, flaws, baggage, expectations and goals. And however much we pour into other people, they are not obliged to do the same for us. It is true that in our religion, love and brotherhood are highly promoted, yet the reality is, how many people sincerely care about those around them?

When we attach our happiness and fulfilment to worldly things and mortals then it is a recipe for pain. We shall keep pursuing it-whether it is the love of human beings, or their approval, wealth, status, or fame- it will never fill us. Instead, we will become slaves to these attachments.

“Anyone whose heart is attached to the creation, hoping for someone from the creation to help him or provide for him or guide him, then his heart submits to them and (according) to the degree that his heart submits to them, he becomes their slave. This holds true, even if he is outwardly a ruler or guardian over those whom he treats as masters. The wise one looks at realities and not at appearances. So if a man’s heart is attached to his wife, even though that is permissible, his heart remains a prisoner to her and she may rule over him as she pleases – though outwardly he is her master and her husband. In reality, he is her prisoner and her slave, especially if she knows how much he is in need of her and how much he is in love with her and how much he feels she cannot be replaced by anyone else. At that point, she rules over him as the tyrant master rules over his subjugated slave, who cannot escape or go free. Indeed for the heart to be taken as a prisoner is a much greater matter than for the body to be taken as a slave or prisoner. Even a body that is a slave can have in it a serene and peaceful and happy heart. As for the heart that is a slave to other than Allah (the Exalted), then that is true humiliation, imprisonment and slavery.”

-Ibn Taymiyyah Rahimahullah

An older sister in Islam that I really look up to sat me down the other day and told me her story of being deeply betrayed by her very best friend of about twenty years, and then went on to say, “You’re naturally a giver and I see how you care about other people and how you go extra lengths for them…I of course do not want to discourage you from helping others and being there for them, I just want you to be careful about how much you give of yourself. We do want that genuine, amazing sisterhood, but beware, this is not the world for it. This is not the place to lay out your entire heart for people. We can hope for that in Jannah in shaa Allah. As for now, know your limits. Don’t go above and beyond for people at the detriment of yourself.”

I have been sitting with her statements to date and I ponder a lot about them. Reflecting on my past and how my deep attachments to people mostly brought me extreme pain and disappointment, it totally makes sense. The life of Dunya has no value in the long run, except for what we shall have prepared for the next life. And perhaps it is high time we accepted that we can never truly find fulfilment in this life through other creations. It is only by our relationship with Allah Subhanahu Wataala.

This reminds me of something I read a while back, quoted from Ibn Al Qayyim Al Jawziya Rahimahullah: 

“If a heart becomes attached to anything other than Allah, Allah makes him dependent on what he is attached to. And he will be betrayed by it.”

The pain, grief and heartbreak we experience from our objects of attachment are meant to remind us that Allah alone is the One we can fully rely on, have high expectations on, and trust completely. It is comforting to know that regardless of what happens, or how much we falter, He will always be merciful to us. Always awaiting our return. The hurt is meant to return us to Allah, the only One who will never fail us.

Even as I continue to unlearn so many things in my life, I realize I cannot do this without the help of Allah Subhanahu Wataala. I realize that I have no one but Allah to protect my soul from unhealthy attachments, from being blinded by love, and from holding onto what is not meant for me. He is the one who can fill the void inside my heart with peace and serenity regardless of who or what is in my life or the circumstances I am facing. I thus aim to have Allah as my very closest friend; the only one I know for sure will never hurt me and the only one I can lay bare to all my baggage and pain, without shame or fear.

Some of my favourite duas that I recite to seek Allah’s love, closeness, and protection are:

يارب إزرع في قلبي حبك، أشغلني بك وحدك، قربني إليك أكثر كي لا أبكي إلا من أجل شوقي لنور وجهك .. اللهم حُبك

My Lord, plant in my heart your love, occupy me with you alone, bring me closer to you so that I do not cry except for my longing for the light of your face. Ya Allah, your love…

‏اللهم إني أسألك حبك، وحب من يحبك، والعمل الذي يبلغني حبك، اللهم اجعل حبك أحب إلى من نفسي، وأهلي، ومن الماء البارد

O Allah! I ask You for Your Love, the love of those who love You, and deeds which will cause me to attain Your Love. O Allah! Make Your Love dearer to me than myself, my family and the cold water.

