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EXORCISM; THE MOMBASA VERSION

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

Warning: This article is not for the faint hearts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Inspiration

READ THIS WHEN YOU ARE TIRED

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Photo Courtesy: stuffpoint.com

Can you hear that?

Is that your ridiculously slow heartbeat? Beating like it is being forced to do so. Like a lazy kid being pushed to wake up?

Can you feel that?

Your head thumping even while you are not sick. Your body aches yet you are as fit as never before. Listen keenly. Feel. Observe. It is your heart. It is tired. It is fatigued. It is in excruciating pain. It is hurting…and so is the whole of you.

But don’t we all get tired sometimes? Physically, yes but it doesn’t always start there right?

It starts with how stressed, sad, depressed you are. It is how tired you are of life. How you want to go somewhere very far and live alone. How you just want to disappear. How you wish to shut out everyone and anyone. How food is no longer attractive, not even your favourite Cheese cake. How time seems to be taking a casual walk like a tortoise. How everything seems to be dragging. So everything around you drags too, including your heart and your body.

You just want to get away because no one seems to understand you. Your hormones are reacting worse than those of a pregnant woman. You have excessive feels again and again. Sleep seems to be out of your dictionary at the moment, and when you finally get into that wonderland, you can’t help but sleep for 16 or 20 hours. If possible, you would have slept for the whole week or three consecutive months or for eternity?

Yes, you are that tired and you don’t know how to get out of your misery. You don’t even know if you really want to get out of it. You just yearn for the quite impossible things at the moment. Like sleeping for 25/7 or staying away from job the whole year or going for a holiday twice a year, every six months. You are exhausted…

But sit up a moment. Think about it. How long are you going to let yourself drown in this? Remember, however long you stay sinking in your own storm, you are still the only one capable of pulling yourself out.

One thing that drug addicts refuse to admit is that however much of ‘relaxation’ or ‘highness’ they enjoy from drugs, one thing is never going to change; your misery will still stay put where it has always been. The problems will still be there even if you decide to be on drugs the whole week or month. Because once the soberness starts striking in your head, you wouldn’t have made the situation any better. Instead, you got yourself one more problem of hangovers and addiction.

It is the same thing with you, even when you don’t use drugs. You let yourself get lost in your frenzy world, over-eating or starving yourself, not sleeping or spending your entire time in sleep, worrying, worrying and always worrying. Thinking, thinking and more thinking. But you gotta wake up right? Soberness will creep in like a ghost, reminding you of all the piles and loads of undone work. You gotta shake that misery off. You gotta face your troubles. You gotta do what you have to.

Remember that not always will you have someone to rub off your tears while you cry an ocean or shove you under the cold shower when you can’t even talk or hug you when having a panic attack. Sometimes you are all you got; Yourself.

So wake up now. Someone needs you. You need YOU. Sit up and think straight. Think of how to face your problems with bravery, patience and perseverance. Fix what you can fix and leave the rest to God. Just don’t let yourself sink again. Don’t let yourself be the definition of tired. You are capable of standing up and being what you always have been; strong.

Keep having faith. Better things coming in shaa Allah ?

 

 

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Creative Non-Fiction

LIFE IN THE STREETS

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Featured Image: Salem_Beliegraphy

Slideshow by: Lubnah Abdulhalim

When I first started my work in Gladshouse (an NGO dealing with the homeless) in 2014 and saw the pathetic state of street life, I thought I wouldn’t make it to the end. Surprisingly, I was happier than usual and I gained weight. My mum always kept asking, ‘what are they feeding you there that’s made you gain? I think I should let you stay there always.’ Well I wasn’t surprised by her surprise. Everyone who knows me well, knows that I only gain weight when I am very much relaxed; something I’m not really good at. And ironically, out of all the places I’ve been, this depressing place made me happy. One of the first things I was asked when I joined the team was, ‘Ain’t you scared?’ Yes I was. My colleagues had already told me of the risks available; they lie. They steal sometimes. They can be flirty when high on glue and sometimes even without the glue. Nonetheless, they respect you when you respect them. Treat them like normal human beings, come down to their level and act like their mate to understand them.
Perhaps it is true when they say, for you to find happiness; you should first offer it to someone else. I didn’t have any specific post for I was a teacher, a social worker, a journalist and a marketer all at the same time. I wasn’t particularly a hero or anything, yet I worked with the real heroes who worked day and night to ensure the homeless are not forgotten. Volunteers from all over the work coming over just to make a difference in someone’s life. It was more of an exposure and adventure to me; something I had never seen in my life. Something worth seeing, experiencing and telling the world about.

