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IF RESILIENCE WAS A BEING

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I do not consider myself a proud Kenyan nor do I say, ‘Navumilia kuwa Mkenya’. Let’s just say, Kenya has its moments. More like a love-hate relationship filled with spontaneous mood swings; 0-100 real quick! There’s a lot to be sad about and even more to be angry for. I mean, we are the kind of country whereby you study four years of Journalism only to spend the next three years searching for a job in the media while a comedian ends up swooping that same job you’ve been craving at a radio station. To be fair, the comedians also struggle in their own way to get where they get to but it becomes illogical when these opportunities are not fairly and equally spread out among the masses. Definitely, ours is the ‘survival is for the fittest’ kind of economy whereby the resources are so limited, we are all trying to grab this one opportunity available.

It is that kind of country you graduate Engineering with honours but end up selling water within your neighbourhood, or even worse, you have to stand with a placard at the middle of the highway, stating your qualifications so that hopefully, JUST HOPEFULLY, someone isn’t too busy complaining about the traffic jam or the poor water drainage system and reads your placard. Thereafter, this someone is placed within his/her the grace of the Lord and decides to help you in some way. Or rather, take your photo and tweet about it. The power of social media I tell you!

It is also the kind of country where someone with no education whatsoever could end up being more successful than you’d ever dream to be because they know someone who knows someone who is in power or, they are super talented at sucking money out of people’s bank accounts in open day light. Yes, corruption and conning is in our country, a job of its own calibre. I am still talking of the unemployment disaster because it is really really bad out here. I mean, REALLY bad. 

Now don’t get me started on the cost of living, the economy, the health industry, the plight of the lower class, the struggles of the youth…the list is endless. Kenyans are sufferers; at least the majority are. A few months back, the form fours completed their final examinations with shouts and screams of joy, spraying the walls and their uniform with colours; they just ended what they call ‘a stressful era’ and all Kenyans can think of is ‘Should we tell them the truth or should we wait wapumzike? *Insert many laughing emojis*’ I mean, that alone says a lot about the despair Kenyans are at. We are mostly hopeless of our country than we are hopeful.

But here’s the thing about Kenyans: we are the most resilient beings. It amazes me. It awes me. Kenyans make fun of their own misery such that it gives them strength to actually push on to the next day. Kenyans live on the spirit, ‘Our lives are so much a tragedy, it has become a comedy.’ We laugh a lot. We perhaps make the best come-backs, best replies on twitter and memes of every other event that happens. We make jokes about our ridiculous leaders. We joke about the cost of living. We joke when we are robbed, singing ‘bella Ciao’ like a bank didn’t just lose millions. We joke when we cry. We joke when we succeed. We joke when we fail and when everything seems to be at dead end. People would call us insane just by the way we react with laughter at E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. Yet in my opinion, this kind of spirit is what makes Kenyans stand tall and walk through the storm despite the odds. We laugh because despite saying ‘this is life’, we still wake up the next morning to try again, make protests and demands on the streets, make noise, call out to the leaders, fail, fail miserably, yet we will do it again next morning.

Amidst all the despair and hopelessness, we create our own happiness. We see a man eating his githeri from a plastic bag throwing them into his mouth like groundnuts whilst waiting in queue to vote, and we decide ‘hey! That is something!’ And there came about the hashtag #GitheriMan who ended up uniting and bringing us laughter at a very tense period. We all tune in on TV to watch Eliud Kipchoge take on the ‘No Human is Limited’ challenge and we all leave everything aside, to watch history being made. To watch a fellow Kenyan shine because God knows, we desperately need a win. Soon after, we make ‘No Human is Limited’ memes because we are Kenyans and we thrive on laughter. We see our president look up in the sky at the planes being displayed during Mashujaa day at the revamped mama Ngina drive and we decide to quote it as ‘Na hii hapa juu, Mheshimiwa Rais, ni gharama ya maisha *Insert laughing emojis*’ We still retweet hilarious posts by fellow Kenyans with the hashtag #KenyaSihamiiii. We stand together with King Kaka as he performs his #WajingaNyinyi spoken word, giving us all something to ponder on.

We come together to mourn during tragedies and we celebrate our fellow Kenyans whenever we get a chance to. We left all our differences aside when Miriam Kighenda and her 4-year old daughter drowned at the Likoni Ferry tragedy, we prayed for them and mourned the loss. When the Ethiopian airlines crashed, we were devastated. The loss was unfathomable and we cried together. Just as much as we come together every Olympics and marathons to celebrate our very talented athletes, breaking records every now and then.

I don’t think we are at a good place as a country. The misery definitely supersedes the good done for Kenyans. However, we can’t close our eyes to how brilliant and strong Kenyans are. We fall, again and again and again. But we always, always find a way to survive. We innovate. We come together. We stand up for our rights. We make demands. We start our own businesses. We hope despite the hopelessness. We help when we can. We make a difference in our communities. Yet most importantly, we have learned how to find laughter even in the darkest of moments.