يا حي يا قيوم ، برحمتك أستغيث ، أصلح لي شأني كله ، ولا تكلني إلى نفسي طرفة عين

O Ever-Living, O Self-sustaining and All-sustaining, by Your mercy I seek help; rectify all my affairs and do not leave me in charge of my affairs even for the blink of an eye (i.e. a moment).

At the times when I am so overwhelmed by situations or other beings, and desperate to find peace in only Him, I keep my mouth wet with the short form of the first dua: 

اللهم أشغلني بك وحدك 

O Allah, occupy me with You alone i.e. Your worship and Your love.

May Allah strengthen our souls and Imaan. May He guide us to Him and make us among those who rely upon Him alone. May He grant us beautiful friendships, connections and relationships that will thrive both in this world and in Jannah. May He protect us from the unhealthy attachments of this world and the fitna and all the evil in it. May we always have the wisdom to only pursue His pleasure and love, Ameen.

You may read the second part of this article here.

I love this one; with his brown eyes, cute dimples, and not-fully formed disarranged teeth. I call him ‘Bundle of Joy’ because he was born in twenny twenny; the year we were all occupied at the supermarkets, with plastic containers on our heads, and almost coming to blows for the tissue papers and sanitizers (wiilddd times!). I needed him and maybe my vanity allows me to say he needed me too, for I was there to receive him from the moment he took his first breath. But mostly, if I am really honest, I love him because he loves me too, almost in an obsessive manner.

‘You got what you wanted didn’t you?’ My mum would often chorus it to me when I complain that he should give me a moment to breathe. As if to rub it on my face, she would repeat it again when he is holding the lower part of my dress with his tiny hands, following me from room to room, from corner to corner, until I get to the washroom and I stare at him. He stares back with a fake cry until I close the door on his face. He continues whining till I am out and we continue our tailing game. When I am out of his sight, he comes and throws the door to my room open, and walks in with vigor. And when the door is closed, he lays down flat on the floor outside like a typical spoilt brat, crying. Once he sees the door opening, he slowly gathers himself up and seizes to cry. Or when I ignore him, he throws himself to the floor, down on his knees before finally lying flat on the ground. You can see him summon his cry from the bottom of his heart, his hand on his forehead and I roll my eyes ‘Drama king!’ Sigh. Is this how tough motherhood is?

They say the third’s time is always a charm. Indeed. How else did I deserve this love? I, who used to fight for Hassan and Halimi’s affection endlessly?! (Tough times y’all!) And suddenly I am receiving this profound love on a silver platter. Hassun (somehow all their nicknames start with H) comes to my room every morning blabbering and with a big smile, ready to terrorize the room, sometimes throwing anything he gets hold of out of the window. This makes me grab him and leave the room together. We sit in the sitting room and he cuddles up on my chest or other times on my lap, occasionally looking up to my face as we watch ‘Omar and Hana’ or ‘Dave and Ava’. He smiles often and sometimes he spontaneously kisses my hand, which warms my heart with all sorts of colours I never knew existed. He lets me kiss him endlessly which makes me appreciate how easy I am having it this time compared to the other two. And when it is his time to nap he lays his head on my shoulder as I pace back and forth singing or rather struggling with Swahili lullabies; more words missing than not. Or I decide to sing for him ‘You’re my honey bunch sugar plum…’ Again, with so many words missing, I realize this is not my thing at all. Yet when I get to the part ‘Snoogums, boogums’ (I googled this lol) which I sing as ‘Schikum chikum’, he bursts into laughter or gives me a big smile like it is the most amusing thing ever… and it melts my hearts. I imagine this is what motherhood is about; whether by biology or nurturing. It is these small, tiny moments of pure joy that make all the difference. So even when I want to breathe and he is attached to my side and I just want to put him down, I just have to look into his adorable eyes and joy fills my heart, erasing all the irritation he causes me in the first place.

While we are the inseparable duo the whole day, here’s the plot twist for you; when his mother arrives from work, he doesn’t even maintain eye contact with me. The theory is that if he looks at me, he probably assumes his mother will disappear. So my mere attempt of touching his hand or kissing his cheek brings about shooing me away with his agitated, ‘Nonono’. His ignore game so strong at this hour, and all I say is, ‘Well, morning shall come, shan’t it?’ Despite his arrogance when with his mum, I am content with the love I am given during the day. Granted, a mother will always be a mother, and I am not trying to compete with her. So I take my rest like the part-time mother I have become. My family calls me his ‘mama two’. It is not such a baaad job anyway. Any mother wouldn’t mind having some selfish-not-so-selfish hours to themselves. The next morning I resume having a tail; with his fast and tiny feet trying to catch up with me.

