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Inspiration


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Inspiration

BLISS

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When I was a child, I wanted to be like the Palestinian kid. I sympathized with them a lot but more than that, I adored them. Their resilience, their bravery, their courage to come face to face with death, with the enemy. To stand up for what they truly believe in. I think they are phenomenal. These were my heroes; these kids. Then when I grew up with a faint heart, I decided maybe the next best thing is to adopt one of them someday; a Palestinian or Syrian child. It still is a dream.

When the Ethiopian plane crash happened, I really really tried not to write about it. Because everyone was. It was all over the social media. It still is. And with my faint heart, I thought, we need a breathing moment. Just a second to breathe. So I tried to avoid the media as much as I could. Yet still, the same night I dreamt I was in the plane crash. See? Faint heart. Before I could let that incident sink in, the New Zealand bombing happened. This definitely was a worse blow because it was an act of cruel, ruthless human beings. It was agitating and heartbreaking. So again, I actively avoided my laptop. I didn’t want to rant about how depressing and agonizing this world is. Because well, who doesn’t know it already?

So I’ve been having this comforting thought that I clinged on a drowning man holding onto a straw. Jannah. Paradise. You know, most times we dwell on how terrifying this world is (which it truly is), we forget of Allah’s promise to us. What’s yet to come if we believe and are patient.

I find it comforting to think of a day when we’ll meet our loved ones who departed and left this world before us. Imagine the first moment you see one another; the joy, the excitement, the thrill. Unbelievable, we all made it! You start updating them of all that happened in their absence. You hug and rejoice. You talk at length. You hug more.

Here are your besties seated with you under the largest, most beautiful tree you can ever imagine, its branches swinging swiftly, filling your lungs with fresh air. You are laughing than you ever did in your previous life. Laughing until your stomach aches. All of you are reminiscing of the moments you had in this life. Moments when you wanted to give up on life, on God, on people. Moments when you just wanted to die because what’s the point? But here you are?! And there is food of course. All kinds of food you are so confused what to eat and what not. But it’s the good kind of confusion. Not the one where you are unsure where to eat a rotten cow’s flesh or the leftovers in the trash bin. The exhilarating kind of confusion. You are seeing food you never knew existed. The taste is too sweet to be true. You are so overwhelmed with joy you want to scream ‘foooooooddddd.’

Across the garden is your mother and father seated on huge seats that befit the royalties. They are happy. You can see it from how your mother’s face is glowing and how your father is smiling. Tears form in your eyes because it is like a dream. You always wanted this for them. This kind of bliss. This kind of peace. And there they are, earning what they truly deserve by the Mercy of Allah.

You remember a friend of yours that you haven’t yet met in Paradise so an angel directs you to another garden where you’d find them. And there they are, seated next to sahabas listening to their stories while they laugh. A river passes next to them and tiny green birds fly above them. You see their palace. You are almost jealous. They are in a different level of paradise than you are. The good kind of jealous though. Your friend sees you and you embrace tightly. You take a moment to feel the embrace.
‘What more did you do than I did?!’ You whisper in their ears as you smile.
‘What’s the fun in telling you? The suspense is more fun,’ they laugh. And then you both laugh.
‘But you are always welcome you know. No one will stop you,’ they tease you some more. You embrace again and they invite you to join their seating and listen to the real heroes.

At your next stop you meet nabii Yunus and you are so curious to ask him about the view inside the whale’s stomach but instead you just greet him and stand there so tongue-tied; not from intimidation but from disbelief. You meet nabii Ibrahim and you want to ask him about his feeling when he was about to be thrown into the fire. You meet nabii Yusuf and you are utterly flabbergasted by his beauty. Ah unbelievable! Nabii Ayub is right there and you are in awe because he was your role model on earth when it came to patience. You can’t believe you are meeting all these people you only read about and admired all your life long.

Hurul ains are walking graciously around and you nod in agreement; they are a spectacle. You could spend your entire day just watching them move about. And their eyes!! Wow. What a sight. The worldly description that you heard of them could never suffice describing their real beauty.

You speed up now because you really want to get a glimpse of prophet Muhammad. You want to see his Majesty. You want to sit next to him and talk to him and listen to him and and…You just never thought of the day this would be possible. You seated right opposite him having a one on one chat with him. And you know what’s the best part? You won’t be talking about the enemies that are about to attack or the plots of the hypocrites. Pure, good talks. Happy conversations. Joyful moments.

No tears anymore. No sadness. No loss. No sickness. No death. No pain. No fake connections. No jealousy. You have all you need and no one can take it away from you. Just bliss. Pure bliss.

I for one can’t imagine a life without crying. I am a cry baby so there is barely any earthly day that passes by without me crying; whether its out of happiness or not. So I wonder what I’d be crying about in Jannah. Maybe eating all the things I couldn’t in this world and I’d be so overwhelmed with joy and I’d be crying. Hey! No allergiessss anymorrreeee!!

I want to sleep on my mother’s laps as she pats my hair, as we lie down watching the stars. I want to have my siblings seated next to us as they tease me for being a spoilt child. I want to watch my father enter his own palace that he prayed and worked for really hard. Mama two would be right there with us, chit chatting excitedly as she always was on Earth. I want to have my husband and my children surrounding me like a queen as they try to feed me fruits of paradise. My family scattered in different parts of Jannah like cute butterflies.

I would definitely go around looking for my best friends and we’d go explore the huge paradise with them. Find secret, undiscovered corners and make it our meet-up point. Climb on the paradise horses and go for adventures. Have brunch picnics at the rooftop of the highest palace and go visiting our other friends.

