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Creative Non-Fiction


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Creative Non-Fiction

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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Creative Non-Fiction

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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JUDGEMENT VS JUSTIFICATION

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How many times have you said to someone else, ‘don’t judge me’ or heard it from someone else perhaps? With no doubt this statement is increasingly becoming our biggest yet most lame excuse for everything. Are you being judged too much? Naah. Are you over justifying yourself? YES!

With the coming of technology and the evolution of the world, people have somehow become sensitive over what they say about or comment to someone about their behaviour or actions, which to some extent is not bad. As the common saying goes, ‘don’t judge others when you don’t know their journey,’ or that everyone should mind their own business. We are actually advised to give people the benefit of doubt as many times as possible and try to understand their journey rather than automatically criticize what they do or say.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a big supporter of giving benefit of doubts, giving people a million other chances and trying to give them space they need but have you noticed how we are increasingly letting ourselves drown in this lame excuse of ‘don’t judge me?’

It’s very important that first people realize that there is a difference between judging someone and correcting them. When I tell you you should reduce on swearing it just means you should reduce on the swearing. Period. There is NO judgement in any way in that statement. But when I start saying that you are good at nothing other than swearing and you are just an evil person who should go straight to hell then yes, I am judging you. Maybe we should learn to differentiate the good intentioned correction from the ill judgement so that we don’t unnecessarily over-use the ‘don’t judge me’ statement. But now everyone is obsessed with this statement which actually in other words means, ‘I very well know that I am doing wrong but just shut up because this is my life.’

People usually correct others only for either of these three reasons. One is that they really care about you and want the best for you. Second is that your actions or words either irritate, bother or annoy them and lastly, they correct you to criticize you which may end up being counted as a judgement. I’ll give this simple example: You have always been a good person but just this one day you are caught stealing; something that you don’t usually do..

Person number one: I really know you had a crucial matter that needed urgent attention and that’s why you stole…but nonetheless, stealing is still wrong, whatever the reason. Please next time when you need any assistance do come to me or so and so and we will help you …just don’t do it again please because we all know you are not a thief.

Person number two: Listen here bro, I know you are my friend but I was really pissed when I knew that you stole from me. Don’t expect me to forgive you any time soon not unless you prove to me that this will never happen again.

Person number three: Hey thief, so what are you planning to steal this time? I always knew you looked like one and now you just proved me right.

In such a scenario, you have no right to say to person number one and two that they are judging you except for the third individual. However, many would still say ‘mind your own business.’ ‘don’t interfere with what doesn’t concern you’ etcetera etcetera etcetera but maybe you should know that whatever you do actually does affect the people around you even if it is indirectly. So please drop the ‘don’t judge me because only God is supposed to judge me,’ and instead accept the truth as it is. Accept positive criticism and most importantly accept that you NEED to be corrected. And not just you, everyone needs to be corrected, guided and shown the way when we are lost.

Maybe you should also realize that someone else in this world is probably facing a much greater problem than yours yet they still don’t go for evil ways to cope up with life. So this kind of justification is most of the times inappropriate. We all do mistakes and most of the times none of us wants to be seen in the wrong but it’s just human so please accept your own baggage of mistakes and instead of justifying yourself too much try and swallow your pride and change your ways. And when you feel no one has the right to correct you then please use the right words like, ‘don’t correct me’ instead of ‘don’t judge me.’ Because you are not being judged, you are just over justifying your own mistakes.

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THE ‘OKAY PEOPLE’ IN YOUR LIFE

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THE ‘OKAY PEOPLE’ IN YOUR LIFE

By Lubnah Abdulhalim

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

In life you will meet people who will be different from you; people with different perspectives of life, different thoughts, different lifestyles, different definitions of happiness and so much more. Not everyone is going to agree with you. Every person has their own journey so learn to respect the differences between you two.  They don’t have to be your enemies nor do you have to befriend them by force, just be okay with them in such a way that you are mature enough to respect the differences between you.

Whereas someone may declare you to be bossy someone else will just call the same thing as good leadership skills. Someone may declare you to be mean; another would call it a tough personality. Someone may call you a cry baby while someone would just call it as sensitivity. Someone may call you foolish while someone else would just see it as humbleness from you. Someone may declare you to have arrogance while to someone else that may as well be your smartness in disguise.