Hassan and Halimi have grown considerably. The once rebellious Hassan is now a disciplined, typical-first-born child. When I go pick them up from school, Hassan still has his shirt tucked in (almost). His socks are still above his ankles. He still has his mask on his ears. He wears his lunch bag on his neck until I arrive at his class when he hands it over. Who ever thought? (If you read My Happy Person 1 you know what I am talking about 😀 ) He is caring and affectionate and so loving. I see it every time he sees his baby brother Hassun on the table, or when the door is open; how he rushes to call out to an adult so he can be protected. Sometimes I’d send him downstairs to open the door and he will chorus ‘Hassun, Hassun’ to indicate that there is the risk of baby brother following him downstairs. He still hasn’t articulated his speech like other kids his age but he has significantly improved since he started schooling alhamdulilah. Once we get home from school, he quickly changes his clothes, eats, and asks to do his homework (mashallah thu thu thu). He then sits and watches ‘Numberblocks’ which is pure math. Sometimes we look at what he is watching and just be amazed and amused. He would be watching multiplication of rather huge numbers you’d think he is in grade 4 (or above) and not PP 2. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying it because he is fully focused and complains if you dare change the channel. As such, he’s memorized rather difficult multiplication numbers bigger for comprehension than his age, so we call him our little genius mashallah tabarakallah. I look at him concentrating and call out his name. He smiles shyly. I tell him ‘I love you’, he says it back, quickly before looking back at the TV. He says it back now; without hesitation or arrogance. My dad was right after all; sometimes you should let people appreciate you at their own timing without forcing your love on them.

Halimi is the total opposite; he is cheerful, charming, full of energy, and playful mashallah. When I pick him up from his classroom, he has no mask, his shirt untucked, and his shoes untied, full of dust. His teacher often has something to say, ‘He sleeps the entire afternoon’, ‘He was crying for his mother’ ‘His Juzuu is torn’. SMH. I tie his shoes and off we go. Throughout our trip home, he is shouting, ‘LOOK! LOOK! MOTORCYCLE!’ ‘LORRY!’ ‘COW!’ ‘LOOOOK! TREE!’ ‘VEHICLE!’ With a lot of blabbering that I can’t really make out what he is saying. He is loud enough for passersby to look our way. His excitement is almost touchable and so innocent. His curiosity is seen in his cute eyes. ‘It’s cominggg!’ he would say loudly upon seeing a vehicle approaching us. He would read random words written on the doors of kiosks, and make sure that I am listening to him. His obsession with vehicles is fascinating. You should see his excitement when he sees a garbage truck- GARBAGE TRUCK! LOOK! Who is even this happy to see a garbage truck?! EXCAVATOR! he would shout upon seeing one. And this priceless reaction is the same every single time as if it is his first time seeing these things. He has an entire vocabulary of different types of vehicles, all thanks to ‘Blippi’ (A very educative and enjoyable series for kids. If you have kids you should definitely check it out). All this while Hassan is silently walking but then at some point when he sees people looking our way, he would shout to Halimi ‘Nyamaza wewe!’. Typical introvert-ambivert exchange. They both fumble with words with their English accent (Blippi again) and rather big words that I never heard of till my adult age (Blippi!). It never stops to amuse me how different the two brothers are; like two sides of the same coin-and I can’t wait for Hassun to grow up so we can discover his personality too.

Halimi is the trouble-maker, so once he gets home he quickly asks one of us to remove his uniform. He says it with such urgency you might think he is in clutches. Once changed, he eats while he plays with his toy cars-the excavator is his favourite, or watches Blippi or any kids channel that has vehicles in it. You have to beg him to do his homework. He teases you around while laughing, as you try to change him or make him do his homework. He comes to my study desk often; which always ends up with me kicking him out of the room with ‘I love you but NO!’ He gets to my nerves. He knows it and thus enjoys frequenting my desk with his toy cars and making bridges out of my books. Sometimes he would request that I (or one of us at home) open for him ‘police monster truck’ on youtube and once we do, he would shoo me away with his finger, while saying ‘wendaa! wendaa!’ to mean go away. We are yet to understand whether he does this out of shyness or arrogance lol.

When we started telling him ‘Allah yihdiik’ (May God guide you) whenever we were angry with him, he would repeat to us ‘Allah yihdiik!’ like it is simply a game for him. But other than his mischief, he is adorable, and sometimes when he is in a good mood, he gives random hugs and kisses, which means the world to me.