I would go find the prophet’s wives; Khadija (May peace be upon her). I want to meet this magnificent woman who defined real womanhood for me. Oh myyy!! I want to meet Aisha (may peace be upon her too!) I really think I would click with her because I’m the jealous type too. I would tell her, ‘You know,,that time you broke your co-wife’s plates when she brought food for your husband while it was your day? I totally get that! I would do the same!’ Then she’d say, ‘Really?!’ I’d say, ‘Totally!’ Then she’d like me immediately and we’d become friends. Then I’d remind her of the incident when she stalked the prophet when he left home one night all of a sudden. Then we’d laugh. It would probably be like an immediate connection and we’d sound like old buddies huhuhu! (Please note I am in no way encouraging being jealous and breaking the plates of your co-wives 😀 )

Then I’d find Khawlah bint Al Awzar, the warrior who fought in battles during the times of the prophet. Maaaan, I admire brave women and she’s totally among the first I want to meet. Then there’s Khansa, the greatest poet of her times, and we’d compare notes and maybe she’d even be kind enough to share her poetry tips who knows? Then there’s Fatimah and Maryam, the mother of Issa. The women’s list is so long. But who cares? There will be alllll the time to find them all. Because no jobs remember?! No Monday blues and evening exhaustion! No angry bosses and annoying workmates! Huh! How awesome is that!

Then there’s the sahabas; the likes of Umar ibn Khattab and Salman Al Farisy and Abubakar Assidiq and Sa’d ibn Muaadh (radi Allahu anhu) who had seventy thousand angels attended his funeral. Then there are all those sheikhs and scholars you adored so much and never got a chance to meet them and converse with them. In short, there’ll be a lot of Meet & Greet events to be done. Only this won’t be like the Insta ones. This is Jannah kind. You know what I mean?!

Of course it would be wondeeerful to meet anyone you knew in this world. It is utmost privilege knowing you and your crowd were among the chosen ones. We’d congratulate one another and embrace.

Here we are! We almost thought the world would never end. But here we are! At the best of places with the best of people with the best of nature with the best of food. What more would we need? Nothing. Nothing more. Cause we’d have made it. We have made it!! Imagine it. Just imagine it.

***

Ooops! Sorry to burst the dreaming bubble. It was a beautiful, soothing moment wasn’t it? I bet it was. Let’s pray and work towards attaining it. When this world seems so suffocating, remember the reward awaiting us. May Allah forgive us and have mercy on us. May He grant us the patience and make us and our families and all our loved ones meet in Jannah ya Rab! Ameeeeen. Let’s remember to pray for one another and for the world.

***
Our next writing training is already set. Register for it people 🙂 Kindly share the poster or even better, sponsor a student to attend and earn yourself some thawab in shaa Allah 😉

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Guest Posts

YOU ARE WORTHY

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You are worthy because Allah created you. Because you are one of His creatures.
Because He knows your name.

As human beings we sometimes struggle with our feelings of worthiness and perceptions of our own value.

We see someone who has ‘more’ than us and we feel less. We look at his big house, his four wheel drive and his gadgets and we feel less.
We see someone who has ‘accomplished’ more than us and we feel less.
We are awed by his multiple university degrees, or his lofty job title or the powerful people he knows and we feel less.

A lucrative career does not make someone worthier and neither do excellent grades or being multilingual or being “gorgeous.”

Just know that you are worthy just by being you.

Ladies, take note- you do not have to look a certain way or look like someone else or take off your hijab to be worthy.

You do not have to torture yourself with toxic chemicals because you desire to keep up with the Khateebs or the Alwis. You do not have to be a certain weight or a certain skin tone. You do not have to impress anyone to feel valuable.

You are priceless just the way you are.

Parents, take note….your child does not have to bring home straight A’s or win academic awards for you to be proud of him. He is deserving of it just the way he is. Your child does not have to bend over backwards or reinvent the wheel or come out at the top of his respective class for him to be worthy of your love. Put no conditions on your love.
Love him for who he is.

Young people take note. You do not have to smoke, do drugs, skip school to be worthy of your ‘friends’ or to fit in.

You deserve friends who will hang out with you for who you really are.
Gentlemen, take note. You do not have to compete with others to be worthy. You do not have to waste the precious hours of your life trying to prove that you can be more than , have more than or be just like that man you envy and admire.

You are worthy whatever salary you make, whatever you use for transportation, however old your electronics are and even if she is the only wife you have.
You are worthy.

For those of us who are so very abundantly blessed, you can have all that you are blessed to have without believing somebody else deserves it more.
You can learn to be grateful for Allah’s gifts and blessings on you without feeling guilty for having them.

Can you not see that in itself is disbelief and a lack of faith?
It might be a challenging feat learning and accepting that we are worthy. Allah loves us and blesses us in so many ways and that in itself should teach us that we are worthy.

Our worthiness is not defined by age or beauty or net worth or achievements. The more we place emphasis on these things the more people will fall into self loathing and a sense of not fitting in.

You are worthy, dear reader. You are worthy. You have been worthy since the day you were born and your father gave you your name. You are worthy.
You are worthy of all that is good and safe and blessed. You are worthy of great health and prosperity. You have no need to apologise for yourself or your uniqueness which the Almighty bestowed on you. You are worthy. You are worthy.

Say it with me. I AM WORTHY.

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Inspiration

DARLING, YOU HAVEN’T BEEN LIVING

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Your alarm goes off and you let it snooze for the second time before stretching your hand lazily to put it off. You sit upright on your bed for a moment and think, ‘that was a long, restless night’. But you’ve had restless nights since when? You try to count. You lose the count halfway. It’s been years now. Late night sleep and early morning work. ‘It’s a sacrifice I have to make for our own better livelihood’ you convince yourself. But you’ve been making sacrifices for the past ten years. You frown, dismiss the thoughts and pick up your phone. Four missed calls and three text messages. You go through them. Work work work. You put it back and drag your feet to the washroom. Nowadays, you can’t even enjoy a warm shower like you used to. Time doesn’t give you that luxury, or rather, you don’t give yourself the time to enjoy anything anymore. ‘You’ve been busy.’