When a person is able to understand your pattern; your way of talking, your way of asking, your way of laughing, your language, your perception of issues and viewpoints without having to justify yourself, then those are the people to hold close in your life; because majority of the rest of the people you will come across in your life will always have the first negative instinct on everything that you do. Many will critique your work, your words and your actions. Many will twist all your positive intentions to be horrible ones. Many will judge you in odd ways but you have to accept the reality of it; that you will meet more and more such people. No need to hold a grudge against the person who doesn’t understand you for what you really are. No need to have hatred for those who hold twisted judgments of you. It happens, not only to you, but to everyone. But if you want to have eternal peace then learn to honestly forgive the differences between you and the other person/s because sometimes, it is not their fault that they don’t really get you. It could be their background or lifestyle or their environment that doesn’t allow them to see life the way you do. So do not hate; embrace the differences instead and make them your ‘okay people’.  You never know because sometimes, making peace with such people may give you both the space to study and understand other viewpoints from each other. You may be surprised to know that you could also learn a lot from your ‘okay people’ more than the people you freely bond with.

Life isn’t about finding the right people always but also learning to embrace the other people whom we don’t agree with by your differences. Respect your different viewpoints and learn to accept that not everyone will be on your side. You may not really love them and sometimes not even like them, but respect between you brings your relationship with them to a whole different level. Sometimes all you need is those two important things; respect and time and maybe you will also be able to accept your ‘okay people’ into your lives permanently. So give it time and appreciate all kind of people in your life. That is the way to find peace.

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THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL

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THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL

By Lubnah Abdulhalim

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

I remember when I was thirteen years old, my closest friend decided to replace me as her best friend with another girl. I was apparently so hurt at that and wrote her a two paged letter filled with so much bitterness and was listing down all the sacrifices I did for her sake and the way she didn’t appreciate. As i was writing the letter, my mother appeared and saw it. she read it through and gasped with astonishment, ‘you carry all this load in your heart?!’ and i cant forget how much she scolded me for concentrating on friendship that much instead of my studies as i was a candidate by then. All in all, my point is not at how my mother scolded me or what happened after that. Many years later now, I look back at that situation and wish that the only betrayal that could ever exist was like that one whereby an innocent thirteen year old is filled with bitterness because her best friend replaced her.

As someone once said, ‘every man faces seven enemies in his lifetime; sickness, hunger, betrayal, envy, greed, old age and finally death.

As I grew up, I realized how naïve I was and that the world is actually like a battle field. so many wolves ready to attack you just the moment you trip. The saddest thing about betrayal though is that it never comes from your enemies, it comes from the people you loved the most.

As John Le Carre said ‘love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love.’ No one could ever dispute this fact that betrayal only happens when you love, because you trusted in the first place. Of course you wouldn’t trust your enemy right? therefore, betrayal never happens with your enemies, it only happens with your loved ones.

We live in a world where you can’t really trust anyone completely. It takes years to build trust and yet, just a few seconds to break it. We live in a world whereby you can’t even trust to leave your wife alone for some few hours, in the fear that another man, probably could be even your neighbour, takes over your place just the moment you leave.

Betrayal has led to so much pain. They say time heals all wounds but they forget that the scar will forever be there. People may forgive but will never forget the deep pain they felt and of course, nothing will ever be the same again.

Sometimes, a mother betrays her child. One would wonder how? but haven’t we seen all those many children appearing on our televisions, with deep cuts, burns, mutilated body parts just because of a small mistake they did? Yes, she betrayed her child. He trusted her, he knew she would never want any harm for him, he knew she would protect her and what did she do instead? she was the one holding the knife, the one holding the flame ready to burn, the one holding a panga ready to chop…the one who put the poison in his food. Yes, that is betrayal. When a father rapes his own daughter and maybe, she even gets pregnant and the girl lives the rest of her life being haunted. Life will never be the same again for her.

Betrayal is when we all put our trust and hope in that leader. As we die with hunger and thirst, we still had the energy to stand up and have faith that change will come with this leader. It is that kind of hope that never dies and we all vote for him, thinking we would never be hungry and thirsty again. But alas! greed is all he ever had.