Just the other day, one of my many bosses bumped into me as I headed to work and he offered me a lift as he too was heading there. We stopped in a store and my boss alighted. Just a few minutes after, one of the homeless boys I knew came and knocked on my window pane. I hesitated; I didn’t know how my boss would react when he sees me talking to him so I decided to step out of the car.
“Do you remember me?” I asked almost in a whisper but he didn’t reply. He was high on glue I noticed so I didn’t bother ask my question again. I remembered his name; they call him Mowgli, a very thin guy almost always walking with a stagger. He had escaped from the center several times as he went through rehabilitation and he was among the oldest survivors in the streets. He wasn’t really old in age, just old in the streets. I never knew his real name though. You never get to know because they keep changing their names as much as they change their stories of survival. I also never knew why they call him Mowgli, perhaps he was like the Mowgli we know of from the jungle book or he just liked the story? I never knew. Anyway my boss appeared shortly after that and quickly asked, ‘is everything okay?’ Mowgli went away…and my boss wanted to know more of his story. Several times in different times, I met several others on the streets in town. They come to beg for money and I realize they don’t remember me. They perhaps meet so many volunteers and perhaps we never really impacted their lives as we thought we did or perhaps they are just too busy surviving. (Call them survivors. They prefer that name).You can’t really blame them. But I never forgot them and I remember a few names still. I remember them for they impacted my life more than I did to theirs. And most of all, I really miss that place.

When you walk around town and meet those small children running about to beg for money, most of them are not homeless. For someone who has experience with street life you can almost identify and pinpoint exactly who is a beggar and who is homeless. Most people don’t understand that; Not all beggars are street children and not all street children are beggars. Most of the children begging in town have homes and sometimes, healthy parents who have just decided that the shortcut to survival is using the kids. So they come all the way from their homes and spread across town. The children are sometimes threatened to bring a certain amount of money, if not, they face the consequences. They never want to admit how they are forced of course but when persuaded they speak out. It can be so depressing listening to them. They will tell you that their mum is on the other street and their other siblings in other parts of the town. True that most are from very poor families and some have single parents, yet it doesn’t justify the use of blackmailing children to gain money. And these kids are really experts in convincing. When it is on a Friday they will tell you, ‘Leo ijumaa nisaidie nikale’ or how they would tell you of not having fare going back home and they can be so persistent in begging for the money. Wonder what the consequence is when they don’t meet the required amount. Perhaps no food tonight? Or being beaten? Or what other kind of punishment? I remember what one of my lecturers told me when we were approached by a boy who was begging. “Never entertain the habit of beggars. Perhaps if we all stop giving them whenever, then they will be forced to work like the rest of the world.” Of course there are those very genuine beggars who really deserve to be helped but not the ones who use their children as a source of money. For a while now, I detest walking in town, seeing all those children rushing to cars and people and insisting on getting something. I detest seeing them being used like that yet I am helpless so I just close my heart; (if there is anything like that), close my eyes and my ears. Walk as fast as I can as I still debate what exactly is the right thing to do; give them the money they are blackmailed for, or simply not entertain the bad habit of begging?

The homeless people on the other hand lead quite a different life. Some are beggars yes but when you go to the slum area where they live, you would see most of them hustling in one way or another. Some collecting garbage, some collecting bottles, some are conductors and many other of these petty jobs. You won’t believe this, but one fellow in the street even has a video room where they play movies and he charges his fellows for entrance. Some wear so neatly that you may never guess that they are homeless. The ladies are most of the times prostitutes and some give birth right in the street. I remember one of the very young girls in the street told me that the past three generations have lived in the streets; her grandmother, her mother and now her and her many siblings. Many girls are raped and used by men at very young age. It is so heart breaking when they tell you their journeys. Well some are very well-fabricated stories that can make you break down in tears. Damn they can lie! They know how to make you so empathetic and make you want to offer your entire life for their sake. But for the social workers they’ve known for years, they are able to play with their psychology and know their true stories. Some are so addicted to street life that they can no longer stay out of it. They are taken to centers for rehabilitation but end up running back to the street; they can’t live without the glue and many other of the practices only allowed in the street.