Hurriedly, you choose what to wear. It doesn’t really matter much anymore so long as it is clean and neat. You call out your husband’s name to wake up as you head to the kitchen to make some quick breakfast. You move to the fridge and take some eggs to make omelets for yourself and your small family. You quickly glimpse at the sticker on the fridge. It says, ‘The pursuit of happiness’ with some other tiny written words below it. You haven’t seen this one before. You smile. It must be your teenage son who kept it up. You want to read it but then you remember you have an important meeting with an important client. You make a mental note to come check it out again. You need to hurry.

Very fast, you prepare the breakfast. ‘Did I put salt in the eggs?’ You can’t remember. You put the breakfast on the table with the salt sprinkler next to it. You grab two slices of bread, insert an omelet inside it and sprinkle some little bit of salt to make a sandwich. You eat as you head to your son’s room to wake him up for school before going back to wake his father once again. You kiss him goodbye and tell him the breakfast is on the table. You take two long sips of your coffee, grab your car keys and off you go.

Heading towards your car, you meet mama Zainab who owns a small shop opposite your villa. She is humming a taarab song you are familiar with as she sweeps outside her shop.

“Good day huh?” You smile.

“Always,” she laughs.

You get into your car wondering how mama Zainab can seem so fresh and energetic that early morning while she had to walk for twenty minutes to get to her shop. Maybe you are going to ask her of her secret some day.

Inside your car you notice your book on self-love on the seat beside you. Your best friend bought it for you because she thought ‘you need to take care of yourself more’. You think she is just being ridiculous but you still promised to read it. You’ve been trying to read it for the past two months now. It is an interesting one but where is the time to read? You sigh and take off. You meet your important client, then another, then a board meeting. You make a mental note to call your husband at lunch break. You don’t get the chance to. Back to work. Work work work. ‘It is a sacrifice I have to make so my family can have a comfortable and the best kind of life’ you say it to yourself once again. It is all in the pursuit of happiness.

You get home extremely exhausted. Your son is already asleep; you don’t get to ask him about his day or even about the new sticker on the fridge. You have a rather silent dinner with your husband apart from the random small talk. Both of you are tired, you head to bed. Each one rolls up to their side of the bed. You close your eyes. You open them. You close them. Repeat. You check your phone now. It’s been one hour since you went to bed. Sleep just doesn’t seem to be your friend nowadays. Your mind still remains awake. Still contemplating. Calculating. Arranging. Planning. Work still visits you even on your bed.

You sigh loudly and walk up to the fridge to grab a glass of water. You notice the sticker again. You bring your face closer and squint your eyes to read the tiny words. It says, ‘Happiness is not having what you want. Its wanting what you already have.’ It strikes you hard. You haven’t been living; you’ve just been sacrificing. Sacrificing at the cost of what really mattered to you; creating moments with your family, your health and your peace of mind. You’ve always been on the run. Always seeking something beyond what you already have. You pull a chair from the dining table and sit. You suddenly realize how you’re ageing so fast. You let it sink in. Darling, you haven’t been living. You’ve just been seeking.

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Creative Non-Fiction

MENTAL ISSUES AND SILLY THINGS PEOPLE WILL SAY TO YOU

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As a child, my fellow schoolmates would call me a cry baby and my family would say i’m moody. I heard those two words so often I believed that something was so wrong about me and that I was just a burden most of the times. This made me pull myself away and stay in my shell for the longest time. I believed, staying away is the only way to save people from my troubled heart. By the time I was nine, I was already facing physical drainage and excess fatigue. Coming from school, which was just 5-7 minutes away, I would have to pause on the way, sit down and catch my breath. Many years later I would sit in front of different doctors as they place the results in front of me and say, ‘The results are clear; your heart is in good condition, you are not over weight, your blood pressure is fine too…Everything is fine. Could it be that something is bothering you?’

The problem was, everything was bothering me. Starting from the stray cat I saw this morning to the whatsapp video on something that happened in China. I was carrying the entire universe on my frail body; it was shattering. At that time, I was quite desperate to be diagnosed with some physical ailment so that I could prove to people that there was a genuine reason for how my body functioned and how I am.

Over the years, I struggled with fatigue, over-thinking, too much worry and over-whelming emotions that brought me down over and over again. I would break down often, get panic attacks that would crash my soul down…I was bullied and manipulated many times. I lost a lot of ‘friends’ along the way. ‘Friends’ who thought my anxiety was attention seeking and that I was simply a nagging individual. To make it worse, my two very different personalities never made it easy for anyone to understand me fully. I was misunderstood; greatly. I was the black sheep everywhere I went. It thus made me create huge walls so that people wouldn’t get too close or they’d sink in my misery as well. The only other option would be that they’d leave.

For the longest time, one small phrase kept me afloat. When I was around eleven years old, there was some sort of fight at home so I locked myself in the washroom and broke down. My mother noticed my absence and kept knocking on the door asking me to come out. She kept saying everything will be okay but everything was blurry for me. In the midst of her begging, I heard her say to my sisters, ‘Lubnah ana imani’ to mean I am empathetic. That was the first time someone ever said something positive about my tears. I decided to cling on that like a drowning man holding onto a straw.

The biggest favour I did to myself was accept myself for who I am and start my self-discovery journey. I went both for ruqya and therapy. I keenly studied myself; what triggers my anxiety, my worry, my fear and my mood swings. I decided to take up Islamic psychology not just to help myself but hopefully help the many others who are like me and can’t speak up. Trust me, writing this down is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. When I started doing my writing training I purposely included therapeutic writing so that more people like me can have an idea on how to cope.

The hardest thing in all this was dealing with the words people threw at me. Sometimes they’d joke about my situation but they’d never know how badly it affected me. It killed my self esteem. As I kept on with my self discovery journey, I talked to a lot of other people with anxiety and who’ve experienced depression like I did. Here are some of the silly questions and comments anyone with mental illness will relate to.