Betrayal is when you love someone so deeply and just suddenly, they shatter all your dreams into small irreplaceable pieces of glass. Even picking up the pieces will cut you once again so you let them right there with the undying hope that they would realize what damage they caused and maybe…just maybe come back.

Betrayal doesn’t only break your heart, but also darkens your soul. You will never forget the pain and many have changed due to that kind of pain.

Trust is like a mirror, once broken, you may try to repair it but no matter what you will always still see the cracks. So be very careful on whom you trust and value the people who trust you and keep up to their expectations. Don’t disappoint them for giving you the most valuable thing they can ever offer; TRUST!

You are not a fool that you trusted, that you loved, that you had faith…they are the fools for lying to someone who trusted them. So forget what hurt you but never forget what it taught you!

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Creative Non-Fiction

NOTHING PLEASES THE WORLD ANYWAY

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NOTHING PLEASES THE WORLD ANYWAY

By Lubnah Abdulhalim

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

Truly, human beings are the most complex of creatures and each one of us has a different personality from the other. In this life whatever you are, however you are, there must be some people somewhere who will hate you, disagree with you or simply not appreciate you for what you are. As Dita Vee said, ‘You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world and there’s still going to be somebody who hates peaches.’

When you work hard, you are too serious. When you don’t, you are a joker. When you eat, you are greedy. When you don’t, you are a freak. When you read, you are a nerd. When you don’t, you are stupid. You let someone into your life, you are too easy. When you don’t, you’re up too tight. When you tell a secret, you are an attention seeker, when you don’t you are still an attention seeker. You wear make up, you’re a slag. When you don’t, you are old fashioned. When you sleep around, you are a slut. When you don’t, you are frigid. When you cry, you are a cry baby, when you don’t, you are cold hearted. When you wear provokingly, you are an attention seeker. When you wear decent, you are a pretender. When there is war, the world condemns it. When there is peace, the leaders destroy it.

The list could go on and on without ending but all in all, we may as well have to realize that every action we take should have a purpose that to us, is good…the rest of the world doesn’t really matter. Just as people like Hitler have so many haters in the world, there are some people who still adore what the man was. Just the same way, maybe someone somewhere, doesn’t really like what Nelson Mandela stood up for. But that is just life. When you are bad, you are too bad. When you are good, you are way too good to be true. When people don’t know what is happening in your life, they speculate. When you suddenly start becoming rich, they suspect you are either involved with illuminati or you are a corrupt individual. They will always suspect you for something. When they think they know about you, they fabricate. All kind of rumours will spread about you. If it is about that new Mercedes that you bought, stories will go round on what you had to do to get it. Maybe steal some money, maybe oppress someone, and maybe lend from someone etcetera. And when they really know about you, how much you worked to get where you are they will hate you.

When you are sweet, they think you are foolish. They will take advantage of you and step on you like the door mat. When you are firm and strong, they say you are heartless. Even being pretty becomes a crime. They’ll hate you for being pretty. And yet still, they will also hate you when you are not pretty. You barely have any friends at all, why; because you are way too ugly for their company. People will hate you for what you lack. You lack intellect? You lack wealth? You lack good looks? You are not of my standard. And yet still, when you have got everything that everyone wishes for, they’ll still hate you; for having what they don’t.

People who speak out their minds usually have the most haters because they don’t try to fit in with everybody else. The bad news is you can never fit in with everyone. That’s just impossible. The good news is the great never do. So stop the struggle of trying to make people like you. Fact is you can’t please the world. Nothing does anyway.

However much you try, there will always be people who don’t like you; the way you look, the way you talk, the way you dress, the way you speak out your mind, the way you mingle with them, the things you believe in, your intellect, the things you read and listen to. In the end of the day, it is up to you whether you will let people ruin your day and control your actions towards them or whether you will stand up for yourself and be whatever you want to be without fearing or caring what people will really think about you. Do what you think is right to you, do good to your ability and never think twice about doing it more and more. You are not in this world to please anyone apart from God. There will always be people who won’t appreciate your nature, your struggles, dreams and ambitions but for sure, there won’t miss a person who will. So just be a nice person and true to yourself. That’s what really matters.