Life is definitely tough, not just for Kenyans but many other Africans as well. Politics is a dirty game. Our leaders are mostly a huge fail. Opportunities are like a blue moon. But if resilience was a human being, then Kenyans would be it!

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Deen (Religion)

RAMADHAN EDITION: AYAHS THAT MELT THE HEART (1)

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Image Courtesy of: https://depositphotos.com

There are so many profound, thought-provoking ayahs within the Qur’an. Add that with a heart-warming recitation of Islam Al Sobhi or Mansur Al Salimi and your heart just melts away. It could bring you to tears when you actually ponder the verses and reflect on them. I will share with you some of my favourite ayahs and I hope they bring meaning to your life just like they do for me.

1.

I love this ayah a lot and I refer to it all the time. Because it answers all the questions we have no answers to. All the uncertainties, all the doubts, the questions of ‘why?’ Why did I fail despite working so hard? Why do good people go through the worst? Why did I go through such an ugly divorce despite being a good wife? Why don’t I have children? Why does God allow bad things to happen? Why is this happening to me? Why me? WHY WHY WHY…This is the answer right here.  ‘Do the people think they will be left to say they believe and not be tested?’  I leave this here as food for thought because we could write an entire book about this one ayah.

2.

“Jugular vein, is any of several veins of the neck that drain blood from the brain, face, and neck, returning it to the heart via the superior vena cava. If you block the jugular veins, the pressure in the brain goes up. The jugular vein system is essential and is found fairly deep in the body.”

Now Allah (S.W) makes us aware that He is THAT close to us and MORE. He knows what is going on within us; when our hearts are filled with envy, when we have lowly desires, when we are breaking, when we are hurting, our true intentions; ALLAH KNOWS. Because He created us, how can He not know? This should make us both fear Him and trust Him. Fear Him because He is aware of all that goes on within us; the good, the bad and the ugly, even when we conceal it from the entire world. Trust Him because He knows when we are in pain, when we want His help, when we are striving to be better human beings. HE KNOWS of all that is within you. He is listening, He is watching, He is with you always. ALLAH KNOWS…

3.

Think for a moment of your happiest day. The day you felt elated the most. Think of that day then now reflect on this day. Allah (S.W.) tells you that THIS LIFE is nothing but diversion and play. That happiness, that joy, that ecstatic feeling is NOTHING compared to what Allah (S.W.) has in store for us in Jannah. Picture how much happier you can actually be in the next life if you do make it.

Now think of your saddest moment in life. The day your soul crumbled. The worst time of your existence. Think of that then reflect on this ayah. Allah (S.W) is reminding you that this life is NOTHING. That this material life is useless and pointless. He is telling you that what you see in this life, all that you yearn for, all that you ache for, is temporary and cheap. That this dunya is a cheap game. Don’t you want more? Don’t you want what’s real? What’s eternal? Jannah. Aim for that instead.

4.

“أَلَمْ يَأْنِ لِلَّذِينَ آمَنُوا أَن تَخْشَعَ قُلُوبُهُمْ لِذِكْرِ اللَّهِ وَمَا نَزَلَ مِنَ الْحَقِّ وَلاَ يَكُونُوا كَالَّذِينَ أُوتُوا الْكِتَابَ مِن قَبْلُ فَطَالَ عَلَيْهِمُ الْأَمَدُ فَقَسَتْ قُلُوبُهُمْ وَكَثِيرٌ مِّنْهُمْ فَاسِقُونَ”

Allah (S.W.) is asking you dear believer, has the time not come for YOU to submit to Allah? Has the time not come? What are we waiting for? The sun rising from the west? Malakul maut standing in front of us? Till when will we delay giving in to what truly brought us to this earth? Till when it is too late? Till our hearts become hard and the word of Allah does not affect us anymore? It is high time. It is high time.

5.

I grew up hearing this ayah all the time from my mother and father (alhamdulilah for my parents). They literally made me SEE this with my own eyes. Whenever my parents were stuck at any matter, they would always, always refer this ayah to us. It always awed me, how they believed that much yet Allah never failed to respond to them. One door would close, another would open. Another would open and the previous would close. Whenever my mother needed anything and she had absolutely no way out, she would still say it confidently, ‘Allah will bring a way’ or mostly, ‘لَا تَقْنَطُوا مِنْ رَحْمَةِ اللَّهِ’ (Do not despair of the mercy of Allah) and I swear, Allah would always bring a way even if it was dead in the night. This wasn’t just with provision and money, but any kind of difficulty we faced. And through my parents, I learnt to trust that Allah will never forsake me so long as I have faith in Him.