My baby Hassun turns two this year in shaa Allah. Whenever they ask me who is my favourite I say I love them all, but then he is the only one I created a verse for. It goes like ‘Oy oy ooooy, bundle of jooooy, handsome boooooy’ (lame, I know!) and his two elder brothers would chorus along with me. They tell me I am a chameleon, for with every nephew’s birth I claimed the newborn is my favourite (It isn’t a lie though). But this time it is different; he loves me as dearly as I love him. That counts for something, doesn’t it?!

May Allah protect my babies, grant them good health, guide them and make them great and kind human beings, ameen!


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I recently had a conversation with a friend concerning a character in a TV competition who was sweet, very honest, and nice. Well, at least that’s how I viewed the character. He was kind to fellow contestants and loyal to those he had made a connection with. Every other contestant knew for sure where they stood with him because he was as real and raw as possible. On the other hand, my friend viewed this same character as boring and going an extra mile just to be liked-calling him a people-pleaser. That was a first for me, because how?! Or is this the perfect depiction of the 6 and 9 image, where one sees a 6 yet another sees the same image as a 9?

Okay, I get it. There is a very thin line between being nice and people-pleasing. Sometimes the differences are blurry and one could easily cross the line. We, of course, don’t deny that people-pleasing isn’t the healthiest way to lead a life yet why do we always assume that when someone is nice, there’s more to them (secret agenda) or nothing about them (mediocre or too boring)?

When a man is so nice he is considered weak. When it is a woman, she is lacking intelligence and a voice. When it is a husband, he is pretentious or too good to be true. When it is a wife, she is too submissive and unempowered. When it is an employee, he/she is a people-pleaser and when it is a leader, we consider all their nice and kind acts to be PR stunts. Is it that we have completely lost faith in humanity that we no longer believe in good when we see it?

When Ghaith of Qalby Etmaan (a charity progran about a man traveling around the world helping people of all kinds) came to Kenya and the episodes were aired last Ramadhan, it was quite hilarious yet sad how the Kenyans who were approached reacted. You could see the fear and skepticism on their faces. Some were very hesitant to respond to the questions Ghaith was asking, some refused to receive the envelopes being handed and some used quite the harsh tone in their conversations. I get it, this is Kenya. We’re living through tough times where a woman cannot trust her daughter with her husband, where people are kidnapped, people are killing other people in panic for fear that they’re kidnappers, dead bodies are being unearthed from the backyards, bullying and cruelty are so normalized, and sometimes well covered in the name of jokes and comedy. We see it every day on Twitter, other social media sites, and the news. We are so used to being bullied, harassed, conned, and manipulated even by our own police and leaders (especially them!) that we can’t trust a person asking for direction. We can’t trust a stranger shaking our hands. We can’t trust someone asking us who we are. When someone stops us on the way we’re already defensive and alert. Consequently, this has made us not trust any form of kindness or compassion handed to us because our ‘fight or flight’ response is already on. We tend to think that everyone is out to harm us. I truly get it…but does that mean we have given up on kindness entirely?

Most often than not, nice people are greatly misunderstood, taken advantage of, undervalued, ignored, and taken for granted. People would sort for all ways to push their buttons just to frustrate them or make them react, just to provoke them so they can stoop low to their level. But here’s the thing though, and this is the main difference between being nice and people-pleasing; Being nice means you do good to people and treat others with kindness without expecting anything in return. You see the world as a community so you offer your love, care, and support unconditionally. You forgive easily and avoid conflict in order to stay in harmony with others. You do it because you have neither the time nor the energy for drama nor chaos… not because you lack self-esteem or cannot stand up for yourself, or are not intelligent enough. People-pleasing on the other hand is a form of dependency which lacks boundaries. You do good and give to others, without being able to say no, because you expect something in return; it could be validation, attention, or acceptance. People-pleasing is a form of transaction; I will help you but you need to validate me in return. You become a doormat by allowing people to treat you badly in pursuit of their love or attention. Being nice and kind is about self-expression and having true altruism; I will help you regardless of whether you will appreciate it or not.

The stereotypes that come with being nice are many. Ask any nice person you know out there they’ll tell you; if we were expecting something in return then being nice is barely rewarding in this life. Human beings can be so ungrateful, insensitive, cruel, and irritating. Yet we still keep doing it, because we want this world to be a better place filled with more kindness and compassion, and we feel happy when we’re able to do so in our own small ways.

