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Creative Non-Fiction


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Creative Non-Fiction

EDUCATION: BY LUCK OR BY CHOICE?

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Photo Courtesy: education.ucsc.edu

By: Jamila El-Jabry

In life we are given the same choices like everyone else, nobody is given special resources maybe some people have more options to acquire more choices but mostly the resources for the choices are the same for everyone.
How we go about using the resources is up to us, of course the most open and widely available resource is education. Everyone is given the same option to go to school—well most people do. All students sit in one class and have that one teacher teach everyone equally. But it depends on the certain student what they learn from. Some don’t understand, some interpret differently than others, and some just don’t care. So at the end of the day is it circumstances that make each student gain or not gain from the teacher or is it each individual students choice to gain or not?

Should each student blame society when they can’t understand the teacher? Or should they blame themselves for not making the effort to learn. Most students end up saying “bongo langu halishiki” meaning I can’t seem to grasp the materials taught.

So today with all these people who have bachelors, master and PhD’s and some who have a diploma and certificates in their names, is it circumstances have led them to that or is it a choice? Or the people who have no education or limited education is it the same for them as circumstances have led them there where they are or is choices they chose?

#Food For Thought

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Creative Non-Fiction

I’M NOT A COWARD TO SO DO

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Photo Courtesy: www.ayeina.com

Poem By: Salsabillah Abdulhalim

I glance about but nobody’s around
I look at my knife, a threat to my life
but I gotta go cause time bids me so
what should I do i’m not a coward to so do.

I hold on to life and drop the knife
blood splutters bright enough to show the light
realization dawns while the heart stones
what should i do i’m not a coward to so do

Sympathizers would bluff while enemies would laugh
the cause of my deed will not bear seed
I might have gone but problems unsolved are not yet gone
so what should I do i’m not a coward to so do.

I stagger to my destination after a long duration
snatch my kit and wrap the cut bit
I gotta fight back or it will always be dark
so what should I do i’m not a coward to so do.

A glass of milk before I get sick
I gotta be strong to fight along
I gotta climb the ladder as i’m under radar
so what should I do i’m not a coward to so do.

After the long drive should I arrive
I would look behind to see the enemy’s teeth grind
I would still give them a hand to bring them on ground
cause i’m not a coward; suicide to again do.

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Creative Non-Fiction

EMBARRASSING MOMENTS; JUST FOR LAUGHS

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So we definitely have those embarrassing moments that we wished that the earth swallowed us immediately or at least have Harry Potter’s magic cloak so as to disappear from being seen in such a situation. Those moments we waved back at a person waving to the person behind us or when we had an awkward fall in front of other people. This is just for fun; enjoy the read and I would definitely appreciate if you comment yours after reading this article. Let the ball keep rolling. Let’s give people something to smile about today 🙂

Starting with my own; I once took my pregnant sister to the hospital for check up. So there was a queue and the nurse stood at the door calling out names. My sis was called in and she left me at the bench with the rest of pregnant women. The nurse looked at me and asked with raised eyebrows, ‘are you pregnant?’
‘Noo!!’
‘Do you want to be pregnant?’
All the women started laughing and don’t even ask me how fast i left the bench. I was turning purple?

Also, In high school, my best friend and I once wanted to use the computer lab. And since it is sheikh khalifa, we decided that we should confirm first that there is no a boys class inside. To avoid embarrassments, we decided to peep at the key hole rather than open the door and check inside. As i was peeping at key hole the then deputy principal caught us in action. Worse still, he knew my name. So he called out my name in shock and then all he said was ‘good girls don’t peep through key holes’ ? I was more than tongue tied. What convincing justification can you give in such an instance?
###

When I was in class 7…we had Arabic exam in school(integrated school-abuhureira), we made a habit of cheating for the Arabic/religious part because we had a lot of subjects to study for(about 12+the other five secular subjects) and even the secular part sometimes(though generally the secular subjects were less than the other ones and were easier). This wasn’t just one person habit, it was quite popular among students to cheat on those exams, but what made us different was who would come up with a perfect cheating plan and never get caught. Some would go in with papers books etc, they would get caught and one or two will be lucky and never get caught. In the first term exam,my strategically cheating buddies were put in a different class coz our class grew to be big and we had to be divided, so I was alone in a different class where most of my classmates weren’t*** so good in the madrasa part. Immediately I had to come up with a plan which didn’t include going in with Arabic book/madrasa book or paper coz that was tried before and it would be a cliche if I did the same and would most probably end up caught coz the teachers why on high alert for those kind of cheating methods, I needed a better plan which wasn’t tried before(more like cheating in plain sight and no need for hiding anything ) so I decided to write the Arabic stuffs in English eg.( اكتب-uktub) in a normal book, then during the exam put this book in between the exam paper and the desk (coz the papers used to be so thin and the desks were a bit rough plus the teachers were usually okey with that as long as it wasn’t that subjects book-or anything with Arabic for that matter). I spent the whole night writing pages and pages. During the exam I went in and did according to my plan and sat confidently for the paper, then unluckily instead of our usual Arabic teachers(whom by the way I knew that most of them were mostly into Arabic stuffs and don’t really give much attention to English/alphabet written stuffs) didn’t come to supervise us, but instead the IRE teacher came( as we know IRE teachers do both English and Arabic). I tried not to panic and went on with my plan coz I had no backup plan. After a while, The teacher got suspicious of me and he came to my desk, he checked the book and saw the alphabet written stuffs then he moved on, after a while he came back took the book and read it, he started laughing out loud and took me to the office. He embarrassed me infront of all the teachers by telling them that during all his teaching career, he never met anyone who could beat my cheating game. Even years after that, every class he teaches during the exams, he’ll tell the students not to attempt cheating unless they can up my game.

Also I was in primary school and we were watching the Kiswahili news in KTN…my Kiswahili was quite terrible at that time coz I was never brought up in Kiswahili speaking environment (it improved a lot when I joined Sh.khalifa), so in the news there were two women who were fighting over a man, my whole family was there watching and laughing, then my aunt asked whose husband he actually was among the two women fighting for him…then I answered so fast thinking that I knew the answer saying “you didn’t hear the reporter say-mwenye nguvu ndio mwenye bwana”…everybody started laughing and they couldn’t stop for about 5min. I had no idea what made them laugh coz I just answered a question,then my sister finally told me that the report said “mwenye nguvu mpishe” and never said “mwenye nguvu ndio mwenye bwana”
#Anonymous

It was 2009 and i was new in facebook and no one gave me 101 on facebook, my Ex high school friends and I were having a great time sharing jokes in one of his status update, A girl( from the same school as i was) asked one of my friends who is this Ahmed?, I didnt wanted my friend to disclose my identity because i blieved it was haraam to have non-mahram friends from the opposite gender, ‘ plz dont tell her my identity, you know my policy on girls’ i wrote that as a comment, In my head i thought just like email and migg33 ( in those days) no one except my friend will see my comment, I nearly had heart attack when she replied to my comment saying ‘ no one want you kijana sort yourself out’. After that i nearly quit facebook out of embarassment.