Years on after leaving the organization, I learnt that their ‘leader’ who used to take control of everything going on in their slum area (the place is called Maboxini because of the houses made of boxes I suppose) used to sodomize the young boys. I was shocked, perplexed, surprised, disgusted all at once. The same man whom we had trusted to take us around the slum area safely; the man everyone outside and inside the slum area had faith in. The same man who was considered the hero of slum land. The same man who was the hope of the children turned out to be a beast. I got to hear more of such heart breaking stories in the streets. Very small girls being made wives to big boys and of families separated by fate. Stories of boys and girls who couldn’t stay in foster care due to drug addiction. Stories of stigma and isolation by the society etc etc. There is a wall right at the end of the slum land; a huge wall separating them from a totally different world. On the other side is a playground where private school children come to play. And sometimes, standing on slum land, you could see the swings moving high up and down rhythmically. I used to wonder how it really feels for the street children who used to sit right on top of the trees and seeing all that; what are their thoughts in such moments? Perhaps, ‘this could be me?’ or ‘maybe some day this would be me in a private school, neat uniform and a huge smile as I swing and play?’ Sigh. But perhaps what made me relaxed with them was how happy they were despite their very sad state of living; how they play football of no rules. The games are quite funny, how the ball keeps going over the fence because some are high on glue and kick the ball with so much vigour and how the games are played with all age ranges and genders. How they would eat so excitedly and ask questions as they are taught the basics of education. How they would be concerned about their homeless mates who are locked up in cell. How they really really appreciate the food in their plates. How they never hesitated to show their gratitude to the volunteers who have dedicated their lives to help them. There were some good stories as well; like how one of the oldest boys in the street got to meet his mum after 20 years of separation by the efforts of Gladshouse, stories of street children going through rehabilitation and joining school again, stories of children being taken in foster homes and living well, stories of street world cup, stories of survival and hope. How they find joy and happiness in the smallest of things. By the time you leave that place, you know the real meaning of hope, struggle and perseverance. I remember talking to one dumb boy who was in the street world cup team. I interviewed him right before they left to Brazil. Can you believe it? Some people out there make it possible for street children all over the world to meet on a football tournament! and in Brazil!! You can imagine their excitement. So my interview with him was on written paper and in English because they are only taught in English in the special care schools. It was one of the cutest interviews I ever did I my life!

I made the above clip right before the world cup team left to Brazil for I was completing my attachment too. I remember how the CEO broke down in tears after seeing it. Amazing right? Amazing and amusing how someone who has dedicated her entire life to street children still cries for them. When I showed the clip to the boys, they were really excited about it. Well, majority don’t understand English so they didn’t really get what the clip was about but they kept laughing at their photos and shouting out the names of their colleagues. It made me overjoyed.

Working here, I saw humanity being restored. I saw love being painted on a dirty patch of white paper. I saw rainbows of hope and flowers of faith in a place where a seedling would never bloom. I learnt to appreciate life and most importantly, that no one should never under estimate what you can do for people less advantaged than us. Take part in restoring humanity today. Make a difference.

Still, I miss these beautiful souls.

#The best way to find yourself is in the service of others. -Mahatma Gandhi

If you liked this article then you might also like: “The tender forgotten side of the assumed devils” and ‘a ray of hope’ right here in my site. Don’t hesitate to ‘search’ for it.

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Inspiration

BE HAPPY PLEASE

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Photo Courtesy: http://images2.fanpop.com/

The situation of our current world is just pathetic; wars, bloodshed, diseases, brutality, criminality, you name it. The list could go on forever. You look at Palestine and you feel the pinch but then you look at your own country and you find misery too, just of a different kind. If the pain, agony and sadness around the world could be painted then perhaps we would have a totally black painting with just one dot in white to represent humanity, happiness and joy. Every continent, every country, every city and every person is fighting a battle of their own. Sometimes we get too empathetic over what others are going through that we forget our own pain, our own struggles. How many times have you had a full plate of very palatable food yet your appetite betrays you with the thought, ‘children in Syria are dying with hunger, I don’t deserve this food. I don’t deserve this privilege’ and you just don’t feel like eating anymore. You look at Yemen and see another disastrous view. You look at Iraq, Nigeria, our own Kenya and you are just too helpless. Too much corruption, too much cruelty by our own leaders, too much poverty, hunger and gloom. You really really REALLY wish you could help but you just have no way. You want to go out and have fun but you see the children spread out all over the town begging and you feel, ‘how selfish am I to be happy when others are too sad, in too much anguish?’ Then it goes down to a personal level. You see that very lovely friend of yours fighting with cancer and just when you are about to do something for yourself, that punch of guilt comes in. And even when you decide to forget the entire world, you find the same grief in your own soul. Then comes the question, why is life just too distressful?