There was a time I was at the matatu stage and I was feeling unwell. I just had two hundred shillings with me and there was no way I could go to the hospital with 200 bob. Also, I was supposed to be somewhere in town and that’s the same I needed for the fare. Nonetheless, I said I will tawakkal. I went to a nearby hospital in which the doctor has treated our family through out the years. So I walk in to the reception and she asks whether I had a card. The card was more than 4 months old and the hospital had a system where you had to renew the card every 3 months. So when I gave her the card, she was awed by how neat and new the card still looked and said, ‘Because you kept this very well, I won’t ask you to renew one now. You can go in and see the doctor.’ I go in and talk to the doctor for a while about my condition. At the end, I ask him how much it would cost. Remember, with me I just have two hundred shillings. Which doctor takes 200 shillings anymore?! The doctor looks at me and says, ‘You don’t have to pay anything. Take this prescription and buy the meds’. And that was it. I still got to go to both the hospital and my destination in town. Tell me, how is that even possible without Allah’s mercy? Coincidence? I bet not.

This doesn’t mean I am pious. Far from it. Nor does it mean I feel better than others, walyadhu billah. But I just wanted to show this example how Allah actually and truly gives you a way out when you have faith in Him.

There is a lady who lacked anything in her house some years back. It was Ramadhan like it is now and she met her neighbour on the way. As we know our culture here in Mombasa, we’d ask, ‘Leo wapika nini futari?’ (what will you cook today for iftaar?’ The lady laughed and said, ‘Iftaar? I don’t even have the tiniest bit of salt let alone prepare any meal.’ Her neighbour immediately offered some little cash, but this lady knew that her neighbour was struggling just as she is. So she respectfully declined, thanked her and said, ‘God will bring a way’. She headed back home and upon opening the door, the entire seating room was filled with food items. The lady was shocked and asked her then jobless husband, ‘where did all this come from?’ The lady was a teacher and several parents of her students had brought her the food. The lady was so moved, she had to sit down to get a hold of herself. Tears were rolling down her eyes, awed by how good our Lord is.

Sadly, so many of us, Allah favours us in this same way, yet we never even recognize it. We become so blinded with this material life and forget who actually has been above it all; helping us, paving ways for us, removing blocks on the path. We assume we have what we do because we worked for it or because we deserve it. However, if you look keenly, you will know for sure, it is ONLY by ALLAH. Ask anyone who’s had it rough in life and eventually arose, they’ll tell you, ‘Ni Mungu tu…’

***
Ramadhan Mubarak to you my dear reader. May Allah accept our good deeds, forgive us, guide us, relieve our worries and doubts, protect us from Nar and grant us His mercy to see Him on the day of Judgement. May Allah grant us health, contentment, peace of mind and willingness to keep on striving on this earth. Ameen.

May Allah accept this as sadaqa jariya for me and my parents who’ve been my greatest example and role models on how to rely on Him alone. May Allah forgive them all their short-comings and grant them the highest level of jannah. Ameen.

Please do include me in your duas and stay tuned for part 2 in shaa Allah!

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Deen (Religion)

WE DIE HOW WE LIVED

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I think one of the scariest things in this life is that our daily actions and the things we dedicate our time to, do dictate to a certain extent how our end will be. This is not even science, it is logic. Have you ever seen how when someone dies we almost never miss to check their social media accounts and exclaim at their last posts? Sometimes we talk of how it is a strange coincidence that the last thing they posted was about death or pain or doing good deeds. But these things are never coincidences. Most of the times, if you check even the past posts of the same person you’d see similar posts. It is only that we mostly take notice of what someone said after they are gone for good (sadly).

So here comes the logic: If you love posting about food or fashion or even Islamic reminders there’s a high probability the last post before your death will be the same. If you spend 80% of your time reciting qur’an, then there’s quite a high probability that you will die reading the book of Allah and if you spend most of your time with earphones on and loud music popping, there’s also that probability you’d die in that same way. It is never a guarantee but we also can’t entirely dismiss this. One would think, what’s the big deal if I died with my earphones on? The big deal is that you’ll be resurrected in front of your Lord, not in sujood, or on a trip to do charity but in the sinning process. With what face do you stand before your God?Of course our Lord is the most Merciful and despite all our frequent sins, He is always ready to forgive us. But are we ready to accept our mistakes and repent sincerely? For how long will we be in denial?

We are living in this ridiculous century whereby everyone is ‘holier than thou’ or otherwise in the ‘don’t judge me’ phase. We always tend to forget that we are human beings and it is natural for us to sin and make mistakes but what then do we do? We deny. We deny that our lifestyles are filthy and our eyes are blinded by the materialistic world. We deny that we need to take a step back and think hard about our words and actions. We deny that we are being irresponsible and immature to think that God will JUST somehow forgive us even when we don’t try to change and sincerely repent.

I’ve seen several videos that show sudden deaths; someone died in sujood, another died in Makkah while doing hajj, another died while reciting qur’an in front of a large crowd…and yet still I’ve seen clips of people who’ve died while dancing, others who died on stage while singing and even while stealing. Yes, you read it right. A thief who died in the process of stealing. How scary is that? These people probably thought they’ll have an entire lifetime ahead of them; to enjoy life, to be happy and probably get close to God at some point? Well, tomorrow is not promised to anyone. How do we know that this bad habit we are so attached to will actually be the end of us?!