Another; an ex classmate of mine created a whatsapp group for abuhureira academy class of 2008. I never thought he will invite me in a mix group( boys and girls) because he knew my policy on such issues, for a day or two all those who took part in the chat were boys only, others knew so they asked me all sorts of question about marriage,age and all nonesense that boys speak when they think no female is listening, i asked a bajuni friend of mine if he got a somali girl for himself( knowing well that he liked them)? He told me mahar yao ni dollar and its rate( dollor rate against shilling was high) is volatile nowadays, I told him that somali men are to blame because they play with women, girls demand lots of dollars not because they want the money but just as an insuarance policy( life insuarance policy against divource). Then what happend next nearly gave my second heart attack, A girl started responding to my chats and she gave me a piece of her mind because she was offended by comparing mahar to insuarance policy.
#Ahmed Garissa, Abuhureira class of 2008.

Most of my embarassing moments are too embarassing to fall on public ears…but in the spirit of this i’ll give a light one,,once i was from the supermarket,i had a huge nakumatt bag..and was currently feelng that after-shopping glow….just outside the supermarket entrance,,i saw an old woman with a headscarf on,,,,who i figured was destitute..she had a lesso on the floor..i moved towards the old lady,put on my charity gloves..and took out some money,,i didn’t care to hand her the money thou….i dropped it on the lesso and immediately turned away,feeln good abwt maself…i heard the mama call me back…i turned back thinkng to maself ”here come the thankkyou’s”…”very unnecessary but if she does i’ll give her more.”..she threw a tantrum..got really pissed and asked me to take my money,,saying she was only waiting for her daughter to leave the supermarket….and that niko na madharau sana,,,,she kept on talking as i left clearly having lost that after-shopping glow…and feelng very embarassed..
#Jama Abby

I Was in class five when a christian guy called emanuel told the whole class that he had a dream we got married
Felt so embarrassed and i started crying?
#Nasrin

So it was in class 7, coast star academy and at asr tym, usually when its prayer time all the boys washika udhu n then go kule up kabisa where thrz the assembly hall then tandika a mat n pray. Hapo i wasn’t religious much…we were just from Nai the year before. Westayed there since nkiwa 3 then moved to Msa for class 6 mpka uko mwsho n i was still adjusting.
So its prayer tym n i’v always wantd to lead the jama3ah; see hw it feels to swalisha pple
. imajin u swalisha pple frm class 4 n wengine ata seniors.
So mtu akakimu, all my frnds are in the jama3ah… nkaanzisha swala freeeshy… then now loudly i started reciting alhamdu… with the beautifullest voice i can ???Apo ndo subhanAllah zlianza. I didn’t know what it meant n I’d never realized tht swalah za daytym watu hawaswalishi wyl recitin loudly.so the more the subhanAllah ikua zasemwa, the louder i recited..nkifkiry ni appraisal vle nasoma vzury…. we mwenywe ungeskia raha…n imajin its a hall…its echoin all over…mpka wakagive up… did the 1st rakaa…2nd..3rd…4th nkafinish…nkicheck nyuma thrz lyk swafu nne tht nnaswalisha…pple r gigglin n smilin at me
What’s evn worse kuliingia tchrs wakasmama kule nyuma kabisa wangoja tumalize they needed the hall kuna meeting wataka kufanya… afu sasa our IRE tchr alkua nao … she jst smiled n the othrz ambao ikua si waislamu wer amazed… cjui walijua ama vp…
Nkirudi class hzo ndo zilkua news… evrybody was told… tht kept hauntin me mpka nkamaliza tht school ?????
#Arafat Abdulrehman

After preps was soo tired so i ddnt wait for jama3a insted i prayd in my room.. so that i culd sleep afterwards.. lol mara nkaskia matron amekaa pale kwa table acheki watu wakiswali coz kuna signing after swalah.. ikanbidii njitokezee hapo prayer room.. but i ws so stupid insted of like pretending praaayin wit the othrz.. nkaenda tu pale nyuma ya saf nimeketi chini even without wearing my nguo za kuswalia.. so pale watu wanasujood ndo ws caught red handed.. hapo ndo matron akaniona live nlikuwa si swali.. wit hair open sjielewa ati naswali huku miguu zaonekana.. lol t ws embarrassing. . Bt i explained to her mara the next day akansema kwa ms malika?
#Swabrin Timimy

It was the biology class. I smiled at my deskmate form 2 we were talking about something. Then all of a sudden she told me to share the Hehe i coudnt so she got angry and tod me to go out and sit facing the mosque alafu boys waenda mosque.Gosh was soo embarassed. Kuneel down kwa staffroom afu maboys wamwita bro wangu. story infika mpaka kwa mamangu. ?
#Khalila Ali

I was in class 6 in Arya Samaj when I jokingly told my male class mate ‘wewe ntakupiga sasa hivi’in a loud voice..Kumbe sir alikuwa hapo nje kwa dirisha akaniskia..He just came in akaniambia ‘haya mpige basi’..I felt so embarrassed. I was in class 5..During an English lesson,sir asked if anyone of us had been inside the parliament..And I being kimbelembele,I raised my hand..I was so sure I was right..So my classmate later asked me if I really had been there..And being so sure,I said ‘Yes,’and I described how it was..Little did I know that my description was that of an ‘elevator’ instead of a ‘parliament!’She told me ‘but that is a lift!’I felt so stupid
#Anonymous

Mine goes lyk ths,we were in the DH#dining hall waiting for food Sa chakula kinchelewa I decided to peep thru the hole ya mlango Sa ushapata ile design ya kuchungulia while leaning on the door Mara the door was opened n I almost samasaulted yani it was soo embarrasing cz the boys were there waiting to be served since tht day nlikoma kupiga chabo?
#Zeinab Said

Oh boy, most of my embarassing moments came when I was still a kid, I became more careful as I grew up. One particular moment I can’t possibly forget, i was about nine and me and my buddies were having a game of football in the local ground. Then this group of teenage girls passed by apparently to go play their own match elsewhere. So the game was momentarily disrupted and , well boys will be boys, we started whistling and cat-calling until they passed. Later that evening they came back, seemingly having lost their game, because they looked really intense. So when we repeated the earlier ritual, this time they weren’t so amused. We wounded their pride and we paid the price for it…they started chasing us throughout the neighbourhood intent on breaking our bones or sth of the sort. I ran for seemingly forever, this extremely athletic girl chasing me, and not in the context I would have enjoyed, and I ran while seriously fearing for my life. When I finally evaded her grasp, I found myself inside someone’s home garden, panting like a dog. The owner comes out asking me what’s going on and in between pants I tell him ‘eh kuna jambazi…ana panga…afukuza watu’