For a long while I was a victim of my own empathy but then I came to realize that truly, God never gives you pain unless that which you can handle. No, don’t say that is just a saying. This, is really true. I see my own siblings living in Yemen and they tell us of the scary nights where they can hear bombs nearby, where they can see the great infernos, the gunshots. They literally count the bombs being drop and their texts could go like, ‘they just threw the first…second…third…fourth…please pray for us…’ then they go offline. You are just left with frozen blood and you just can’t sleep till the morning to hear from them that they are okay. But they are still living!! They cook good food when they can, go to the village, shop, laugh, make jokes and despite everything else, they are grateful to be alive. They cry when they have to but they also enjoy life whenever they can. We see the examples of the Palestinians and we just admire their bravery and how strong they are; living in half houses for the other half is already down yet they are grateful for each morning. And their smiles could make you tear up. It makes you wonder, ‘how do they afford to smile with the kind of life they are living?’ But their firm faith and patience is because God has already said it that He will never over burden any of His servants. Don’t you trust God?

It’s good to be humane, to be empathetic but don’t let it take over your own life. Don’t make it neglect your own soul which needs so much care as well. Whatever problem you are going through, do know it will not last and most importantly, have faith that God will not let your grief last forever. This is your test so be patient please. Give your heart the attention you offer other people. Love yourself and have fun whenever you can. Cry when you feel like it but also don’t forget to smile and laugh. There is so much in life to look up to and anticipate. There might be too much suffering all over the world but there are also so many people who are doing great things. There are so many doctors who dedicated their lives to saving lives in war-torn areas, there are so many humanitarians helping different people, there are so many comedians dedicating their lives to make people like you smile. There are so many writers, poets, artists, photographers trying to create hope by their art. There are so many people creating a difference in other lives. Yes, even in this cruel world, there is still so much to be happy for. So never hesitate to be happy. Be happy always. Smile like you just won a lottery. Help other people like you have no problem of your own. Treat yourself to ice cream or pizza or whatever it is that you like. It doesn’t have to be your birthday or any celebration and if anyone asks you ‘what is the treat about?’ Do reply, ‘I am celebrating myself.’ I know circumstances sometimes don’t really allow you to treat yourself but you can do anything else that makes you happy; take a walk on the beach shore, paint, go for a boat ride, Swing, dance, anything! Create your own bucket list; your own personal wishes that only involve YOU and how to make YOU happy. Create it like you have just a few days in this life and live it up. Empty that bucket list. As for the rest of the world, don’t worry excessively about them. God has never forgotten His servants right? So remember them in your prayers always. Pray that God eases their battles…and yours too.

Don’t let the pain engulf you. Be patient. Appreciate life. Pray sincerely. Help others. Have Faith. Be hopeful. But most importantly, Be Happy Please 🙂

happiness2

Photo Courtesy: http://exploringpsyche.com/

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Deen (Religion)

WHICH OF YOUR LORD’S FAVOURS WILL YOU DENY??

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Photo Courtesy: Unknown

While some people are born in the luxury of a rich family someone else is born in the streets.
While some people are lucky enough to have been breastfed by their mothers, some don’t know their mothers’ names. While some people are born to a fancy life of bread, cheese and butter, some are born with Kwashiorkor and Marasmus.
While some are born to immediately learn the world of internet, cartoons and play station, some are born to learn the world of drought, hunger and poverty.
While some people’s biggest problem is not knowing what latest car model they should buy, some people can’t even define in words which is their biggest problem.

We tend to take so many things in our lives for granted; like how much Allah has blessed us. Not just blessed us but REALLY blessed us. We complain and whine over the small tests sent to us yet we forget about the people less advantaged than us. However hard your battle is, do know there are millions of people facing harder problems than you are. Keep reminding yourself of the people in Syria, Palestine, Iraq, Yemen; people who have never seen fireworks in their lives except the fire from bombs and grenades. Remind yourself of people in drought areas, people living in what they call a ‘house’ yet all rain pours in. Remind yourself of the homeless and the ones fighting for their lives in hospitals.

Indeed we are ungrateful beings SubhanaLlah. Who are we to even think about complaining let alone speak it out? We keep denying God’s favours and once we succeed, we walk tall forgetting by whose grace we are where we are. We forget where we came from; where we started. We forget to help those more unfortunate than we are; we forget that this world is nothing but a number of days. We forget that Allah never charged us for His air, for our hearing or our sight.