1. That incident happened 3 years ago. You mean you aint over it?!
:

2. Just forget about it.
: Oh wow Lisa! Thank you so much for that. I don’t know why I never thought of it!

3. Cheer up already!

4. You wanted this for yourself.
: Watch me summon my demons 😀

5. You have weak faith in God.
: Please explain that to my 9 year old self.

6. Stop being a drama king/queen
:

7. Don’t you trust God’s plan?!

8. You just like being sad.

9. Maybe if you get married you will be fine.

10. Come on you need to grow up. Stop acting like a baby.

11. Some people are going through worse. People are hungry, malnourished, in war-torn areas, with all their family dead…how can you be stressed about something like that.

12. You are just being ridiculous with all that over-thinking.
: You think so?!

Okay, gifs aside 😀 ( Oh I really love the gifs 😀 )

I know there are a lot of people who are suffering silently, being judged and misunderstood. All i’ll say is this:

# It is psychologically proven that religious people have less mental distress. Our holy books do confirm that for the comfort of the heart you need to get attached to God. It is true too that people who are far from God are mostly miserable and dissatisfied with their lives. NONETHELESS, we have to also be aware that for some people, this is just their test. They may be making mistakes and sinning, but not entirely evil people such that you’d say God is punishing them. Mental illness is as real as biting into your own skin. We need to create awareness on this.

# If you have any mental issue, you are going to lose several people along the way. Perhaps even your family isn’t supportive or understanding. But do know that, eventually, the right people will come into your life and they will NEVER disregard your pain or call you names or joke about your suffering or compare you to the other relative who had a similar issue. They will accept you fully and walk beside you through self discovery, self control and healing. Keep having faith.

#It is so ridiculous when people think that marriage or love is what will cure your mental illness. The support you get in a good marriage may help you immensely in your recovery journey but that is never a guarantee is it? Build up your own emotional independence and walk through the storm on your own. The friends, family and others can walk beside you but never be entirely dependent on one or some people to heal you. What if they leave your life or pass away? Be your own anchor!

#Talk to your parents. Most of the times we just assume our parents won’t understand us and what troubles us. You could be surprised the amount of support they’d give you once you speak up. You will be so relieved. It could be one parent or both parents or maybe one of your siblings; just anyone you are comfortable talking to. Talking it out helps!

#It is true that whichever battle you are fighting, someone else is facing a waaay worse situation than you are. Yes, we should be grateful always, but we shouldn’t disregard our own battles and struggles either. You can’t tell someone with diabetics to not worry about their deteriorating health because a homeless child in Syria hasn’t eaten today, can you? Let’s face our troubles and work them out instead of burying them just because ‘someone out there has it worse’. Let us be realistic.

#Seek professional help. When it becomes unbearable, don’t feel ashamed or shy to seek professional help. Be brave and take care of your own self. Remember no one can take care of you better than yourself.

#Yes, pray more and be patient. Everyone is tested differently in this life and this is your battle to win. God only gives you what you can handle. Make sure to not fail this test.

#If you’re a parent, please be keen on your children’s life. Talk to them. Ask them often how they are doing. Encourage them to open up without judging them. Don’t allow your child seek comfort from somewhere else while you are around. Be their best friends.

#If you’re a friend/relative to someone with a mental issue; you have two choices. If you can, be very patient and supportive as they navigate through their journey of growth and healing. They need it so badly you have NO idea how much. That’s something they’ll forever be grateful for. If it is too draining and toxic for you, it is totally okay for you to excuse yourself kindly and take care of yourself. Sometimes we are so engrossed in the lives of the people we care about that we neglect ourselves. That shouldn’t be so. You can’t save them if they don’t want to be saved. You are only human and struggling as well. Make sure you know how to balance your own life before helping out someone else.

#If you’re in good mental state, take a minute to thank God for it. Mental illness of any kind isn’t something you’d wish for your enemy even. Don’t be quick to judge people who are withdrawn or cry a lot or seem moody…YOU JUST NEVER KNOW what storms and demons they are facing that you have absolutely no idea about. It is so easy to say I broke my leg I need a doctor than to say I haven’t slept or eaten or even woken up from my bed for the past 3 days. Do know that it takes a lot of courage for someone to open up about their mental state. Appreciate their honesty. Be kind, be patient and give people benefit of doubt. Don’t joke about someone’s misery; you really wouldn’t like to be in their shoes. We don’t need pity, we need understanding. Remember them in your prayers too. That will be really helpful, thank you.

#You being the victim of a mental illness; depression, anxiety, PTSD…whichever it is, it is very important that you start your self discovery journey. Seek help, pray a lot, research on your condition and mostly, take care of yourself. Most people won’t understand your struggle due to lack of information and ignorance, but that shouldn’t bring you down. Take your time in the growth process. It won’t be a one day or one week thing. Sometimes it takes months or even years. But definitely worth the trial.

I am still on my journey and I know it will probably be like this for my entire lifetime yet I believe this is my test and God gave me this kind of soul for a reason.
May God easen it for anyone struggling within their own souls and may you find the peace of mind and solace you seek. Ameen.

As we end this, we have two important events coming up:

One is the writing training next weekend (28th & 29th). The sessions include: Basic writing skills, introduction to blogging, therapeutic writing, writing about the Coast, Islamic writing (for the Muslims) among other writing exercises. To register/payment or inquiries contact: 0704 731 560.

P.S If you can’t attend you can sponsor someone else so they can benefit as well 🙂

Another is the event on mental health. Check the poster below:

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Inspiration

FROM WHERE YOU STAND

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You have grown up being told you need to be number one in class. You need to win that competition. You need to aim for world-wide accomplishments. Be a billionaire. Get a house or a palace. Get a car. Leave a legacy that will be remembered throughout the continent. Become  the next Nelson Mandela or Oprah Winfrey or Mother Theresa. You were shown that success means releasing a best-seller book into the market, owning an empire and being invited to important events to give a speech. It means people knowing you and asking for your autograph without you introducing yourself. People would ask for selfies and post them on their snapchat and Instagram on how excited they are to meet you. You were tuned into believing that you have to be the best at what you do  for you to be considered an achiever. Break the Guinness world record. Innovate something. Make the AIDS cure. They never spoke these words to you directly, at least not always, but somehow, the system, the media, the people’s small talk made you believe so. You believed them.