I learned my lesson well that day..
#Imran Abdallah

My embarasing moment wud be to stand in the buses early morning na wavllana mutasema mwaenda prison just imagine kisha ammi apige break mara mwagongana lol.
#Aisha Sunkar

When we were in class 7 it was sooooo hard. The unbearable year ile yenye maisha ikikushinda waeza drop uolewe. So it was Maths and we did the mid term exam ikawa twafaa kusubmit workings na answers separately na answer sheet ya ABCD separately. So me na ujuaji wangu wote nkapata 28% and Imran goes ahead and knocks us of by getting a 96/8%. So ever since, our class teacher akawa atupa assignment ya kufanya paper moja in 2 days like write down the question and workings alafu she collects the books. So this one time I didn’t finish answering…actually it was the whole class except this one girl Caroline. Our class teacher akatutoa kwa corridor during break time tukneel with hands up and mouths wide open…so kila mtu akitoka atuona tuko kwa corridor. This other teacher akawa atoka class six ya boys na biscuit na vile midomo zetu ziko wazi akanitia biscuit mdomoni. Well you can’t blame me for chewing it. All this time kumbe our class teacher atuchungulia kwa dirisha ya staffroom…nlirandwa hapo hapo mikono juu mdomo wazi. You can imagine the scene with boys all over. Shame on her for ripping of my self esteem and dignity in front of all those boys!!! Update….tulilalamika ikawa hakuna tena punishments except writing down lines kwa full scaps….
#Husna Lali

Which one to start.lol.. they are soo many.. Miss Ferouz busting saumu while she was making my hair in the Khamso room.. she made me walk to class carrying my brush and hair oil with my hair open.. Another one.. a form one boy asking me out a few days ago… like for real.. Am old enough to be your mama kiddo..
#Lalbiby Mansoor

That would probably be the day i had a crush on a certain girl in primary school & decided to write a love letter. of course the worst case scenario happened & within an hour the whole school knew word for word what i had written.
#Ahmed Shayo

This one time in high school, I got a 4 days suspension because I was “an accessory to a crime”…school crime people…not the government. My mum takes me back to school on the day I was supposed to be returning and we obviously had to face the then deputy principal-Ms.Feiruz alongside my class teacher Ms. Fatma. Ms. Fatma is all on my side favoring me and what not and then when we’re almost through she said ” You should stop being cheeky, you’re a senior now..” And she turns to my mum like ‘mwanzo huyu kukinyesha haji school alafu asema kwao hakupitiki kuna maji mengi. I told her to go tell her mother to build her a boat and she came back the next day saying “my mum said ‘seremala wetu ankufa'”. And that’s when the never ending string of words from mum begin. Ms.Feiruz is all like “we’ve had other Lali’s before…you’re not like any one of them”
Darn woman….really???
P.S….my mom did say to tell her our carpenter died…the truancy part…blame it on being tired and the excuse..I was being creative, excuse you
#Husna Lali

Once, I was going back to the dorm after asr prayers. I reached street 11 and there was this huge cow blocking the way. So I decided to give it a wide berth, but the thing just lowered its horns at me and advanced threateningly whenever I took a step towards it. So I’d then take a step back. The whole school was watching (and laughing of course), though the girls were more frightened by the prospect of me being skewered. Needless to say, it was really embarrassing.
#Arif, class of 2013

My embarrassing moments are just the random ones. Like thinking your parents are asleep so you go to the washroom without looking the door then suddenly your dad comes and he wants to open the door then quickly you hold the door so that it doesn’t open. Then afterwards he starts yelling at why I don’t lock the door. Or maybe a kiss scene comes in a movie we are all watching and the remote isn’t working so everyone just pretends staring at space while mum complains how English men have misled people.
#Anonymous

It was on a normal school day with no surprises of the day.Classes were ongoing as usual and we had just completed our first class.I stood infront of the class and strarted mimicing my history teacher as I was the only talented in it.No sooner had I started mimicing him when he entered the class.I was so shocked and didnt know what to do.I looked at him as he looked at me and I just felt embaraassed and looked away hehe…While I was still standing confused and shaken,the teacher ordered me out of class and explain my actions to the Principal.I knew it was the end of me and decided not to go out of class.From a far I saw the Principal coming towards our class and I decided to obey the teacher and vanished never to be seen.I showed myself after the lesson and I was summoned by class teacher.I stood there not knowing what to do and how to answer the questions directed to me. Nlikuwa heavily punished ofcourse; slashing about 10×5 square metres of grass plus 5 hot strokes of cane ……..Until now I still bear the guilt n embarassment in me imagin hehe….wat if i was the teacher…

Another; It was on lunch time and we were scrambling for food at the canteen.Buying food was difficult due to over congestion of students.At last I managed to get some chips and I was relieved.Before I could move away I heard a voice “kijana kuja hapa”.I recognised that voice and I looked behind. The teacher was referring to me and I realized I had not tacked my shirt.He took my chips and told me to follow him to the staffroom.On entering the staffroom I pleaded with him to forgive me but he just kept looking at me.Before I could even notice a slasher was already in my hands.To make matters worse he instructed a junior prefect to monitor me while slashing.I had no escape route than to oblige instead of a getting a suspension and till today I remember where did he take my food hehe….
#Gharama Ni Gharama

My desk mate and I were once caught by the then deputy principal laughing in class. She decided to take us with her to her office and it was obvious it wasn’t going to be a good day. As she walked in front of us to her office, a boy’s class was going to the library. And some of them knew us and definitely understood we were going for a punishment. They started laughing at us and it was really embarrassing.
#Hajra Taher

After years of “romeo n julieting ” one week after we finish school, the nosey librarian finds a romantic note from one Butterfly to her flower, the contents of the lettr, you don’t want to imagn? so she takes the lettr to Ms.Fatma (class teacher) and it becomes the topic of the day in females staff room, Ms. fatma calls Butterfly’s mum “mwambie Butterfly aangalie maisha yake, wanaume hawana mana… Blah blah blah…. Nevr been this embarrassed, My mum is out of words, little did she know behind this innocent face lied a DREAMER who all she saw was loooveee ?
The same week Butterfly is supposed to go to school to clear, imagn the looks on the female teachers??, too shy and embarrassed, butterfly holds her head high and goes to xul, on entering the staff room you could sense the “wambeas” showing each other “it’s her” and talking with their eyes, after the signatures she received a hell of a lecture from Ms.Fatma, luckily ms.feiruz (the then deputy principal) wasn’t around, rumor had it that she was eagerly waitng to meet Butterfly ???
#Butterfly

Now that you had your laugh, may you have an embarrassing day too ???