Kindness is especially hard when those on the receiving end are not appreciative of our actions; this could even be our own family members. But then it goes back to our intentions, ‘why are we doing this?’ Is it to seek someone’s approval or because we genuinely want to express our love and concern for them?

Our religion highly recommends being nice, kind, and compassionate. The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said: ‘Whoever gives up telling lies in support of a false claim, a palace will be built for him in the outskirts of Paradise. Whoever gives up an argument when he is in the right, a palace will be built from him in the middle (of Paradise). And whoever had good behavior, a palace will be built for him in the highest reaches (of Paradise).'” It also explicitly states in another sahih hadith that a strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than a weak one, even though both are good. This shows that Islam doesn’t recommend that a Muslim lacks a voice or dictates his self-worth only based on how people praise, love, or validate him. He shouldn’t let himself be taken advantage of or be oppressed for the sake of pleasing human beings or seeking their love. Granted, we all want to feel loved in this life but it should never be our primary goal or at the cost of our dignity and respect. We are expected to be as kind and nice as possible but it should always be for the sake of Allah and not fellow human beings.

Harold Kushner once said: Do things for people not because of who they are or what they do in return, but because of who you are.” And I think that should be a mantra for us to adapt in our lives.

Answering our question, being too nice is not necessarily being too phony. I think we should give kind, nice people the benefit of the doubt (as our religion requires from us) for their actions unless proven otherwise. Of course, I am not telling you to hop into a car with a random stranger (Especially during these scary times, may Allah protect us!) but I am saying, sometimes we judge other people too harshly based on our own fears and skepticism and that could be unfair for the other party. I believe one’s intentions always end up revealing eventually. If someone seems nice, take them as they seem. If they’re not, time will tell for sure!

Assalam aleykum good people,

It’s story time! Have a seat cause it will be a long one…

I first understood about the wars in Falastin (Palestine) when I was about 10/11 years. Even at that tender age, the thought of war and the atrocities that come with it, weighed so heavily on me and it broke my heart too many times. Growing up, I always wished to go to Palestine and get a job as a humanitarian and help the people there. I had and still have such a soft spot for them because of their bravery, their courage, their strong Imaan, their resilience subhanallah…

With time, I got exposed to what is happening in Syria, Yemen, Iraq and many other countries. And just like Palestinians, they too stole my heart for how brave and patient they are. And I really really love them for the qualities they have and what they are. It has been and still is, my long time dream to help them.

So on Thursday, when someone (I can’t thank them enough!) called me to tell me there are Palestinian refugees from Syria that are stranded and needed help, I was too excited. Not because of their situation of course but I was soooo thrilled because like ‘Allah, you didn’t take me to Palestine to help but you brought me an opportunity to help Palestinian refugees!!!’ You guys, I could barely sleep that night due to the excitement lol

The next day I got to hear from one of the sons their life journey briefly, and that night, I cried and cried and cried 
Today we went to meet them alhamdulilah and wallahy, we laughed and laughed and laughed. They were so jovial and optimistic, you would never think they are refugees stranded in a foreign country subhanallah. 

I was so moved and I thought ‘Subhanallah, Allah never burdens a soul beyond what they can handle’ Because how else could I explain how this man, making the most jokes, had lost his wife to the war and left a young boy with him? Or this elderly mother with a spinal condition that needs surgery, 3 of her houses bombed, one of her children got lost and they’re unsure whether he is alive or not, or of her ex-husband, the father of her children, who is suffering from cancer, still soldiers on every day? Or this young man who had to stop studying cause of the war, separated from his wife and child because he couldn’t bring them with him, can still smile despite it all?

Good people, I know that we’re currently doing a fundraising for Yemen, but I CANNOT let this opportunity go. This is a dream for me ;( I need to do it wallahy. So kindly, I am requesting that as from this evening, we will pause the Yemen fundraising until further notice in shaa Allah (we’re currently at 64,044/=) and help this family, for their situation s more dire.

Long story short: This Palestinian family are refugees who were living in Syria. Because the war in Syria has worsened, they decided to leave, with the hope of establishing a new life at a better place. However, the different countries they tried to enter, denied them access because their passports say ‘Palestinian refugees’. It is only Kenya that allowed them entry. When they got here, they realized Kenya is way expensive than they expected and for the past month they’ve been here, they tried to find jobs but to no avail. This is because they only know Arabic and no one could hire them cause of the language barrier. As such, they have decided to go to Lebanon, with the hope that they can settle there. They didn’t initially go to Lebanon because Lebanon itself is not stable either and is in turmoil. But since Kenya didn’t work out for them, they have to go back.