One of the scary true stories I heard is of a young lady who loved listening to music and dancing a lot. She was so passionate about it that she would indulge in the dancing whether it was Ramadhan or Jumuah or any other day, it never really mattered to her. So one day, this young lady was invited to a wedding and she was happily dancing around when someone suggested to her, ‘Why don’t you go dance at the stage?’ The young lady agreed and she went on to the stage. She folded one arm and kept her hand on the waist. She raised her other hand over her head and stood on her toes on one foot, ready to take a swirl. Just as she was taking the turn, she collapsed. Her family rushed her into the next room, splashed some water on her face but in vain. The girl was gone. Now during the ghusl time, her body remained fixated in that same last posture she was in just before her death; hand akimbo, another hand above her head and with one foot as if she were standing on her toes. The lady who was doing ghusl tried everything to force her body straight but she didn’t succeed. She then decided to call a sheikh to ask for help. The sheikh suggested that she washes her with warm water over her muscles maybe then her body would relax and straighten up. The lady said that she had even tried immersing the entire body in warm water but still, it wouldn’t budge. With nothing else possible, the young lady was buried in that same posture.

The lady who did the ghusl asked the mother about her daughter and she said of how obsessed she was with music and dancing. She would always send her younger brother to go buy her the latest releases of music. The strange thing was that after she had collapsed, her body was straight. It was only when she was taken for ghusl that her body posture turned like that during the dance. Subhanallah. And that was her end…and unfortunately, this is how she will be resurrected.

The truth is, we are not dumb or stupid. Not at all. We know of our sins and we know what habits we need to discard. But do we really even try to take a step and think of our sins or do we attack those who try to correct us? When people tell us about Miraa or smoking or hijab or anything else, do we stop for a moment and think, ‘What if they are right? What if my choices will really lead to my horrible end?!

The good news is that our Lord is indeed the Most Forgiving Most Merciful. Each one of us is struggling with some bad habits or sins that we frequently commit. What we do about them is what matters. If we sincerely put the intention to change and actually TRY to become better Muslims, then Allah will definitely help us and easen for us the path and judge us according to how we strive to get closer to Him.

Indeed life is short and we can never know in which way we will die. Best thing is to pray for a beautiful ending and a beautiful meeting with our Lord when the time comes. Let us keep praying for ourselves and even for our fellow Muslims that we may follow the right path. May Allah guide us and grant us husnul khatima. Ameen.

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This article initially appeared in the JKUMSA magazine of 2019 that was released recently. To read/download the issue click on this link: http://magazine.jkumsa.or.ke/magazine/the-light-april-2018-issue/2019/

***

The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said, “(The performance of) ‘Umrah is an expiation for the sins committed between it and the previous ‘Umrah; and the reward of Hajj Mabrur (i.e., one accepted) is nothing but Jannah.” [Al-Bukhari and Muslim].

You can now join the Muzney Hajj Group for this important spiritual journey. Check out the details in the poster below.

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Creative Non-Fiction

BACHELOR AND BACHELORETTE’S TALK

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THE MARRIAGE LEAGUE: Part I

`Marriage is the best foundation for personal intimacy, economic stability, and child rearing.’

`Regardless, the best time to work on your marriage is before you have one.’

`Our grandmother began a campaign of counsel and advice about men—how to catch them, how to keep them, and how she believed we should make them happy.’

`She asked me out of the blue if our family was rich. I told her that we weren’t really rich, but we had a lot more than most people.’

For the married students, they were in a different league. They seemed to possess a kind of wisdom which the rest of us had not acquired and which seemed to only come with marriage. Wisdom in its simplest definition was an accumulation of mistakes repeated over time and since part of their mistake-spectrum included those that were being experienced in the marriage institution it was understandable why this wisdom was not accessible to us.

If love was ideal then marriage was a reality. A Kenyan married a Kenyan though this was rare, I’m told due to our capitalistic heritage from the British colonial masters. But what was even more interesting was the clique who had married a partner from a different country; these automatically entered the International Marriage League. They were my favorite. It was the highest game in town. These were the citizens of the world. To go back with a wife in addition to the degree seemed a big plus for me. You had a Ugandan marrying a Kenyan in fact lots of Ugandans had taken our girls that in the beginning one chap would whine as we dismissed him. But when we saw the third Kenyan being taken I was tempted to think Ugandans had a conspiracy to pick all our beautiful girls. We needed to counterattack and the first years would be on the fore front to defend the nation ha! ha! ha! This is crap. It’s all about two people. What was planned in heaven come to pass and no man can put them asunder. A Tanzania married an Ethiopian and much more of that type.