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Coast & Culture

RESULTS CELEBRATIONS; THE KHALIFAN WAY

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Video Courtesy: Hannan Barre

Special Dedication: Class of ‘011, 4Vee

Checking out this video, I smell nostalgia, can you feel it too? Khalifans’ style of celebrating has always been entertaining, thrilling, amusing yet still amazing! In fact the earlier years’ celebrations were even merrier. It used to be just a crazy scenario; girls shouting at the top of their voices, jumping up and down, singing all kind of songs including nursery rhymes like ‘ukuti ukuti wa mnazi wa mnazi’, ‘masomo bila mahewa haidandii bila mahewa’, ‘wako wapi mahasidi waione khalifa kiboko yao’ and some other song going like ‘santiago chile’ that I can no longer even remember, amongst other crazy songs being sang at the top of their voices 😀 But I must say; I definitely used to enjoy every moment of it especially being more of the observer. It always got me all emotional; finding my way through the crowd to hug the friends who performed.

It’s both hilarious and exciting even remembering all this now. Like in form one, our class was the one with windows directly facing the gate and the fish pond. As the candidates who had received their results were storming in the next class (which was form four V) were now all screams and dances. Being new, we didn’t understand what was going on until the other classes came out including the boys too. Mr Yunus (for the old Khalifans, you know him) was in class then and he was teaching us how to read the log books. Apparently we needed to be so attentive to understand that but we were all so curious; looking out of the windows and getting excited to join the chaotic celebrations. It was not his best day because with our agitation, we made him almost throw a chair at us. To make it worse, a form four girl fell into the huge dustbin right outside our class in the process of jumping. We were all laughing and it being a math class, of course we’d do anything to go out. And yes, we did succeed in that and poor, humble Mr Yunus had to leave the class 😀 And that is how we were introduced to the Khalifan jovial style of celebrating…yet amusingly, during all this chaos, the smart and bright students used to stay in class with the claim, ‘we don’t want to waste time’ lool. However when the noise used to escalate they’d come out and peep ‘what’s going on?’. But let’s get real, how does anyone read let alone write notes in such excitement? Not unless you are in form four…where that fear creeps in, ‘I could be out there screaming like the rest but what happens next year when I don’t perform and people will only remember me as a cheerleader and not a performer?’
Then comes the resolution, ‘Let me make use of this time now so that next year, they can also celebrate my performance too’ which is quite okay 😀 Other than that, I hope the bookworms have learnt that all work without play makes Jack a dull boy 😀

I remember another incident, a time like this during the results season, we were in our Chemistry class and our teacher was busy scribbling moles on the board when the noise started from other classes and we knew; it’s time for celebration! We always knew the noise symbolized yet another victory and as they say, ‘it’s party time!’ So whenever the noise escalated outside, we would all start making choruses of ‘siiirrrrr…let us gooo!’ If someone heard us, they would think our adrenaline was being poked. The rhythmic rise and fall of the noise always went on for a while; when the cheers escalated we would thump on the desks like crazy gorillas demanding for food and when it subsided we would keep quiet too. If you are from Sheikh Khalifa then you probably know Mr Ngao, and the glare he can give you. Whenever our voices went up, he would turn from the board and glare at us with his head lowered and his eyes raised, We would immediately shush up and continue scribbling our notes. When he realized we were getting out of control, he once again turned from the board, smiled in a way to show he has surrendered and finally, walked out of the class. It was times like these that you’d just stare and say ‘oh boy, people do have energy I tell you!’

The boys too wouldn’t be left behind. They would demand to go out of the gates while some would decide not to wait for the gates to be opened and just jump over. Meanwhile other boys would push their friends in the fish pond and apparently this is the only day you can do that and not be punished for it; the only day all hell breaks loose and students get away with it 😀 Everyone would scramble into the buses as each individual wanted to be part of the screaming and singing of ‘paka shume huyooo’ to Allidina and Aga Khan students on the roads lol.

Looking back at all these memories I really miss those days especially coming from a class that had quite extraordinary cheerleaders. And then even as I was watching all this happening I kept saying to myself, ‘why not?’ Our efforts and our duas, Our dedication and hard work does deserve all this joy and merry. Why not show the world how Muslim brains can work? How lady jilbabies are not any less intelligent to challenge the world? How being principled and disciplined is the only way to success? And this is what my high school has proved to the world since time immemorial; this is precisely why I am proud being a product of such an institution. And yes! yesterday, we did it once again! Alhamdulilah we had the best results ever from Sheikh Khalifa with:

A 27
A- 85
B+ 38
B 18
B- 8
C+ 2
C 1

Once again we have been able to outshine others alhamdulilah and all we can say to all our haters out there who are dying to know what our secret has always been, then here it is: ‘Allah is always with us,’ and that it is this firm faith in Allah that makes us at the top of the map always.

Congratulations to all those who got their results yesterday and hey, welcome to the adult world! May God easen it for you out there and get you to your goals in shaa Allah 🙂

Finally, I guess you came up with the same conclusion as mine: We are definitely the best, not only in results, in celebrating too!! 😀

#Proudly Khalifan 🙂

P.S. If you like my art then please vote for me at blogawards.co.ke/vote at creative writing category..and don’t forget to ‘submit’at the end of the page please ?
Thanks in advance ?

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Creative Non-Fiction

HEROISM VS NARCISSISM

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Photo Courtesy: Mc’Lopez

In a world where everyone believes they are a star, a legend and a hero, be rational enough to yourself. Accept yourself as you are; without exaggerating your own existence. Yes, you ARE special. Always remember that…but never forget that you are not any more special than anyone else. Don’t raise your nose and walk with arrogance, believing you are thee best; like no one is better than you.

Taking a hundred selfies, getting 200 or 1000 likes, having the most followers on snapchat and instagram does not define your self worth. Neither do these photos portray self love.

You only become a legend by creating a difference, by leaving footsteps in other people’s lives; by being yourself. Do not be a slave of society love and fame because if that’s what matters to you, do know your time of fame is quickly running out and someone else will soon be ‘thee new star’. For all that I’ve ever known, no star ever labeled themselves that name. They were recognized for their impact and their achievements and not by their show off. So don’t get ahead of yourself. If you believe you are a genius, then do know you are not the first one to exist nor will you be the last. The same thing with anything else that you are good at; be it sports, talent, academics…you name it!

Many people confuse egocentrism and narcissism as self love. And as much as the current world encourages people to love themselves, the whole idea of it shouldn’t get to your head. There lived so many legends who were not appreciated until their death while there lived people with immoral ideas yet they have been made our idols.