The kind of help needed is the following:

1.Accommodation: They are currently living at a one-room guest house that charges them 10 dollars per night. We are looking for people who can give them a place to live (preferably at a place that has beds and utensils, so they can be comfortable) for the 2 months they’ll be here, or that someone pays directly at the guest house for them for the time they will be here.

2. The two young men need jobs to sustain themselves in the mean time. Any kind of job that will not need them to communicate to customers since they only know Arabic.

3. Their mother has a spinal condition called L5/S1 spondylosis. She needs an operation but she says the cost in Lebanon is much cheaper, so she will wait till they get there. In the meantime, she needs medicines that will push her for a while. The total cost as originally indicated by the doctor was 48,490/=. However, we are currently searching for cheaper options at wholesale chemists or generic ones, in shaa Allah kheyr.

4. They need to go back home before their 2 month visa ends. So whatever we can collect will be of very great help to get them to Lebanon and hopefully assist them when they get there.

Have I said that helping refugees from war countries is a dream?

Guys, please help me help them. This is very important to me and I really really really want this to work out in the best scenario possible.

The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “The most beloved people to Allah are those who are most beneficial to people. The most beloved deed to Allah is to make a Muslim happy, or to remove one of his troubles, or to forgive his debt, or to feed his hunger. That I walk with a brother regarding a need is more beloved to me than that I seclude myself in this mosque in Medina for a month. Whoever swallows his anger, then Allah will conceal his faults. Whoever suppresses his rage, even though he could fulfill his anger if he wished, then Allah will secure his heart on the Day of Resurrection. Whoever walks with his brother regarding a need until he secures it for him, then Allah Almighty will make his footing firm across the bridge on the day when the footings are shaken.” [Grade: Sahih (authentic) according to Al-Albani]

Don’t we want to be among the most beloved people to Allah? Don’t we want to do deeds that Allah loves the most? Don’t we want to have a firm footing on the bridge on the day of judgment? Here’s an opportunity for me and you, and we know the reward of charity in Ramadhan is way more than normal days. So let’s do this!

Just a humble reminder: This family does qualify for zakat because they are both needy and stranded travellers/wayfarers. So you can send your Zakat too.

Please send whatever you can, help whichever way you can and please share!

Mpesa: 0704 731 560 (Lubnah)

May Allah bless you all and may He protect all those in war countries. Ameen.

Here are the mother’s hospital reports:

And below is an appeal for their father who is suffering from blood cancer and also needs financial assistance:

Adulting is reaaaallly scary. Spoken like a true human with anxiety right? 😀 You should hear my best friend and I talk about life as we see it right now. You’d think we’re the script writers of The Exorcist or the documentarians of the Ted Bundy Tapes, no in between. I admit, I’m the bad influence here; perks of being friends with a human with anxiety for too long; you start magnifying the terror too!

Is it though? Am I the only one utterly terrified about how life has turned out to be?! Is it just the magnification of my wild, wild imagination?

Absolutely not.

Okay, maybe a liiittle bit. But from what I know, every human from my age group (at least those that I interact with) are in this phase of utter daze. WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON??!! (or maybe I just hang out with very weird people, that’s a possibility too 😀 )

But here’s the thing: we now see the world as is. No curtains, no secret passage ways, no short cuts, no shades to protect us from the storms. We now understand why our parents are who they are. Why they raised us the way they did. We understand why home meals are not thaaaat bad. Why they would be so pissed when we stayed out late. Why they would lecture us endlessly about the friends we have. Why sleepovers were such a big no for them. Because truly, life is not how we perceived it. AT ALL. Because even if we had some hurtful and dark experiences in our childhood, most of us didn’t expect things to escalate this way surely ?

And maybe, our elders and teachers shouldn’t just have warned us, because at that age we see warnings as threats and unfair treatment. They should have made us understand what really awaits us too. Maybe that preparation would have helped; to know that the big, wide world is not as sweet and things are not as easy peasy as we thought. I get it, I would want to protect my children too. But hallo?! Not even a disclaimer?! 😀 Strangely, despite coming from a family that armed me with enough education, I still find myself perturbed by this age ? Or maybe no amount of understanding is enough for what really awaits us until we experience it ourselves? It could be so.