Today I want to tell you a different tale; a different narrative to the same story. It is good to have dreams, to have goals, to aim high. It is good to look up to something, to leave a legacy and have an impact on people. But it is also okay to have a simple yet extra ordinary life.

Dear, you are okay where you are. You are awesome for being the best son in the world. Your soul is terrifically beautiful for helping out your old neighbour every day. You are amazing for being your family’s bread winner. You deserve a gold medal for being a loyal friend. You are admired immensely for being a good husband/wife. You are loved for being the most wonderful mother. You will be remembered for your ever-smiling face. You are appreciated for being a hard-working employee. Your kindness can never be under-estimated. If you die today, someone or more people will miss you beyond measure. All that you do; all these things that seem small and obligatory for you are what actually matters. Keep dreaming, keep moving forward but if the doctor told you you have a few days to live, never under-estimate these tiny yet beautiful actions you’ve been doing all your life.

Who cares if you are not a social media influencer but you are the best gift your mother ever had? Who cares if less people know you in real life but your friends appreciate you a great deal? Who cares if your book isn’t being sold worldwide if it has completely changed one person’s life? Who cares if you haven’t broken the world record if the next-door cats treasure you for the food you feed them? Who cares if you don’t own an empire if you are the sole reason for someone’s happiness? Who cares if you under-performed at school if you are best artist around?

Go big, go far but never underrate yourself for where you stand at the moment. Cherish yourself, value your efforts. You are good enough just as you are.

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Creative Fiction

HE IS LISTENING

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You are standing by the window, watching the raindrops hit your windowpane before touching the ground. The rain is rhythmic; you love its predictability, unlike your life. Your life needs a Sherlock Holmes to solve the unending mystery. Every other day, you seem to have a surprise stored for you. It makes you wonder whether you are a guinea pig of a social experiment. Perhaps some scientists just want to find out how much can a human being handle when in distress. You can almost hear their voices on the opposite side of the windowpane. They are using a lot of scientific jargon and psychological terms as they scrutinize you. You don’t really understand what they are saying but you know you are the subject of interest. Perhaps if this experiment and the theory works, you’ll become rich from what they’ll pay you. A happy guinea pig. You smile then sigh.

From afar, you hear your neighbour sobbing. There is a lot of commotion and shouting going on. Her husband is beating her up. Your heart aches a little more. Then you sigh again. Life is miserable, you think. They had been married for ten years; happy and blessed with six children. Then he re-married and boom! everything shattered. It wasn’t the re-marrying that brought the problems per se, it was the attitude towards his family. Life is scary like that. People change, love fades off, evil is real and the world is yet to end. Or you are the one who can’t wait for your own end.

Your father left your mother while you were two months old and she was critically ill. You are lucky to be here. There was a time you almost became homeless, you almost dropped out of school, you almost became malnourished, your mother almost died, YOU almost died; twice in fact. You look at the marks of the razor that went through your hand skin. You look at the scars skillfully and very carefully hidden under the famous Kenyan flag bracelet. You are lucky to be alive, with your mother and under a roof. You seem to have the nine lives of a cat or is it just life that loves you? Perhaps it is the scientists, pumping oxygen forcefully into you. They can’t lose their guinea pig.

‘I don’t want to be part of this social experiment anymore,’ you whisper to the virtual scientists. They look at you like you’re crazy. Like they want to shout on your face, ‘Do you know how much we’ve spent on you?! On this experiment?!’

You feel the burning sensation in your eyes. You force back the tears. ‘Wanaume hawalii’ (Men don’t cry) they say. You ask who? People. In the streets, the wazee in their barazas, youth on their Facebook posts. Real men don’t cry. You are tempted to ask how much tears can a man shed before he is regarded as ‘a useless man’ or even told, ‘You are no different from a woman’ Like a woman is a bad person. But you can’t ask because then, they’ll doubt your manhood.

You hear your mother groan in pain inside. It turns out she has leukemia. You’ve been jobless for the past five months. She’s been strong all along but strength at this point isn’t enough without the ridiculously expensive treatment she needs.

‘God? Can you hear me?’ You look up to the sky and gaze at it. Like you are waiting for a response from God. You and God, you have a strange relationship. Some nights, you stay up throughout, kneeling, begging, praying, crying in silence and talking to Him one on one. And sometimes, some days pass without saying a word to Him. Those days when you feel like He has abandoned you. When you feel like He doesn’t care about you. You get angry and ignore Him like a disappointed lover.

‘God, can you hear me?’ This time, you let the tears flow. It is night, no one will see your tears anyway. Your eyes have now become the Niagara falls. You had missed this. Talking to Him.

You remember this old man in your neighbourhood, he once told you, ‘Snap out of it; the self-pity. God is always there for everyone and anyone who calls out to Him.’ You slowly wipe the tears as you remember his most famous story that he narrates to you: ‘Job (Nabii Ayub A.S) didn’t die despite his severe illness. Abraham (Nabii Ibrahim) didn’t die despite being thrown into the fire.  Jonah (Nabii Yunus) didn’t die despite being swallowed by the whale. Joseph (Nabii Yusuf) didn’t die despite being thrown into the well. Jacob (Nabii Ya’qub) survived despite losing his son and his sight. And Ishmael (Nabii Ismael) survived despite the order that he is to be slaughtered. Whatever the test and turmoil you are in right now, God has a plan for you. Don’t give up on His mercy.’

You stare at the clear sky. It has stopped raining now and once again you call out, ‘God?’ Suddenly, you see a star, it twinkles. With tears in your eyes, you smile.

‘He is listening. God is listening!’