Times are quickly changing and most of us have been enchanted by what we see on social media; people sharing their naked photos, egoistic posts and underrating of everyone else in the name of self love. And sadly enough, we are made to believe that it is very okay to be narcissistic and to consider everyone below us. So whilst the villain also considers himself a hero in his own mind, be brave enough to balance your self esteem and self love without letting your ego take over your thoughts.

My idea of heroism has always been the same as what Ellen Goodman said: “I have never been especially impressed by the heroics of people convinced they are about to change the world. I am more awed by those who struggle to make one small difference.”

Always remember that what you do; the smallest bits of kindness and humbleness that you give to the world is what makes you rather extra-ordinary. So even when the whole world thinks you are a nobody, do know that for someone out there, you are their biggest hope and their light at the end of the tunnel.

I’ll end this by this remarkable quote that very clearly draws the picture and summarizes this whole article in a few words:
“True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” – Arthur Ashe

Keep leaving footsteps wherever you go!

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TWO INCHES OF AN EGO

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Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

Standing tall
A bold soul
he makes the fake call
and talks the random talk.
Head held high
his nose pointing to the sky
his face sparks with sarcasm
and his laughter;
another word for enthusiasm.
He walks with a bounce
his hands in his pockets
and his hair combed in spikes
He waits for no man
speaks with great command
and he only, can make the demand.
Is he egocentric
or perhaps a bit too eccentric??
He smiles with a smirk
and his tone is always a remark.
He is just an intense mystery
making a profound history.
An obscure being
or perhaps,,
just perhaps…
all he’s got is
Two inches of an ego.

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THE FAULTS IN OUR COMMUNICATION

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Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

Every word, every sound you make has great weight more than you can perceive. It’s like they have gravity in the air and a slip of the tongue could cost you your life. It is precisely why I don’t believe in ‘We are friends, remember? No please. No thank you. No sorry.’ In fact being a friend should give you more reason to say thank you, sorry and please. For I very well know the importance of these words. I know the impact they can make in another’s life. I know what it means like to be appreciated, being empathized or given your due respect. And most of all, I know what it feels like to know you are loved.

Unfortunately, this is where most of us go wrong. The assumptions we keep making about our loved ones, ‘ah, my mother loves me so much she will eventually forgive me’ or ‘He is my best friend, he won’t mind if I took this from him. I will inform him later.’ But these are the same kind of things that end up breaking people apart. The idea that someone will just understand you even without explaining yourself. It may be true; some people may understand your unsaid words, but have you ever thought of their unsaid words? That maybe your best friend didn’t really like it when you took his money without requesting for it? That maybe he just can’t face you and tell you that he needed it for something else? Or the fact that your mother was so deeply alarmed by your words yet you just assumed she will forgive you? Have you ever considered what it feels for her to forgive you even without you apologizing? As much as you may think that nothing may really go wrong when you are free with someone, do keep in mind that there is something called ‘long term frustrations.’ The more you take someone else’s emotions for granted, the more the pain builds up in them. However little the pain may be, it slowly keeps growing, whether it is in days, months or even years but it keeps building up and in the end comes that big fight that messes up everything created in years. It is in such situations that you may hear of two best friends or very close friends, or even family members who just stopped communicating for mysterious reasons. This is why; the fault in our communication.

I really admire people who speak out exactly what they feel about the second party; in fact I don’t mind being confronted with the truth someone has to say to me so long as they do it in a matured manner. This is because I really value my relationships with everyone and I would do anything to ensure they are only getting better. I’ve heard dear people call me names and such, but as much as I hurt I never hate them for what they say to me and about me. They are just showing me, the ME from their point of view and it is totally okay if their point of view is negative because you can’t really please everyone in the world. Nonetheless, they make me scrutinize myself more and want to rectify myself where necessary so that my relationship with them only gets better.

However, we have those who can’t really open up and it is upon you to think and feel for them. Put yourself in their shoes and imagine how it would be for you in such and such a situation. You don’t really have to be overly empathetic to understand anyone, you just need to act like a human being who has a soul. So without being reminded, remember to use the simple words like ‘please, sorry and thank you.’ Remember to think of other people’s emotions before yourself but yet still; without forgetting yourself entirely. Always remember to communicate!

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WHEN SAYING GOODBYE IS NOT AN OPTION

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Photo Courtesy: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/

Five young deaths just between December to February. Five young souls that had so many dreams of the future. Five young souls lost in a split of a second. Five young souls that were gone without goodbye… and that is just for the people I know. Probably thousands or even millions other very young souls have left the world since then. The more i hear these news, the more I dread checking the social media because I fear hearing of one more; gone. Been quite a shock on the death of Sajid Al beity; a brilliant young man and Aziz Bashir yesterday. I’m not even over the death of Ahmed Darwesh yet. Sometimes I turn on the TV and still wait to hear his happy voice and charming smile delivering the news. It almost sounds unreal, like a nightmare and soon everything will be back to normal with all these young people happily rejoicing life amongst their loved ones. Yet who are we to question God’s plans and wisdom? This is just but a journey and all of us will finally go to the same destination; our graves.

 

I’ve always been obsessive, possesive, all these crazy words; you name it. I have struggled to keep my ties with everyone intact. I have always been like the hopeless romantic who can never fathom or accept the idea of anyone; family, friends, workmates, colleagues, any person who in any way impacted my life…anyone, leaving their life. My friends keep telling me not to get too attached because you will always end up hurt but my ideology has always been different. I know the consequences of holding onto people. The end of it is usually terrible especially when there is no goodbye. But one thing I am glad of despite everything is that I am acting the way a human being should be. I am glad I have a soul that has emotions when so many people around act heartless. I keep saying all the time, LIFE IS TOO SHORT and my friends think i’m just being hysterical with the saying ‘stop talking like you are about to die’ but yes, I am about to die. All of us are at the verge of dying we just dont know when. Probably it’s this thought stuck in my mind that makes me seek people in my life who keep disappearing. And sometimes it’s almost like hide and seek. We talk then suddenly they disappear and i’d go down the earth like a crazy maniac to find out where they are. And it keeps going like that over and over again. But if anything, I am glad I am the way I am because I have no regrets whatsoever with how i dealt with anyone. I know I tried my very best to keep all my relationships with people in my life to be straight and I tried my best to never cut off anyone yet those who decided to leave despite my continuous trials, I rest my case. Apart from that, any mistakes are out of my human self of which I hope i’d be forgiven for by God’s will.