I had attended some of the weddings. Several were in neighbourhood. What was beautiful about them was their simplicity. As men, we are not so much excited by weddings for the simple fact that we are the ones who foot the costs. So the simpler it is, the happier we are. Simplicity is a virtue. For the females because John Gray said Men are from Mars, Women from Venus, it is a totally different case. Venusians compared to Martians are very excited about weddings and the more expensive it is the happier they are. I thought if people were to do things in a simple prophetic way the world would be a better place. As the Venusians demanded expensive weddings and more bride price-more especially outside the campus in town-it came back to haunt them. Martians could not afford and so would postpone the issue to the detriment of the Venusians as more and more it seemed, were reaching menopause before being married. These were considered to be old maids. Even though some were alpha females with full-fledged carriers still deep inside them there were those little girls who wanted to be told how beautiful they were. Otherwise they were lonely and would remain so till old age. Then they would fill our heads with talk of death, superstition and the curses of menopause. Some would resort to living with cats. In the event of the cats dying we would be expected to offer our condolences for the loss of cats.

By the way being single too was economically expensive as in one of the relatives would just come in and stay as long as he want and then demand money before leaving. They would confidently do this since you did not have a family to take care of. We had the Martians who postponed marriage too as they thought they had to build an empire first but they got it wrong. Time would later not favor them. If one was to marry at forty and the next generation still marries at forty then somewhere along, one would have an octogenarian parent and toddlers to support. The initiator of that game would have less time to spend with grandchildren at eighty an age most of this generation would not reach since our age is between sixty and seventy. And what a sad sight, seeing octogenarians coming to the hospital to meet their granddaughter and wonder how long they might be there for her at least to participate in the joys of her upbringing. Maybe we should stop wasting time in the pursuit of things that may not matter on our death bed. Most rich men usually state on dying that they would have loved to spend more time with their families rather than create more wealth.

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WOe MENt-al Health

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When you hear Netflix, the next word that comes to mind is Chill, yeah? Lol. Chill. Of the many shows on Netflix, the one I hate the most is 13 Reasons Why. Lubnah had to beg me, several times to watch it. Bruh, that show is suicidal af. That’s what I thought when I saw the promos all over Facebook/Instagram.

So one day I’m really bored and I watch the series, because Lubnah insisted on saving them on my laptop with words close to if not at all ‘you’ll watch it when you’re ready to or when you run out of stuff to watch and re-run’.

My thoughts are confirmed. That series was wild from the word go! And not wild in a good way. P.S I’m not making a review or rating it but I think if anything they gratified Suicide, instead of preventing it by causing awareness. I mean at the end of the day, the girl did slit her wrists and died in a bathtub or whatever. It is so dark in such a way that I fear some not so smart kid, will borrow a leaf from Hannah Baker’s book and you know record shit on CD or Flash Drive just so she could make everyone who hurt her pay. After their death.

I know, at this point you’re all thinking like “Why is she being insensitive to stuff she probably hasn’t gone through”. This is obviously the most polite way of telling me I’m a b#tch. I am not about to disregard Mental Disorders because I for one know that they’re as real as they can be. I might not have had an episode of a nervous breakdown but I know of people close to me who have. Or at least on several occasions spiraled out of ‘normality’ and go down the rabbit hole. That place is shitty as hell because it’s like fighting to live when you’re drowning, but then you wanna give up and go like mahn,let’s just get it over with.

Bulimia isn’t a cute brown haired girl with her friend pulling back her hair as she makes her way out of a classy hotel after glaming herself in the washroom. It’s a puffed face girl with vomit trickling down her cheeks. Anorexia isn’t someone shyly refusing to eat a cupcake. It’s constant avoiding food because paranoia. Don’t even get me started with Depression, that shit isn’t a TV show model with smudged mascara down her face, it’s staying awake at night staring at the ceiling and wishing you could for once close your eyes without tearing up and wish you’d be like everyone else. Anxiety and Panic attacks aren’t just hyperventilating and shortness of breath where some cute guy will surprise kiss you so you can get your breathing pattern together, it’s walking in late in a room full of people thinking they’re judging you or sitting in a room full of people and fight the urge to make your way to the toilet when you’re so pressed. Self harm is not a cute boy raining kisses or caressing your scars, it’s a constant fringing reminder that one day you gave up all your will to live and decided that that is perhaps the easiest way out, it’s wearing long sleeves because your hands sting when water runs on them. So stop romanticizing and covering up all the mental disorders with effects that teenagers would adapt and imitate.

You know like how HIV/AIDS revolves around some super powerful virus thwarting your white blood cells and making them so weak to an extent even the weaklings of all bacteria on the surrounding make your immune system useless, Mental Disorders is having super powerful invisible people each trying to dominate your mind all at once and your mind becomes so fringing clueless on which to follow it becomes confused by its own self. This is as close as I can come to defining what a mental disorder is.

Sometimes I think suicide is for cowards. Perhaps this is the half part of me that hasn’t had a mental crisis. The logical and there’s an answer to everything. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to undermine anyone who’s ever had suicidal thoughts…but come on man…you’re better than that. Life is too short to be living under constant pressure from your own self. But then, there’s the other compassionate and empathetic half of me that thinks like have I considered how many times this person tried to talk to anyone about it and they disregarded them. Because people, like 80% of all of us think its non existent and just say ‘you’ll get better’; and when they finally acknowledge its existence, they think its something that is curable, like take a pill and you know Pharmacokinetics will play its part and you’ll get well. It doesn’t happen that way. A person with anxiety needs constant reassurance that it is not going to end as horribly as their brain made it to be. Or that the weirdly giant web of entangled thoughts are just but thoughts that they have control over; because really, they don’t.