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Deen (Religion)

DON’T GIVE UP ON YOURSELF JUST YET

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Sometimes we look at our heap of sins, at our bad habits, at our personality flaws and think to ourselves, ‘At this age and time how will I ever change?’ We feel like there is no hope for us especially after we tried to change but we kept sliding back to our same old destructive habits. Yet there is always hope. Always. Allah S.W says ‘Do not despair from the mercy of Allah’. All we have to do is keep striving to be better individuals, keep praying for ourselves and others and watch Allah take us out of the trash pit.

A beautiful story of sheikh Malik ibn Dinar is just one of the proofs that Allah’s mercy is endless.

Malik ibn Dinar used to be an alcoholic and a highway robber. Everyone knew him for those traits until it became his identity. One day he comes across a poor man and a rich man trying to buy bread from another man. The man only had one bread remaining and just as the poor man paid for it, the rich man offered to pay quadriple the price for the same bread. The poor man said to the seller, “Please I really need the bread. My daughters will starve to death if they don’t get something to eat.” But the rich was still ready to pay more for the bread. Malik ibn Dinar was triggered by this and went to them whilst very angry. He paid the seller more than what the rich man had paid so that the poor man can get the bread. But the rich man still added more money. Malik added some more money again. It went on like that until the poor man got the bread. He then said to the poor man, “When your daughters eat tonight, tell them to pray for Malik ibn Dinar” and he went away.

Years went by and Malik was still an alcoholic and a robber. When he wanted to marry he couldnt get a wife because of his reputation. So he bought a slave, freed her then married her. He really loved his wife and God blessed them with a daughter called Fathima.

Malik was very attached to his daughter and vice versa. They had a very close bond. And sometimes when Malik was seated with Fathima on his lap while he drinks wine his daughter told him, “Father I dont like this. I hate this” referring to the alcohol. Malik knew that his daughter hated the wines and alcohol but he still couldn’t stop his bad habits.

A time came when Fathima became very ill and passed away at a very tender age. Malik was so shattered and was drinking even more now to forget his pain. He hadn’t slept for days and one time, he fell into deep sleep due to the excess fatigue.

In his sleep, he dreamt that it was the day of judgement and the world looked chaotic. A monster (in some narrations they say it was a huge snake) emerged and started running after him. Malik ran away but the monster was still running behind him. He reached a cliff and below him was jahannam and behind was the monster. He decided to go to another direction, still running. He arrived at the coast of an ocean and a very old man in a white robe was seated at the coast. He went towards him to ask for help but the old man was very frail and weak. He just pointed to Malik to a direction and Malik followed the way. He kept running, the monster still behind him until he reached to a hill with small beautiful cave openings. He saw children, girls at the entrance of the caves and he immediately knew these were the daughters of the poor man he bought the bread for. The girls started calling out “Fathima come save your father! Fathima come save your father!”

Fathima appeared and motioned to the monster and it faded away.
Then she said to him:
“My dear father, ‘Has not the time come for the believers (who indulge in sins) that their hearts should submit in all humility to the remembrance of Allah and to the truth which is revealed’ (Al-Hadeed:16)”. He was moved to tears and asked her “My dear child, what was this monster?” She said “It was your own evil deeds which had made it so strong that it was about to push you into Jahannam”. Heasked “And who was that white-robed old man?” She replied “That were your good deeds and you had made them so weak with your scanty good deeds that he could not help you against the monster(though he suggested to you a means of escape.)” One of the few good deeds was the one he helped the poor man get bread for his daughters.
His daughter then asked him, “Father isn’t it time yet to repent?” Then he woke up from his sleep saying, “Yes it is time. Yes it is time.”

He stood up and went to the masjid. The imam (it is said that it was Imam Shafii, Allahu a3lam) led the prayer and recited the same verse that his daughter had recited to him.
‘Has not the time come for the believers (who indulge in sins) that their hearts should submit in all humility to the remembrance of Allah and to the truth which is revealed’ Malik was weeping uncontrollably. After the prayers he went home, packed his clothes and went off to Madina to acquire deen knowledge. He thereafter became a very famous, pious and knowlegable sheikh who propagated Islam.

It is through his pain for losing his child that Malik ibn Dinar repented. Many times Allah puts us in a difficult situation or takes something beloved from us just to make us realize how much we need Him. So do not ever give up on yourself or even on someone else. This story of repentance is a reminder for us that the door of repentance is open to even the most devilish sinner.  Allah’s mercy remains endless and He guides whomsoever He wills. Keep working on yourself. Don’t be discouraged by your sins or by irrational thoughts that Allah will never help you or accept your repentance. Another lesson we get from Malik’s story is the importance of sadaqa and dua in a person’s life. You just never know when or how or what will lead to your/someone else’s guidance. May Allah guide us all. Ameen.

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Inspiration

I OWE MYSELF AN APOLOGY

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I have felt like this before. The inadequacy. The not-good-enough feeling. The ‘this-is-overrated-feedback’. Over and over again. Having been a bullying victim for a very long time, my self esteem has been crashed far too many times. The after-effect? Everything you do just doesn’t seem as good as everyone sees it. You will always look at things with a blind eye, through a broken mirror. So whenever you are praised for your accomplishments you feel that everyone else is exaggerating and you are the one who knows ‘its not such a big deal’ even when it is SUCH A BIG DEAL.

There’s this syndrome I came to learn about it’s called ‘The impostor syndrome’ whereby an individual has an inability to internalize their accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a “fraud”. Some common signs that someone may be feeling like an impostor are: Perfectionism, overworking, undermining one’s own achievements, fear of failure and discounting praise. For me this is too relatable because I know how many times I couldn’t sleep because my already finished work isn’t GOOD ENOUGH YET. So you end up overthinking, overworking and most of the times skipping meals. Now to avoid that whole scenario of people having high expectations or faith in you, you’d rather just discount your accomplishments and make them less than what they really are, just to avoid being seen as a phony.

As stated in the Wikipedia, people who suffer from impostor syndrome tend to reflect and dwell upon extreme failure, mistakes and negative feedback from others. If not addressed, impostor syndrome can limit exploration and the courage to delve into new experiences, in fear of exposing failure.