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Creative Non-Fiction

OUR LIVES IN A SNAP

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OUR LIVES IN A SNAP

By Lubnah Abdulhalim

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

 

Me-Snap

Food-Snap

Location-Snap

Spouse-Snap

Friends-Snap

Shoes-Snap

Gift-Snap

Family Outing- Snap

Posted Facebook- Check

Posted Instagram- Check

Posted Snapchat- Check

Posted Twitter- Check

Posted Whatsapp- Check

We are all living in the technology frenzy and all we have are camera clicks everywhere we go. With the coming of the selfies, oh my, people couldn’t get busier. The reality is that we have lost the actual essence of taking photos and videos. We no longer buy shoes because we need them, we no longer even enjoy the food that we really like. We no longer really cherish the moments we live because we are all focused on taking photos and posting them on social media so that the world can see what we ate, what we wore, what we did. And the real value of these moments all go to waste because as soon as the photos are deleted from our gallery then that’s the end of it.

So picture this scenario.Here we are, in a very beautiful place, having wonderful food with the people we love most but what are we doing? The first thing we do is take photos of the food, of the place, of you all; but while we are busy doing all this, we forget the actual essence of our outing or picnic or whatever the occasion is. We are now cherishing the photos more than the real value of the photo or the whole event.We don’t even remember the conversations we have because we are only half listening; everyone busy taking snaps to show off to the world.

Technology has made us in a daze. We are slowly selling our entire lives to technology and before we realize it, our lives would be nothing more but a snap. All our moments will mean nothing to us because we didn’t really participate in creating a memory.

As we grow old, maybe at one time when you are at your 80’s you will be looking at your phone, your gallery full of photos that you took over time but they end up to be just photos. Photos that don’t have any value to you; meaningless snaps, because you were busy snapping instead of living the actual moment.

Live the moment. It doesn’t come twice. Don’t let the snap dictate your life!

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I AM THE CHILD OF THE WORLD

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

 

 

I am the child of the world

born with universal faith and hope

I am the child of Adam and Eve

doesn’t matter if my dad is Abdullah, Salman or Steve

I am the child of Syria

Today was a very sad day at school. It was the burial of my favourite teacher Miss fidya and the compound was covered with people from the media. I remember looking at her with so much admiration, as she talked with so much inspiration. Her smile glowed in the daylight like the moon in the darkest of nights.

‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’

‘I want to be like you; a teacher, a great leader’

She would then smile and pinch at my tiny nose. oh…this is surely more than a loss. The story went round between cries and low whispers. Of how her house was bombed and shattered to pieces. She died alongside her husband, daughters and nieces. The other teachers were slowly weeping too; not just for Miss Fidya but for all the teachers and students our school had lost too. And now I have changed my mind. I don’t want to be a teacher anymore. I don’t want to die like miss Fidya or the others. I don’t want to be a teacher anymore because I am scared to be one.

I am the child of Palestine

My favourite day is eid day because that is the day I get to play with fireworks together with my friends. We all wear good clothes and just after the prayers we go round with my friends buying all colourful fireworks for the night. We go to the park and swing and play the whole day. I love eid. It is a lovely day because I get to eat very tasty foods and snacks from relatives and neighbours. When the night comes, we gather with many other boys and light the fireworks. I love the fireworks; they give me the thrill and really excites me. But now eid is no longer eid. We no longer have eid in our neighbourhood. All we have is long scary days filled with the dust of bombs and explosives. Houses are broken down and we can no longer play outside. Fireworks frighten me nowadays. They remind me of the explosions I hear everyday. I don’t like fireworks anymore; they remind me of our grief, sadness and doom. They remind me that we can never light up the sky with beautiful colours and patterns anymore and instead we have huge infernos lighting up our skies. They remind me that we can never have eid anymore…

I am the child of Yemen

The child who keeps dreaming of honey and heaven. I have a neighbour who has a bakery just across my home. Every evening after school I go to the bakery and watch him make delicious cookies, bread and donuts. I enjoy seeing him put cream in a beautiful way on the cakes and he makes sure to put some on my face. Whenever I would ask him why he would say, ‘you are my birthday girl.’

‘But it is not my birthday.’

‘You are special and birthdays are special and cakes are special so you are my birthday girl.’