 

All this makes me think a lot; is it that I am abnormal or is it that people don’t have a subconscious mind? How is someone able to go days, months, years not talking to someone just because of something that can be resolved? How are people so okay with crossing roads and passing by someone you were once so close to like you are total strangers? How does your ego let you sleep so comfortably when you know you are the reason someone is suffering out there? How do you afford to be happy with yourself when you are sooo not ready to face God?? Why do we wait until someone is gone is when we value them and scrutinize what they said to us more than before? Why do we wait to say, ‘I wish he/she knew how much I valued them??

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There comes a time when saying goodbye is not an option and this scares me like nothing else. There comes a time when saying I am sorry, or I love you or this is how much I care for you to your mum or dad or spouse, your friends or maybe your siblings; is impossible. The thought that people don’t think of unsaid goodbyes bugs me so so much; I wish I understood how people are so comfortable with their lives forgetting that there is something called; sudden death? It makes me want to scream on people’s faces so that they can wake up. So that they can look at the world from this point of view that I see it; so that they can finally realize that when their time finally comes they will never have one more minute. But I know screaming at anyone never made any difference yet I still hope everyone dies while they are happy that they lived well, that they have nothing to regret about.

 

We were all sad when Ahmed Darwesh passed on and the even younger Sajid…and all the other young souls that died so unexpectedly but do we really learn the lesson? Do we learn from what God is trying to make us understand here? That our lives are too short and at anytime we could go too?? Do we just think about it for the few days after they die then go back to our reckless lives after that?? Whoa! I wish I could share my fear with some other people maybe somehow that will make them value life more. Maybe it will make them realize how we are just going back to sand at the end of it all. I have no words anymore; maybe just hope that God grants us death only when we are ready to face Him and for the ones who left already, May God grant them His jannah. Ameen.

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THE FIRST HERO IN OUR LIVES

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Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

Have you ever looked at your old man’s face?Your dad? Have you keenly looked at the grey hair on his head? Have you speculated his smile? Have you tried to see the concern beyond his fury? Have you tried to see the sadness behind his silence? Have you looked keenly at his simple smile and humble laughter? Have you even bothered to think about his unsaid words and hidden emotions? You already forgot how much he sacrificed for your sake? You forget that you are the reason he wakes up each morning to go to work? You forget that you are the reason he still dreams, anticipates and waits?

Everyone talks about their mums; our greatest role models and the ones we look up to all our lives. Millions and millions of posts, articles and poems have been written for and about the mother. We talk of how she raised us and sacrificed a lot to ensure we are happy. But how do we forget the most important man in our lives? You think he didn’t want to buy that Subaru he sees and admires everyday at the net? You think he didn’t want to take a holiday and go with your mum to Dubai or probably Hawaii and enjoy their last few years in this life? You think that paying fees for you was his duty? What about if he just decided that secular education was not all that important and let you stay at home like other parents do? What about if he decided to just be selfish and seek his own personal dreams and desires? We usually tend to forget all this. We tend to take him for granted. We barely remember to get him a gift; the gifts have always been for mum isn’t it? Yet he still smiles when he sees you giving a gift to your mum. He still appreciates you even when he very well knows you love your mum more than him. Trust me, the smallest thought of him; the smallest gift you get him, he will appreciate ten times more than the worth of the small thing you brought him or even did to him. Gifts can be the things you do to him as well; the things he’d love see you do for him.

It’s true, a mother is irreplaceable and nothing can we ever do to repay her. But what of your dad who probably had to leave you all behind to seek a job in a far away place? You think it is easy for him being far from his wife and children? You think he doesn’t miss you all and that life simply moves on for him?

Please try to look at him deeply. Look at his expressions; how he moves, walks and talks. Try to understand him. Try to look beyond what he shows at the outer. Do remember to tell him that you love him every once in a while. Some would say it’s awkward saying it to dad especially how we are raised like we shouldn’t expose our emotions to the male figures in our society but remember that the prophet p.b.u.h very well showed love to his family members. And just like we expect parents to follow his example by showing love to their children, then let’s do the same to our parents as well. If saying it is difficult then show it; show it with your actions. Let him know you care about him, smile at him always and keep him close by you. Yes, you can always love your mum much more but don’t let him live unnoticed and unappreciated. Pray for him always and do the same with your mum. Make them proud. Love him as much as you can because there is only one dad you can ever have in your life. Never forget; he is the first hero in your life story.

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IN THE NOW THOUGH NOT FOREVER

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I actually had to borrow this title from my new friend made, Maryam, whose blog is by this same name ‘in the now though not forever’ http://nownotforever.blogspot.co.ke/ Please do find time to check her amazing art 🙂 Meanwhile, let us talk about what made me borrow this title particularly.

Just the other day, I dreamt of her. She was in a wheelchair and my mum was pushing it out of what seemed to be the hospital doors. I went to her and she gave me a very long hug. I looked at her and said, ‘I haven’t seen you in a very long while. It almost seemed that you were dead’ and she said, ‘No I’ve been okay.’ I don’t clearly remember the end of that dream all I know is that it was too vivid and seemed too real and I spent the entire next day thinking about her; mama two. I probably never really got over her death, maybe that is why I keep having this strange dream again and again where she is alive and I keep questioning her, ‘I thought you were dead’. The conversations in all the dreams have always been the same, the only difference is the venue of each dream. Sometimes I dream of her at home and sometimes at the hospital. I have never really understood dreams or whether mine do have a certain meaning or it is just the nostalgia of being with her once again…all I know is that, a part of me may never be recovered.

Just one day after this dream, is when Ahmed Darwesh, the popular yet humble journalist passed on. I haven’t understood till this moment why his death came as a big blow like a knew him personally. Probably it could be because he died still very young. But there is always wisdom behind God’s actions and maybe we were meant to learn from his example and be more alert on our actions because when death comes, it doesn’t choose on the basis of age. Just after his death, the following day, a close cousin to a friend passed on too. I also didn’t know this young man personally, but i had heard a lot of good things about him and it made me empathetic since he was still very young; probably with so many dreams of the future ahead. May Allah forgive their sins and place them in the highest level of jannah together with the prophets Biidhnillah.

I remember during one of our classes during a writing workshop by Kwani? one of our mentors told us of her story and how she feared death to a great extent. And that at one time during a trip in South Africa, they were asked to write their own eulogies; as a psychological way to deal with such fear. So she wrote about herself and how she has been through her lifetime; talking about herself like another party. And she said of how she cried writing those details and it felt so real; she was mourning her own ‘death’. But it was only after that exercise that she realized that she wanted to be remembered as a writer; for the books she has written. She wasn’t even a writer by then but that exercise made her realize what she really wanted and she ventured into writing more deeply and she is now a very successful writer mashaLlah. Respect to my mentor; Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor; the author of ‘dust’ amongst other of her works.