Sometime back, I wrote an article here’You are not a failure’ whereby I talked of how my failure in Maths and Chemistry still affected me way past high school 😀 (Here is the article if you haven’t yet read it: http://lubnah.me.ke/you-are-definitely-not-a-failure/ ) And this is how failure takes a toil on you when you have such a syndrome. Perfectionist much? 😀

So I’ve been working on myself for a while now; my self-love journey hasn’t been easy because one first needs to accept their flaws and twisted thoughts and dig deep into the mind to remove the trash. Last week I started posting on my instagram account short posts on the same: I owe myself an apology whilst mentioning my accomplishments and things I should be more proud of than I usually am. I realized, I really do owe my precious soul an apology for keeping it secondary to other people’s opinions.

You know how we are so excited when we have achieved something and we call our loved ones just so they can congratulate us and share our happiness? The same way we should congratulate ourselves first thing before anything else. Treat and pamper yourself to the occasion. I mean, you did great!

The reason I decided to make this public is that I know I am not the only one beating myself up for glitches and failures in my work or other aspects of my life, even when things were beyond my control or simply by undermining my real worth and value.

Now this is to challenge you to join me in doing this, even if you’d do it privately in a notebook or so, but just try it out. Write ten things you are really proud of about yourself (If you can make it a daily thing then the better! At least one thing per day! It could be an achievement or even something about your personality that deserves an applaud. Then at the end of it, apologize to yourself for not appreciating yourself well enough. Remember, we can’t wait for people to applaud for us. We need to do it ourselves first and whatever praise other people bring to us should just be complementary.

Remember:

*You deserve all the praise in the world for all your achievements; whether big or small.
*You are not defined by your ‘failures’.
*You are enough and good enough.

I’m applauding you 🙂

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Inspiration

THE MONEY WILL COME

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I was seated with a friend; a lady thirty years older than me (By the way, having older friends is one of the secrets to better growth no joke) and during our conversation about my career journey, I blurted out my thoughts aloud with a sulky face, “I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life.” She looked at me with an astonished face, “Do you even know how lucky you are that you got to start your dream journey so early?!”

So she went on to tell me her own personal story on how she quit her job after working there for 19 long years to pursue her goals. It was a crazy move because she was getting really good pay but decided to let it all go so she can do something she is passionate about. I just sat there with WOW written all over my face because she wasn’t someone you’d think struggled that much to be where she is. You know, the kind of people with a high intelligence, great network, wonderful resume, a name and an identity that makes her very respected. And it just marveled me so much because it just confirmed to me what I’ve always thought; that when you see someone you look up to and consider successful, do know they also had to sweat their way up to where they are.

Sometimes, I am sure of what I’m doing, I’m sure it is the right thing, I’m sure this is what I want until someone just comes out of nowhere to remind me what the society expects. So the narrow path the society expects you to follow is Primary school-Secondary school-University-Get a job-Get married-Do your masters-Have children etc etc and this path isn’t always fixed like this. Sometimes one thing comes before another. Like some get married before university, some do masters before they have children and all that. But then in the end, it is all about this common steps of life people expect you to do in life such that when you step out of the ‘system’, something is very wrong with you. It doesn’t make sense why you’d choose the far and wide path yet everyone else is taking the long and narrow one.

Anyway, as we went on with our conversation, my friend said, “Let me tell you something someone I consider my mentor told me when I informed her I am quitting my job. She said to me, ‘My girl, people will laugh at you. They will think you are crazy. They will say a lot of things, but just go for it. Go after what you are passionate about. THE MONEY WILL COME. Slowly, you’ll start getting clients and you will be fine.” So now I’m telling you the same thing. The money will come. It may be a long-term sacrifice and struggle but I believe you will break it through sooner or later in shaa Allah…”

What I’ve learnt is that the criticisms will never stop. You will remain a mystery because people just don’t understand what you are doing. You will make a lot of sacrifices. You will be BROKE. Did I say BROKE? Yes, you will come face to face with poverty. You will question your choices over and over again because those who took the long, narrow path are succeeding and leading good, comfortable lives. Your friends and age mates are already fulfilling their life ‘expectations’ while you are still trying to figure out who to approach to help you with this new project you want to do or who you can borrow some cash from so you can implement this other new idea. And people will think, ‘This one is always trying a new idea’. It will become hilarious for everyone, sometimes including you. You will be tempted to just settle for anything that comes your way and say, ‘At least I tried.’ Please don’t. You didn’t come this far to quit now. Not this time. Not in ever.

After that conversation, the phrase ‘The money will come’ kept ringing in my mind. Not because the money is the main objective of going after my dreams, but because it would mean I have finally reached the level of being the achiever I want to be. And I wanted to share this with you because I know I am not alone. The free spirits amongst us who are hungry to lead exceptional lives. So here I am telling it to you, ‘All these sacrifices you are making now? They will pay off. Everything will fall into place if you keep walking. Look at the horizon; the long-term benefit not what is just ahead of you. And yes…the money will come! In shaa Allah. And i’m leaving this with you so you can pass it forward to anyone who needs to hear it.

Dare to be different. Be unique, be brilliant. And keep praying. Someday, you will be real proud of yourself and your journey.

A toast to all the go-getters!

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CURVING MY NICHE

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Almost a week after the publication of ‘Unbroken Wings’, a friend texted me. We were basically internet friends; a fellow blogger and writer and we hadn’t met before. So she congratulated me for my first published book and then went on and said how she wants to be like me someday. After a pause she went on, ‘Life has been so rough. Today I sat in our office toilet crying for like half an hour. It was the only place to run to lol. Part of why I didn’t text earlier…and then the other part is like gosh girl. Look at people publishing books…’ I just listened to her and in my heart I was like, ‘Aww honey…but that isn’t the whole story!’ And I think of how many times we look up to people we assume have succeeded in life, and adore them a lot it tends to make us feel less capable or worthless? I know the feeling…

My first serious attempt to write was in class seven when daily nation had a writing competition of a saga for children. Every week I would take up the challenge but I would just take it to my English teacher to go through it. I went on doing so whilst he directed me and corrected me until one day I said to myself, ‘Until when will I just write for my teacher. Why not submit to the Daily Nation and see how that turns out?’ I did. I never really had any expectations because I was not really one of the best writers in my class. I had the most amazing English teacher who really encouraged us to be storytellers. He would always read the best compositions in class but I wasn’t really one of them. I was somewhere close there but still NOT there. So he would casually mention how my composition was good or sometimes really good but I don’t remember him reading my work in front of the class ever. Yet I still did it continuously, adamantly and persistently.