I would laugh loudly with amusement and I would ask him the question everyday just to hear him call me ”My birthday girl”. Then hunger striked our city just like the war brought down our city. The baker still made his delicious bread in silence and grief could be seen on his face. Everyone was hungry and he had to lower the prices so to help others. But soon afterwards, people and children came in multitides crying of their broken homes and hunger; he would give them bread for free. Soon there was no flour, sugar or oil to do anything. Hunger was slowly creeping to his door too. He was sad but I still went to him every evening; not to bake or make bread anymore but to sit with him outside his bakery where he sat with his radio listening closely.  I would watch him in silence and wonder.

‘Why do you sit here amo?’

‘I am waiting to hear for the day that I can get my supplies of flour, sugar and oil again.’

‘But why not listen at home?’

‘Because closing down my bakery would mean I have given up hope. I don’t want to give

 up hope. I have faith in Allah.’

That was enough to convince me, and we would sit in silence listening to what the radio had to announce. The baker no longer called me ‘my birthday girl’ coz he no longer had cream to put on my face nor a cake to offer. ..but I understood him and still wanted to sit by him. Soon, the war got worse,  I couldn’t go to school nor could my mum allow me to even go to the baker again. It was too dangerous. It made me so sad; how would i learn how to bake anymore? I would roam around the house aimlessly; waiting for the worst like everyone else. As for the baker, I just watched him through our window as he sat outside his empty bakery listening to his radio. He still won’t give up. He still had faith…

I am the child of Iraq, Nigeria, Afghanistan and Kenya. I am the child of numerous other countries too. I am the child of the universe and the world. I am the child whose dreams are broken in the name of war and terror. I am the child who is deprived from happiness and peace. I am the child who wants to dream yet my soul is held captive in the nightmares of terror. I am the little bird wanting to fly, please don’t break my feeble wings. I am the child of not just a particular country, I am the child of every parent; the daughter of every mother and the son of every father. I am your child, please don’t let me die. I am the child speaking for all the children of the world, please let me grow. I am the child of the world.

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Creative Non-Fiction

I WANNA BE A BREAKER

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I WANNA BE A BREAKER

By Lubnah Abdulhalim

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

 

Dreams crashing down

like the stars falling down

my thoughts make me drown

is it just my eyes

or is the grass also turning brown?

My heart makes me frown

I wanna be a breaker

not the kind that breaks hearts in a flicker

but the one who takes a break from the world.

Wings broken, with nothing to hold

alas, my heart will forever scold

of the soul that’s grown so cold

but hey, comes the inner whisper

an inner calling, an inner fixer

You can be a breaker

not the kind that destroys

Oh no..not even the kind that betrays

but the one that disappears

The one who deals with his fears.

Tears flowing

Under the moon, so glowing

is it just my soul

Even in daylight, that falls?

Oh yes I wanna be a breaker

not the kind that escapes

his challenges, his miseries

but the kind that closes on the world

to filter, to absorb.

I don’t wanna be a record-breaker

oh no…not even the one to initiate an ice breaker

I wanna take a break

a break from the screams of the universe

I wanna drown into the silence

oh yes I crave for that kind of presence

of nothing but my soul’s stillness

I wanna be immersed in the tranquility

of peace and spirituality

don’t you get it?

I just wanna be a breaker

the kind that takes a break from the world.

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SOCIAL MEDIA;UNVEILING OUR SHYNESS

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Photo Courtesy: http://cdn1.medicalnewstoday.com

You probably have heard of the old times or watched from the television shows or movies of the morals of the previous generations. Many of us may sit down and criticize those tough moral measures that were kept on our parents or grand parents or even great grand parents. We get amused at how parents those times were and laugh sarcastically, calling them ‘old fashioned’. Irony is, we are the ones to be pitied. We the current generation, the children of 21st Century, the children of the internet; we are the ones to be mocked and laughed at.

Though the internet and development of technology has brought to positive benefits in our lives, we fail to see how the social media has unveiled all our shyness and modesty in the name of freedom and choice. I mean, look at the old folks and listen to their love stories. How lovers had to meet in forests and hideouts, how the tale of their love would be top most secret, how touching a lady was such a big deal that one would be beaten up and stoned by the entire neighbourhood by the mere rumour that the boy is stalking a certain girl. Listen to the struggle a man had to go through before ever getting a girl or being accepted to marry him. Listen to how the girl in love would hide and bury all her emotions and never conceal to anyone that she met her lover today. Maybe that’s why the old folks know the meaning of true love and how to respect a woman, that’s because they know the struggle they had to go through with the girl’s parents before finally making her his better half. That’s because, they learnt it the hard way. Listen to how a girl would skillfully hide that she went out with friends without permission from her father; how she would be scared to death on what would happen to her if her father found out she went for a picnic with friends. A young boy smoking weed or hanging out with wrong friends would trick his parents for years giving them the idea he is being a responsible boy. I am for sure not supporting pretence but this just shows how as much as people were doing the wrong things, they were ashamed to tell it to  their parents or to let the society see their misdoings openly.