So now we have stepped into adulthood and realize that paying bills is actually a huge responsibility. That awesome grades do not necessarily guarantee success in life. That acquiring a job is very, very tricky. That hard work sometimes is not enough to get you to your goals either. That love is never enough in a marriage. That incest, rape and homosexuality is very real. That human beings are very, VERY complex, and sometimes, very cruel. That war, drought and poverty is way worse than we imagined it. That wealth does not always grant you happiness and peace of mind. That the closest people to you could harm you in very unexpected ways. That our education system is like a form of slavery. That health is a huge blessing that we really take for granted. That most connections and friendships don’t last as we’d hoped. That our parents too have their own scars and wounds that most often than not, we know nothing about. That our parents had to sacrifice a lot more than we initially thought to give us the life we have. That they’re aging very fast and the reality of their looming death haunts the mind. And not just their deaths, but the departure of all our loved ones. We now understand the depths of loss and grief. That as much as our Lord is fair and just, human beings are not. That people carry so much baggage and dark, unimaginable secrets with them; you’d neveeer guess.

Sometimes I think to myself: “Wow, someday I will bring a child to this world?!” A world where he could get shot by a stray bullet any day at any age by a reckless police officer. A world where even the religious teachers can’t fully be trusted because sodomy?! I still get very amazed by the people who say they hope to live to a hundred. Hoooooowwwww?!!! Well good luck buddy. You’re my hero!

Maybe some blame for all my terrifying thoughts is my brave old habit of watching documentaries and reading books on real life events, mostly crime. Brave because who has anxiety and still watch/read this stuff?! 😀 Yet when you interact with other people, these same terrifying stories come up. It is true; this world sometimes gets really dark.

Of course all this makes me utterly terrified, but on the flip side, it has made me very, very grateful of the seemingly small blessings. Arriving home safely, having understanding parents, slow, boring days, trustworthy and supportive friends, the ability to pay bills, the small achievements, the ability to understand the world and its people, days where no body part aches, having food daily, having goals and dreams to look forward to, meeting kind, selfless people, the ability to love oneself and push for positive growth and so many other good things.

I see human beings and realize they are much much more than what they dress, or how they look or the bright smiles they flash on social media or even how famous they are. That what is external could never define them justly. I see others struggling and putting so much effort to reach their goals and it warms my heart because I know for sure, their journey might be long, but God never abandons those who truly strive. I see those who have faced major abuse in their lives and how scarred they are, and I understand why they don’t trust other people and I pray for their healing. I understand that life is not simply black and white. There are so so many colours within. There’s still so much we could never fully comprehend.

Let’s just say, I keep being amazed by the things I learn from the universe every single day. From the horrifying stuff (Allahu Must3an) to the heart-melting ones.

Truly, adulting is like attending a major reveal party only to find out it’s a monster with so many layers that is awaiting us. But beneath all the layers of frustration, hurt, angst, and terror, there lies love, compassion, empathy and most importantly, faith. If we all look within ourselves and nurture our souls then we’d definitely have better lives and better resilience. The problems will not stop existing but we’ll have the eye that still sees the good even when all seems very ugly. We will have all it takes within us to soldier on, to still dream, to choose what battles are worth our time, to create a better world, to plant trees of hope and to fully believe in a God that never sleeps and is always watching over us!


Dear teenager reading this, pardon me if I have terrified you but I hope by the time you clock into your twenties you’d have armed yourself with over-flowing faith, empathy, gratitude and bravery. Be the ambassador of hope and love. But most importantly, don’t ever think you know better than your parents or elders. Because you don’t!!! Appreciate their input in your life while you still can 🙂


2020 hit me like a train. From the word go, from the very beginning of the year, even before Corona, everything seemed to be falling apart. I have a feeling it has been like that for most people, and on my side, I was holding by the thread. I remember when I was young, my mother would often tell me ‘don’t carry those mountains on your shoulders’. I was the cesspit of every worry. Every sadness. Every wound. I would carry it all, the scars evident all over my soul. Sometimes I look at my nephew (my happy place 1, remember?) and I see how intense his emotions are. As a highly sensitive child, he cries too passionately, you can literally feel the sob come from the deepest part of his soul, and my heart breaks a little, or maybe a lot. I want to tell him, ‘oh baby, this world is cruel, it will ruin you’ and I want to hug him so tight. I want to protect him from the world. And God, it worries me a lot. But then I do know that I have to let him have his journey like I’m having mine. Let him live, do mistakes, fall, stand up again, perhaps get his heart broken,feel all the emotions in his heart and live with it. Such is life I guess.