While you get really annoyed because you couldn’t get the dinner you wanted, or your payment is late do remember that many wish they could have anything to eat or even money to wait for. Do know you ARE indeed lucky; luckier than those who consider themselves lucky. And ironically, the people suffering mostly are the ones appreciating the smallest of things in their lives; treasuring the fact that they are alive, that they have their limbs or that they have their parents with them. Because for them, they very well understand that this is a test from Allah and that they will be paid for their patience. They remain strong and have faith in Allah and all their tongues utter is ‘alhamdulilah ala kul hal’. While those of us with greater blessings, we forget everything at the smallest test we get into.

May Allah guide us and grant us patient hearts and souls that help others more and more. May He easen all our troubles and for all mankind who are going through more difficult times than we are.

Parting shot: Which of your Lord’s favours will you deny??

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Deen (Religion)

MERCY OF ALL MERCIES

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Photo Courtesy: https://4.bp.blogspot.com/

 

I looked at the beautiful sea in front of me and took a deep sigh. This is going to be my last time to ever see this wonderful scenario. This is going to be the end of me, the end of all my sins, the end of everything…I took a step forward and climbed over the first metal rail of the bridge. The wind was softly slapping my face as the tears went on flowing. Then a soft little hand held my shoulder and said, “Don’t do it!”

I turned around in surprise and in front of me was a little girl. She looked so messy and in rags. I looked at her deep brown eyes which seemed so happy and content. Without a word, I turned back to the ocean ahead of me but the hand firmly pulled me aside.

Looking into my eyes, she said: “what could be the worst that could have happened?”

“You won’t understand little girl. Please let me do this peacefully.”

The little girl didn’t let me go and insisted to hear my answer.

“I have done a lot of sins and God will never forgive me…now, will you please let me go?”

“Allah (SW) says: “Say: “O ‘Ibadi (My slaves) who have transgressed against themselves (by committing evil deeds and sins)! Despair not of the Mercy of Allah, verily Allah forgives all sins. Truly, He is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful.” (az-zumar: 53)

“But my mother died because of me…I am to blame. She passed away after getting the news that I’m pregnant.”

“Allah (SW) says: “Everyone is going to taste death, and We shall make a trial of you with evil and with good, and to Us you will be returned.” (an-biya’a: 35)My mother died while giving birth to me, should I take the blame?”

I looked at her in more surprise.

“I regret all that happened and I want to repent but I don’t know where to start from. Will God ever forgive me?”

“Allah (SW) says: “…Then when you have taken a decision, put your trust in Allah, certainly, Allah loves those who put their trust (in Him).” (al-imran: 159)

“But I am so lonely, with no one at all.”

Allah (SW) says “ And indeed We have created man, and We know what his ownself whispers to him. And We are nearer to him than his jugular vein (by Our Knowledge).” (qaf: 16) I have been in the streets but I have never felt lonely because I know Allah is with me.”“Right now I am so restless and confused.”

“Allah (SW) says: “…Verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest” (ar-rad: 28)“But I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“Allah (SW) says: “ And your Lord said: “Invoke Me, [i.e. believe in My Oneness (Islamic Monotheism)] (and ask Me for anything) I will respond to your (invocation)…” (ghafir: 60) and He also said: “Therefore remember Me (by praying, glorifying, etc.). I will remember you…” (baqarah: 152)

“Where will I live now? How? With what money? can you answer me that?”

“Allah (SW) says: “…And whosoever fears Allah and keeps his duty to Him, He will make a way for him to get out (from every difficulty).” (At-talaq: 2) I’ve been in the streets and I’ve never slept hungry.”

I was so touched by the girl’s words then I asked her,

“Where did you learn all this while you are in the streets?”

“From my father before he died too.”

I stood quietly for a moment. What had I done throughout my 18 years? I had all the love from my parents but I never appreciated it. I had all the wealth to help street children like these but I never did. I had all the chances to acquire such knowledge of my Lord but I never bothered and now, I have to hear it from a little girl like this, what a shame!”

The girl suddenly interrupted my thoughts,

“Go find your life, surely Allah (SW) has written a share of the world for you…and never forget, Allah (SW) says: “And those who, when they have committed Fahishah (illegal sexual intercourse etc.) or wronged themselves with evil, remember Allah and ask forgiveness for their sins; – and none can forgive sins but Allah – And do not persist in what (wrong) they have done, while they know.” (Al-imran: 135) Repent, pray, love, share and you’ll have all the happiness you need; just like me.” The little girl left without any other word and I just realized, there was a lot of good I could do to myself than committing suicide. I turned away from the ocean and looked ahead of me- God loves me and I know He will forgive me, guide me and grant me my needs with His will…

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