So you see a girl coming out from home in her long dress looking very decent and simple and decides to stop over a friend’s place to change into tiny skimpy dress and for some makeup. This was ofcourse to remain top secret. Then lets have a look at how social media has brainwashed our minds. We were made to believe that we can be whatever we want to be, we can live as freely as we want and in fact, we can put a stop to these old folks interfering with our lives. That we shouldn’t be ashamed of anything. We were fed with images of singers, dancers and lovers and we were made to believe it’s totally OK to be half naked, to show every fine detail of our bodies, we were made to believe that love is random and intimacy before marriage is totally OK, I mean, we all have feelings right? It’s your utmost freedom whether or how you want to deal with those feelings. We are made not to care how painful it would be for our parents to know what we are doing, we are fed with the idea that we are adults and no one should control our actions. So now all we have in our social media is of all kinds of girls showing off their bossoms and bottoms, their hips and hair clips.  We have the boys talking of their nights in gangs smoking shisha and weed and literally believing they are stars. And we have the lovers talking openly of how they spent their days and nights together. So where is our modesty here? Is there any shyness left? So who is to blame here? Whom are we going to blame that women are no longer respected and that the women no longer respect their spouses? Whom will we blame when our daughters tell us they are pregnant and our boys, HIV positive?

The social media has enslaved us. It has made us grow with ridiculous opinions and dreams. It has made us cheap. I am quite sure that atleast 50% of the social media users or even more would have a  totally different character had they lived without social media. Many regard it as an eye opener to reality but it has not only opened our eyes, it blinded us thereafter. It has made us hypocrites of our own souls, it has drained all the moral teaching we ever had, while feeding us with stories of low life people who are made to be worlds’ stars. We are made to envy the bodies of actresses and models, we are made to be thrilled by their kind of life which is made up of only three things; Wealth and fame while they are keen to not mention their third characteristic of their private lives and that is depression. So girls go crazy over singers and take half naked pictures like them and imitate their hairstyles and fashion. The boys on the other hand fancy the  nights out surrounded by women with smoke everywhere and ofcourse this scenario is so much beautified that our poor boys think of it like paradise.

If i may guess, approximately 70% of social media users would not be willing to show their parents their social media accounts. That’s because, many youth have so much that parents have totally no idea about. A poor mother somewhere thinks her daughter is a virgin yet she’s totally not. Another thinks that her daughter is very decent and is very proud to say that to the neighbour, and the neighbour just laughs sarcastically at this poor woman because the whole world knows her daughter is not a saint as she thinks. So we let the whole world know us; what we wear, whom we love, where we go, which part of my face  I have a pimple and where I got a dimple, the whole world knows that I spent the night at a boy’s house while my dear parents think their ‘very good daughter’ is at a friend’s place studying. The whole world knows; except the dearest people in our lives whom we keep deceiving. And we are so proud of that that we count ourselves as superstars.

Nonetheless, there are parents who have also been swept off by social media and totally don’t mind this so called ‘freedom’ on their children. Parents have stopped setting limits and showing their children, ‘this is the red line. Do not cross it.’ So how can we blame the youth completely? How can you blame a girl for posting her half naked picture while her mother was there while she was taking the snap and totally said nothing? How can we blame the boy for sleeping around with different women yet his parents very well know he didn’t spend the night home and wasn’t asked what he is up to? And yes, if parents keep being irresponsible and acting just as immature as their children then we can’t hope for a better future.

Whereas we; the current generations were expected to learn from our folks’ mistakes and become more responsible than they were in their youth age, we have totally failed with that. We; the social media generation, are the rotten generation and I honestly don’t think anyone really anticipates how the future generations would be as technology continues to grow. If you are still sane enough in this insane world then thank your Lord and pray that you die with your senses in place.

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