There was the old guy, the comedian who killed himself…Robbin Williams, I loved him as Genie in Aladdin and the Nanny in Mrs. Doubtfire. He killed himself but then his wife attributes his cause of suicide as a struggle with Lewy Body disease. This brings me back to my point, how people close to the affected ones shun their suffering because ‘Oi, its effects are not medically tangible you know’ I mean I could be having anger management issues and spontaneous anger outbursts that lead to displacement..like hitting stuff to breaking point. That people will acknowledge because its effect is seen. You damaged stuff, but for a depressed person, they’ll just consider you sad and so like yeah, just get up and go be happy because someone out there is not as ‘fortunate’ as you are.

The other day a 26 yr old French guy of Pakistani origin threw himself of the Tawwaf ring at Makkah is it. So many theories revolve around my head. You know like perhaps he had been battling depression, and no one notices this and he is left to literally withdraw himself from society, but then this is where perhaps religion comes in and so he goes like ‘Lemme go for Umrah, the peace and solitude will make me feel better’ but obviously that’s not it so he ends up throwing himself and him plummeting to his death.

But is suicide really the end game? I mean yes you’re dead…but when you die…it is not you who feels your death…it is the people close to you, your loved ones. Those are the people who feel the consequences in the world. That’s not the end of it though, is it? I mean yeah, so you killed yourself…you’d expect God and His angels to like welcome you with open arms? Like he had been fighting this for so long we were waiting for you to come home. That’s not it… Allah says (interpretation of the meaning): “… And do not kill yourselves (nor kill one another). Surely, Allaah is Most Merciful to you. And whoever commits that through aggression and injustice, We shall cast him into the Fire, and that is easy for Allah” [al-Nisa’ 4:29]

Abu Hurayrah (radi Allahu anhu) narrated that the Prophet (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Whoever throws himself down from a mountain and kills himself will be in the Fire of Hell, throwing himself down therein forever and ever. Whoever takes poison and kills himself, his poison will be in his hand and he will be sipping it in the Fire of Hell forever and ever. Whoever kills himself with a piece of iron, that piece of iron will be in his hand and he will be stabbing himself in the stomach with it in the Fire of Hell, forever and ever.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

It was narrated from Thaabit ibn al-Dahhaak (radi Allahu anhu) that the Messenger of Allah (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Whoever kills himself with something in this world will be punished with it on the Day of Resurrection.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

And in the full narration of the Hadith in discussion (and with a different translation) it was narrated that Jundub ibn ‘Abd-Allah (radi Allahu anhu) said: The Messenger of Allah (salallahu alaihi wa sallam) said: “Among those who came before you there was a man who was wounded and he panicked, so he took a knife and cut his hand with it, and the blood did not stop flowing until he died. Allah said: ‘My slave hastened to bring about his demise; I have forbidden Paradise to him.” [Sahih Al-Bukhari and Muslim]

This might come out harsh you know…but then God doesn’t give you a burden you can’t bear, just do everything else but don’t you ever give up on God yo! I mean yeah it’s hard and all but it is said that no affliction shall befall a man, But from it is a sin is expiated. Why you insist on getting to Jahannam when Allah has willed for you paradise for your perseverance and endurance? But then again who knows perhaps the said person was a believer in Allah and His Messenger and a follower of Tawheed, not a mushrik, so that automatically makes him subjected to the will of Allah. If Allah wills He will forgive him, and if He wills He will punish him, but even if He punishes him He will eventually bring him forth from the Fire, because Allah says (interpretation of the meaning): “Verily, Allah forgives not that partners should be set up with Him (in worship), but He forgives except that (anything else) to whom He wills” [al-Nisa’ 4:48]

This clearly shows how much suicide is considered NOT THE WAY OUT.

Oh dear hurting, wavering soul, talk, talk and talk to anyone and everyone about it. Shout if you have to so that some years later, a boy/girl can proudly speak up because you projected their words. Talk so that not another single human would resolve to suicide by wondering at what point in time did they lose their voices. Talk because talking already makes it better. I mean you’re spewing your messed up thoughts to someone real not the virtual horcruxes in your mind trying to take over and that they’re going to be there for you and help you by constantly reassuring youre actually not insane.

And as for the ‘normals’, be a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to lean on when things get rough for someone close to you. Stop being close minded about Mental Illness because it’s as real as Multiple Sclerosis and Lupus and Cancer.