After hearing this story from her, I always said that I was going to do that exercise as well but I kept postponing it; probably because of fear of what I am going to discover from my own words. But I know I need to do it because I have always anticipated my own death to a paranoid state.

I always saw death in everything and nothing. When I board a matatu, I imagine the most terrible accident happening to the extent that I see myself in blood until to the declaration of my death and how each person is going to react about it. It is almost as if i am watching ‘the final destination’ movies with me being involved. At that moment, it is almost as if i am in a trance and the imagination is so vivid that I start crying at my own death. I’ve imagined my death in a road accident, sometimes when cars pass by too close especially lorries i see them falling on me, sometimes when i used to walk under the bridge i would imagine it falling on me. By God’s name, no single day passed by without imagining my own death. I remember how my best friend and I had the laugh of our lives when I told her of the first time I passed through the bridge under tunnel and imagined it falling over me. It seemed silly but it is real for me. When I see policemen I see chaos starting and bullets running right through my body. And many a times people told me that I watch too many movies, while some tell me I am an over thinker. The irony is that horror movies are my best; probably because they act as a challenge to my deep fear. It is true I have always been paranoid and an over thinker; and as much this has damaged me too many times, it is sometimes a blessing. And sometimes before I sleep, I imagine this is my very last night and it makes me wake up, take my phone and text the people who mean the most to me with the notion in mind, ‘this could be my very last night.’ I never stop telling the people who i care for, how much they mean to me and sometimes they feel I am just being too sentimental but most don’t know what it feels like to lose someone all of a sudden and they are GONE. This paranoia that everyone keeps talking to me about is what makes me strive to be a better person everyday.

I am not going to write my own eulogy as Yvuonne did; I probably have to gather up my guts for that first but I very well know what the closest people to me are going to do upon the announcement of my death.

I know of how my lovely mum will shed only a few tears at a time, trying to be strong even when everyone around her is wailing. I know she will be patient and try to accept her test from God. But I also know she will sometimes sit in her bedroom and have her tears. She will say she misses her ‘partner’ and her ‘baby’ as she always referred to me. Being the tiniest in my family, I always got the advantage of being treated the same way like our last born. I know of how she will talk to my sisters about me for days. I know she will talk about my dreams and try to do for me the rest that i wished to do. I know she, along with my siblings will mention me at every mention of adventures that were in my bucket list. I know she will mention me for so many things and I know she will start blaming herself for so many things. I know she will start blaming herself for not letting me go for these adventures, for not letting me travel to the many places i wanted to go. I know she will blame herself for the tiniest things she didn’t let me do and she will feel guilty about it. I know that because she is just an over thinker like me and i can put myself in her shoes. I hope at that moment, someone will tell her that I really loved her and that I really appreciate how she raised us all. I hope someone will tell her that she did all she could to make me happy and that that was very sufficient for me. I hope someone will tell her that I never felt angry or deprived of anything for the little things she wouldn’t let me do. I hope someone will tell her that it is not true that I loved my phone or my job more than I loved her. I hope someone will tell her that I was always so busy and only worked so hard for her sake and not because I loved my family less than my job. I hope someone will tell her that all the people I talk to in the phone can never be close to how much she meant to me. I hope someone would tell her that I was never going to make her make an appointment so as to see me just because I would have become a very important person with a good job. I hope someone will tell her that I would never be arrogant once i became successful, just as she so much feared. I hope that person would take as much time as they can to make it clear to her that I loved her to bits and that all I wanted is to die with her being pleased with me. Because I very well know how hard it will be to convince her; I know that because I would probably do the same if in her shoes.

I know of dad too. I know he will only shed a few tears during the burial but that will be it. I know he will hide his feelings like he always does and no one will ever know how he is feeling. I know he will miss calling to come watch an inspiring story on TV, or any other story like he always does with the saying, ‘hey writer, come see this movie it’s a nice one.’ I know he will miss narrating to me anything that I had missed watching and he would tell me with the hope that his writer daughter will expand her mind and be a famous writer as well at some time in life. I know he will be strong for my mum’s sake and he will keep consoling her again and again. I hope then, someone is going to tell him that I loved him a lot and I always admired him to the extent of wanting a husband with his qualities. I hope someone will do that for I didn’t tell or show him that often enough.

I know of my older brother. I know he will stay at home for days; staying low profile. I know he will be deeply affected. I know he will recall all the times he would hug me and tell my mum how much he loves me and he would always add, ‘I don’t know why she doesn’t love me’ and I would pretend to be serious like I don’t really love him. I know he will probably question himself what were my real opinions of him. I hope then,, someone will tell him that I really really really loved him and as much as I was hard on him on what he should do and what he shouldn’t, I would want someone to tell him that all I ever wanted was the best for him.

I know of my elder sister. I know of how strong she would be; just like dad. She would be the one to console mum as well. I know she will also cry secretly at times but I also know of how patient she will be. I know of how she would tell her son about his aunty who would only call him ‘baby habiby’. I hope someone would tell her then that at her every epileptic attack, I lost myself in fear of losing her. I hope someone will tell her that she was my strongest example to follow; a role model in patience and faith.

I know of my younger sister; the one who follows me. I know she will cry a lot but still, in silence. She will still tell people not to wail and that it is haraam. I know she will miss her ‘commander in chief’ as she would usually call me. She would miss the supervisor of the house as mum would call me and say that when I am not at home things just go haywire. I know she would miss me because she considered me her best sister and closest at that. I hope someone would tell her at that point that I would have missed her very much as well, if she were to be gone before me. I would have missed coming back home and her hurrying to me with a smile to say she missed me and to ask how my day was. I would miss her forcing me to smile when I couldn’t.

I know of my second last sister. She is the one closest to my nature; the aspiring writer, the poet, the adventurer yet she is more bold and filled with charm more than I ever was. I know she will cry a lot too. I know she will miss giving me an unexpected pinch or slap and how much it annoys me. I know she will miss telling me ‘give me a smile…no, i don’t want that one. I want the million dollar smile. Give me the million dollar smile!’ and that would make me smile without effort. I hope someone will tell her that even though I didn’t have time to listen to her endless stories, I still loved her like she never knew.

I know of my baby sister. Oh, my favourite. I know she will probably look at my sisters and mum as they sob. She will look at them silently as if she doesn’t understand what death is. But I know she knows. I know she understands because she is much smarter than anyone of her age. I know she understands and she is so observant over everything that happens around her just like she was the only one who ever noticed my secret tears. Like how i would go to the room after something has happened and i would see a small shadow following me to every place i went. She doesn’t make it seem obvious but I’ve always known she was following me and when i lie on the bed, she too would lie down in pretense that she is sleeping yet I know she is checking out on me. I hope someone will tell her she is the sweetest and most intelligent little thing I ever came across. I hope someone will tell her that she is lovely, loving and that she meant the world to me.