Then amidst all the Corona chaos, several family members got affected. Not the first time when Mombasa was allegedly a hotspot for the virus. During that period almost none of the Mombasa residents knew anyone who’d been affected. It is now that we are seeing people dying right, left and center, and everyday, more people are succumbing to the virus. And you know, with these things, even when you are taking precautions with the virus, you never really realize how bad it is until it hits directly home.

One of my favourite humans died then. Just three days after he informed us that he was ill, he was gone. At first I seemed okay. I cried as any bereaved would but I was mostly okay. I talked to my friends about his death. I prayed for him. I remembered him. But grief for me, comes like a trickle of blood. Thick, heavy and very slow. A week after his death, we were remniscing about good memories of him, and we laughed and smiled and joked about him. Then that night, it all came down with a thud. Curling up in bed, I cried and cried and cried. I couldn’t stop. I was trying really hard to suppress my weeping so no one would hear me. But it was too much. I was crumbling and I felt like I was falling apart. I desperately needed someone to hold me. To just hug me tight. To hold my pieces together. So I went to my mother and cried to her. She and my elder sister talked to me for a while before my mother led me to her bed to sleep with her. For hours, she held me in her arms, patting my hair, encouraging me to sleep yet all my eyes could do was wander around the room. I had lost someone so important to me. We all did. But no one prepares you for such a sudden death.

A day before he died, he called me, and funny enough, he was the one asking me how I was. It was such a short conversation. He seemed to be struggling to talk, so I made a dua for him and that was it. I wish I had told him I loved him. I think he knew, but I wished I had said it. I can barely even remember the last time seeing him or what we talked about that time when he was healthy. But I have all these many memories of his inspirational advice, his oozing, extremely sweet kindness, his laughter, oh his laughter! When I was a teenager, he would do this loud, funky laughter that I just found to be too hilarious so sometimes I would try to imitate it and my family would burst into laughter too. He had this good sense of humour that I will forever miss, his magical, mind-blowing, creative ideas, his beautiful smile, his many many jokes, his pride of me-and us all-I can still see him in front of me. His voice still rings in my head. More than once I have dreamt of him and sometimes,thoughts of him keep me awake at night. Out of blue, I’d notice tears coming down my cheeks, so randomly, so easily, I can literally feel the emptiness in my heart.

Just two years ago, it used to be the four of us around the small dining. There were two phenomenal women; the storyteller, the heart of the family and several times, whenever he was free, he would join us too; the tree lover. I was there frequently; in between meetings, waiting for someone, resting before going for another errand, a place to pray, or eat, sometimes with my friends…I got too comfortable I even started taking naps in the bedroom when I was tired. It felt like home. Sometimes I was there as early as for breakfast meal or brunch or lunch, on lazy afternoons, sometimes even dinner. 2018, the story teller left us. Then last year, the heart did. This year it was him. And now, whenever I think of that table, my heart sinks. Their faces still so vivid in my memory, and our conversations, moments, jokes, the meals we shared, still so fresh. There are people who die and we mourn them and we move on, and there are people who leave this earth and the world shifts a bit. It will never be the same. Never.

My favourite human was very passionate about trees. He was extra-ordinary and phenomenal and no words could ever suffice to describe him. I pray that his grave is a garden from the most beautiful gardens of Jannah, with trees and flowers so beautiful he has never seen, and that we get to meet again, the four of us, and all our loved ones in a bigger table, with more laughter, zero worries and absolute bliss. Ameen.

I won’t curse the year. After all, whatever Allah wills for us is the best for us. This year has been life-changing for me and so many of us. I pray for ease, patience and better days for us all. Ameen.

Please do take care of yourself. You have the information on Corona please act responsibly. As the prophet said: ‘Tie your camel then pray to Allah’ So do the necessary to protect yourself and your families. I met a friend who told me they buried four people from their family and friends within a week and on the day we talked, there was one more, all Corona deaths. Doctors keep sharing even worse news on Twitter that they have run out of beds and there are many Corona patients walking around. Please take care. May Allah protect us all. Ameen.

P.S: Please do remember to make a dua for my person. Thank you 🙂


As you might have realized, I haven’t written in a long while. I have probably lost my ‘mojo’ but please bear with me.

Thank you for taking the time with my blog. I appreciate it 🙂