Also, I know I might come off b#tchy and all, but yeah, I promise I’ll try to listen to you when you wanna b#tch about your ‘virtual dweller’. Also I’m a good secret keeper, James and Lily Potter would still be alive if they hadn’t chosen the rat coz he snitched…I might tell Lubnah though, coz she’s like 99% feely and I’m 99% assertive….but that’s about it. She might reach out and be there for you…because she’s a darling like that. Just Kidding, I kinda have myself vested in the Patient Doctor confidentiality so your troubles are safe with me.☺☺

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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)

JUST BE.

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Photo Courtesy: www.pixabay.com

In many motivational speeches or writings, one thing the speaker or author encourages his/her audience to do is answer this question: “What is my purpose in life?”
It is as simple and complex as it is. The question automatically brings about more question to mind. Like; why am I doing what I’m doing? Is it what I was meant to do? Do i benefit from it? Are my loved ones benefiting from it? Does it make the world a better place? Etcetera etcetera.

But when we come back to the book of Allah, He states clearly;
“And I created not the Jinn and mankind except that they should worship Me (alone)”
When you look at it this way doesn’t it seem easier? Well it does when you look at “worship” only in terms of the five daily prayers, fasting, zakat and hajj. But in addition to the latter there are numerous way of worshipping Allah. Isn’t it in the same Qur’an that Allah reminds us that He has given us minds and challenges us to actually think? That we should go out and explore the world? That we shoud seek knowledge? Thus personally, I define worship as that which pleases Allah. In this way , I easily find my purpose in life and be able to broaden it from the five pillars of islam to much more.

Still, the question is not what is your purpose in life? The real question is why aren’t you after it? If the main reason I am in this world is to please Allah then why am I not doing that?

Fear… it holds us back in achieving our purpose of living. I am not going to be the one to initiate peace between my arguing friends because I fear I might get caught up in the middle of it. I am not going to write the book because I fear they might not like it. I won’t be a public speaker because I fear I might lose my words. I am not going to start that business because I fear the risks and loss that I might encounter…and it goes on and on.

Most of us already know what we ought to be doing in order to please our Creator, to leave behind a great legacy, to create a better world but we let fear prevent us from acting. May be if we start thinking about our purpose in life being directly linked to pleasing our Creator, it will help us fight our fears. At the end of it all, Allah does not look at how great you did what you did, He is more interested in the struggle and intention of your actions. So, stop worrying about being good, being enough or being good enough and just be. Be among those who pleases their Creator.

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Kiddie Tales

THE LIFE CHANGER (part 3)

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By: Naima Baghozi

Photo Courtesy: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com

#7
After visiting their daughter, the parents took Dasi and went back home. They entered their house with real excitement, anticipating the return of their daughter the next day.

Along the way they bought some fruits and whatever they required for the great welcome of their daughter. They could hardly sleep that night with excitement. Very early the following morning they all set out to collect Sahira from the hospital. Upon arrival, she too was so ready waiting for them. All her medicines were packed in a plastic bag while her little belongings were already in her red duffel bag.

After the farewell to the doctor and nurses, they were off on their way home. Sahira couldn’t wait to get home for she had really missed it; however she wondered how she would climb that little flight of stairs. She had quite a surprise when their car stopped at a little rump next to the stairs. Her eyes moistened a bit and knew that her family had really been at work and that the changes she was undergoing, they were too.

Her father helped her out of the car and helped to wheel her over the rump and straight into the house they entered. She immediately noticed all the changes that had been made for her and realized how much love they shared as a family. Her bedroom was the best and of course, this was solely her mother’s work. She was so grateful to both her parents and to her brother for the comforts they have provided her.
The changes were tough for the whole family and it took them a little time to get used to their new lifestyle. But getting used they did and they tried their best to be as comfortable and happy as could be.

Sahira took her medicines without any fail and was taken for her physiotherapy twice a week as per the doctor’s instructions. She did without any fail as she was really determined to get well and be able to walk by herself again.
Days turned to weeks then into months until after six months or so the doctor called her parents again to have a discussion with them. So, the parents came into the hospital and went straight to the doctor’s office where they found him with the physiotherapist awaiting them.

After greetings and after being seated, the doctor looked at them, smiling and said:
“The reason for my calling you in today is to give you good news, that Sahira is now ready for the operation.”
“Oh really doctor?”
“Yes maam, she is very ready. The therapy which we were doing was very successful and to be honest, your daughter’s determination was what really made it possible for the operation to be done now,” the physiotherapy replied.
“So when do you plan to do the operation?” the father asked.
“In two days time God willing. So I will need you to bring her in tomorrow evening. She needs to sleep here so that early the following morning we can prep her as we intend to operate on her very early indeed.”

The parents agreed on that and stood to go home to explain to their daughter of their arrangements. The next evening, they left their home with excitement but equally nervous. At the hospital, Sahira was taken to her room and her family stayed with her a little while and then about nine o’clock they had to leave but her mother decided to remain with her. Her father and brother would come back early the following morning.

The D-day was finally here and it dawned on the whole family with great expectations. The moment finally came for Sahira to be wheeled to the theatre and the family had a small prayer before she was taken away. The family followed behind, offering Sahira all their support and giving her courage.