I know of my half siblings in Yemen. I know they will really be sad and cry too. I know they will say of how we haven’t met in more than fifteen years. I know irregardless of their own suffering in their war country, they will mourn for their gone sister. I hope someone will tell them then that as much as i didn’t communicate with them much it was because I was dying every time they talked of the bomb lasts and the chaos there. I hope someone will tell them I really cared even when I didn’t say it. I hope someone will tell them that I anticipated and day dreamed about meeting them and my lovely nieces and nephews always. I hope someone will tell them that it is not true to say, ‘out of sight out of mind’.

I know of my half brother who i have never met in my life. A very successful radiologist in Suudiya. I hope someone will tell him how proud of him i have always been. I hope someone will tell him that i always wished to meet him and his family someday. I hope someone will tell him even when i didnt keep contact much, I still cared and loved him.

I also know of my extended family. I know they will remember me as the workaholic i have always been. I know they will talk of how i was always busy and up to something. I know they will talk about my smile because it is the only thing they quickly notice when i am not putting it on. I hope someone will let them know that the lack of my smile never meant i was being moody..it is just that at times, i was too tired to stretch any muscles including my lips. I hope they will also know they meant a lot to me.

I don’t really know about my best friend; she is the only one i can’t guess her reaction. She always had her unique way of dealing with difficult times. I don’t know how much she will cry or even if she will, and that is because I don’t really remember seeing her cry; ever, except for once and it was just over the phone. However, I know she will probably go low profile for some time and she will probably be writing my biography just like she always said she would. I know she will write about me a lot in every avenue she will get to talk and write about me. I can imagine of the things she will write; the silly things we did together in the 8 going to 9 years. I know many other people will try talk about me too but she will be the only one apart from my family who will have the most authentic information about me. I know she will miss me a lot or who else was going to cling to her neck? I know I have always told her how much she meant to me and that she is the most precious gift from Allah so I am sure she wouldn’t really need a person to reassure her of what she meant to me. Instead, she will be the one reassuring my family and my other close friends. She is the strongest girl I ever met and probably one of the craziest. Nonetheless, she has always been the one who pushed me to take mature decisions in life. No one was ever going to replace her in my life. I am not worried about what she would do without me, Instead, I would be the one who would be totally lost if she was ever gone before me. After Allah, she is my biggest strength. No one has to tell her anything. She knows it already, she always did.

I also know of my very few close friends; those who were really sincere to me and had no ulterior motives. Those who have always been there at my worst and at my best. Those who never left me just because i was different or paranoid at that. I know them very well and i know how to differentiate between them and my other ‘friends’ who were only in my life for their own benefits. I know how well they will write about me (coincidentally most of them are writers!), how an intense and deep person I was and how they appreciated me. I know they will miss everything about me; including my paranoia. I hope someone will remind them then that I really appreciated that they understood me even when it was so hard to do so. I hope someone will remind them that when I used to tell them how much they meant to me, then I really really meant it.

I know of the very close friends that i was so attached to, who left afterwards. I know of how they will remember the good times i had with them and our deep conversations. I know they will remember how much they meant to me. I know they probably miss me then. I hope someone will tell them then that it always ate me up why they left without any goodbyes or where i ever went wrong. I hope someone will tell them that i cried several times for that. I hope someone will tell them that i scratched my head for answers to the extent my mind became inflamed. I hope someone will tell them that i missed them…and that whatever in me that made me leave, was never intentional..and that i loved them sincerely.

I know of my old friends and teachers that i never talked to frequently but who would still check up on me once in a while. I know how they will remember me for the personal encounters with them especially my high school classmates. I know they will laugh at the many funny moments we had together. I know life kept us busy but i hope someone would tell them then that i still treasured them, loved them very much and wished them the very best wherever they are.

I know of the ones who used to call me names and of those who thought and said i was being hypocritical pretending to be holy when i wouldn’t shake men’s hands and so on. I know of those who smiled at me yet they talked at my back. I know of those who mocked me right in front of my eyes and bullied me emotionally. I know that at that time, they will scrutinize everything that i ever told them. They will try to find deeper meaning in every conversation i had with them. I can very well point out and bet who will then feel guilty and those who just wouldn’t care even then. I hope someone will tell them then that I actually never hated any of them and that I only felt hurt whenever i met them once again. I hope someone will tell them that whenever i met them, i debated with myself whether I should just forgive them or leave it upon God and we let Him be our judge on the day of judgement. My heart would always flip from forgiving them to letting God deal with them…i hope someone will tell them, as much as they damaged me, i still hope when my moment of death comes, my heart will be at the ‘forgive them’ side.

I also know of those who just knew me because of my writing and those who considered me their mentor. I know they will probably miss my posts and they will be motivated to follow my footsteps in writing. I also know of the ones I used to persuade to read my work so that they could give me their opinions and they never did; i know at that instance is when they will rush to see all that i wanted them to see but it will probably be too late to give me their opinions and criticisms. I hope someone will tell my writing fans that they inspired me as much as they considered me an inspiration to them. I hope they will keep writing and that someone will tell them that i loved them , even when i never knew them personally. I also know those who just knew me because of the extra ordinary samosas that mum made and no one could ever have enough of them lol. I know some wouldn’t even remember my name but once they mention the samosas to their friends, they will remember the samosa girl lol. I can even imagine how they will write their encounters with me while buying the samosas…the thought of it makes me laugh. Who ever thought i will be remembered because of food?! hehe

I know of those who misunderstood my intentions, my words and my actions. Those who thought I was being selfish as I whined and complained over my messed up emotions. I hope someone will tell them that I lived with fear, that my thoughts ate me up like the way fire finishes off wood. I hope someone will tell them that I only sounded selfish coz of my over reactions and my repeated statement of what is going to happen to me. I hope someone will tell them that I always cared for them more than I made it seem. That by Allah’s name it was never meant to be selfishness; just deep fear in disguise…

Life has taught me to never take risks when it comes to the people you come in contact with. The smallest of things you do can change their lives forever and it is humanity that eventually gets restored. This may never really help deal with my anticipation for death but i wanted to have a permanent posted reminder to all those that crossed my life at some point; that when i said ‘i care for you’ then i really meant it and for those who misjudged me and took me wrongly by my words or actions then i beg for your forgiveness. Truly life is too short and we never know who will go first. Please forgive me for anything wrong i did to you and if i happen to die before you then please pray for me. And if you get to jannah and don’t find me there, please ask for me. Who knows, maybe your duas is what will make me get a place in jannah in shaa Allah may we all meet there. It is true, I am in the now, but i very well know, it is not forever…may we all have husnul khatima in shaa Allah.

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