So my dad delivered my submission at the daily nation offices and a week later, my name was on the newspaper. I wasn’t the winner but they had acknowledged me amongst the youngest writers with strongest submissions. That elated me in ways I can’t define. I was just 12 by then but I decided that this is it. This is what I want to do for the rest of my life (after chemistry and biology shattered my dreams of being a pediatrician 😀 ).

Going into secondary school, I would write every.single.day like a maniac who could only survive by letting those ink drops fill the paper with words. I started writing my first short story, then my second short story then my third poetry collection. I was always writing. Classmates coming by everyday to my desk so that they can read the next paragraph of my story. Soon my friends would have to book to read first before anyone else because the readers were becoming many and it soon spread out to other classes. And despite all that, every time I would take part in a writing competition, I would go to the notice board, scroll down through the names one by one. My name would never be there. My heart would shatter and sometimes I would just sit down and let it sink in, cry, wonder…but why…’If my work was liked by my friends and colleagues, what was I doing wrong?’ I never found out.

I spent those years up and down trying to find publishers for my short stories. I was young and naive. I wouldn’t know who to go to or who to trust. Yet I still tried. Approaching publishers before they disappeared with no word ever again. So I just opted to bring in my friends to help me critique and edit my work. I was always changing, correcting, perfecting; too busy in the editorial club. One time while I was the editor in chief of the editorial club, I met my English teacher who also happened to be my class teacher, on the corridor. She asked me what I was working on and I said some school articles and she said, ‘If you’d put that kind of energy in your studies, you’d be very far in your performance.’ Now, I wasn’t a poor performer. I was an average student who almost worshiped the staff room from the number of visits to make inquiries. But I also knew what I wanted. I wanted to make an impact and my pen was my biggest tool I wasn’t going to give up on, any time soon.

During my final year, our editorial club patron literally had to beg for me to get the ‘Best Writer Award’ because they had entirely left it out. And when that was granted, my assistant was so pissed off and confronted me because ‘her work was better than mine and she deserved it more than I did.’ I went to take that award with a lump in my throat and my heart so heavy. I wasn’t even sure I deserved it.

After high school, everyone wanted me to do something else. ‘Do teaching, do business, do accounts…’ no one really cared that this was the path I had chosen. Having been raised in a county that barely appreciated talent especially writing and who weren’t avid readers, I struggled to block all the negativity being thrown at me (I am glad this is quickly changing now; has been for a while actually.) Yet I still went on to do Journalism and mass communication and managed to come out with First class. During my university years, I was always either making calls, or sending emails or discussing with teachers on how to create a career out of my writing talent. My job application letters to newspapers never got a response for a long while, at one time three of my classmates found me at the library writing another application letter so one of them said, ‘You’re always writing application letters. We are going to finish uni, get jobs and you’d still be writing those letters.’ They all laughed. It was supposed to be a joke so I just smiled. And don’t get me wrong, these were very close friends who helped me a lot before and even after this conversation. But then many people thought it was pointless trying too hard. My university colleagues were enjoying their youth while all they ever saw me do is write and send applications.

Well I did finally land an internship at Coast This Week paper which later on became my job for a year or so…before the paper died. Well it’s a long story but many MANY times after that, I got contracts and I was told I wasn’t good enough. Not creative enough. My work being rejected. My applications being rejected. Not winning competitions etc

It was only after nine years of trying to get my work out there that Unbroken Wings got published. I have been so familiar to failure, to being jobless, to getting soo close to success yet still not succeeding, to being clueless on how to move ahead for too long.

I made sure to meet this lovely writer and we talked for long hours and days. She is very talented this is not even a courteous gesture. Her writings are deep soul food I honestly believe she is a better writer than I am. I wanted her to know that everyone has their own journey. I might have reached here because I started way earlier but everyone gets to their destination in a different way, in a different timeline. Some get lucky and are recognized immediately for their work. Some get lucky, have some connections and make their way easy up there. Some have to struggle and others have to struggle more than others. Don’t look at someone’s achievements. Look at their journey. Ask for their untold stories. Talk to them of their failures and achievements. Yet still, never compare yourself to how far someone seems to have reached.

The truth, this is just the tip of an iceberg. I am not yet where I want to be. I am still struggling to be who I want to be. I wouldn’t have made it here if it weren’t for Allah then the many people along the way who gave me abundant support and love, I can’t thank them enough. As Paulo Coelho says, ‘And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it’.

I really hope whoever wishes to be like me becomes better than me. I hope God grants you the will, the ease and the strength to soldier on in whatever your goals and dreams are. Not necessarily writers only. All the best in your way up there 🙂

***

That aside, as I continue to curve my niche and pursue my goals, I have decided to start doing writing skills training for the Coastal population. Should I promise you it’s going to be educative and fun? You bet! In shaa Allah and the fee is very reasonable too! Check the poster below to have an idea about it.

P.S Jack Ma’s said: I told my son: You don’t need to be in the top three in your class, being in the middle is fine, so long as your grades aren’t too bad. Only this kind of a person (a middle of the road student) has enough free time yo learn other skills…) Now students/workers don’t get me wrong. Work hard in whatever you need to but all i’m saying here, don’t let what keeps your heart alive, die…Go after your dreams!!

Please do share the poster as much as you can and don’t forget to subscribe 🙂 Thanks in advance!

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