All in all, the operation took a little over five hours but to Sahira’s family it was like ages. They had such anxious looks on their faces and her father was pacing up and down in front of the theatre with such a worried look on his face.
Finally, the doors of the theater were flung open and out came the doctor looking very tired. They all rushed to him with question upon question.
“Doctor, how did it go?”
“How is my daughter?”
“Was the operation a success doctor?”
“Please doctor, take us out of this suspense…”
“Okay, okay. Please give me a chance to speak. The operation was quite a success but she is still unconscious. Soon, they will take her to the recovery room but please see her for just a few minutes and please, be very quiet okay?” the doctor said.
“Okay and thank you so much doctor,” they all replied in unison.


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As the doctor walked away, the theater doors were flung open again and out came the nurses rolling the trolley with Sahira on it but still unconscious. They all followed behind to the recovery room where they were politely asked to wait outside first as the nurses props her up on the bed.

After a few minutes the nurses came out and told them to go in but to be very quiet. So they did just that, only too happy just to be near her. Two hours passed before Sahira showed some signs of coming to consciousness. Her mum quickly sent Dasi to call the doctor.

Everything turned out well and after a couple of days she was allowed to go home. Of course the walking by herself would take a little more time. She had to first heal from the operation and then do some special exercises before she could contemplate walking again. It would be slowly at first, like a small child starting to learn how to walk for the first time.

All this she did with such excitement and happiness and in about a month she was as good as new, like her old self again. Her parents and brother were the happiest to see Sahira being her joyous self again and thanked God for letting them see her this way once again.

As for Sahira herself, she couldn’t be more thankful to God for the blessing of being able to walk again and of course to her parents too for being supportive and always being there for her.

Finally she said to them:
“This experience has really been a life changer for me and from now onward, I will certainly look at life in a totally different way. Thank you all so much.”
She hugged them all and they hugged her back in return, with their faces full of joy and laughter.

#THE END


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Kiddie Tales

THE LIFE CHANGER (part 1)

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By: Naima Baghozi

Photo Courtesy:https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com

#1

Sahira stood transfixed on the spot like her feet were glued on the road; unable to move a step. The look on her face was a horrified one for her eyes were opened wide and wider with fright. Her mouth formed an O shape and her heartbeats must have sounded even so loud to herself like a drum beat far into the night.
From afar, she seemed to hear her little brother’s voice calling out her name with such fright in his voice.

“Sahira, Sahira get away from the road…” but she just stood transfixed like a frozen statue. The road was a two way path so cars were driving up and down but she was focused on the oncoming car that was driving at such speed that she was unable to move away from the road.

Her poor little brother Dasi was yelling at the top of his voice for her to get out of the way of the fast coming car but she just couldn’t move even an inch. Then without any other single second passing; the car being at a very high speed, neither was the driver able to slow down nor to step on the brakes before ‘Bang!’ She was its target.

The next thing, Sahira came to her senses with so many bright lights around and with such worried faces of her parents and Dasi looking down at her where she was lying down. She looked at them with wonder as to why they were looking at her in that way or where exactly was she? The only thing she was feeling was pain all over her body like she was on needles. Her head…yes, her head…it felt so heavy that she couldn’t lift it. So she decided to ask her mum where she was and why was she feeling so much pain.

Her mum was literally in tears,
“My dear Sahira, don’t you remember anything? Just remain calm. You had an accident yesterday morning and you have been unconscious since then. You even had an emergency operation. Oh! We have been so worried about you dear!”
“But how did the accident happen?” She asked, puzzled.
“Sahira, it would be better if you ask your brother since he was there and saw it.”
So she turned her face towards Dasi and right away asked him,
“Dasi please tell me, what happened as I can’t remember anything.” And strangely enough, she couldn’t remember anything at all. As much as she tried to remember her head kept hurting her even more. She continued,
“Please tell me Dasi,” with tears in her eyes and slowly streaming down her face as she felt helpless and she felt she couldn’t move at all!

#2
Dasi looked at her with such hurtful eyes that it tugged at her heart and then slowly, he started narrating to her what really had happened.
“My dear sister…”he started as he held her hand tightly, “Yesterday, you and I were going to the shops…upon reaching the main road, you decided to just cross without checking the movements of cars. When you were in the middle of the road, you suddenly saw a fast coming car coming towards you and I don’t know what happened to you for you stood still and didn’t move at all. I kept calling at you so that you may move aside but you seemed not to hear me at all…don’t you remember any of this?”

Sahira looked strangely at her brother and just shook her head from side to side. She felt useless even to herself and she tried to sit up when…
“My legs, I can’t feel my legs…” she cried out breathlessly, “Mum, dad, I can’t feel my legs. Where are my legs?” she kept crying on and on and she was feeling agitated. Her parents tried to calm her down and Dasi ran out to call the nurses and doctors. In a little while, in came the doctor followed by a couple of nurses and seeing how the situation was, the doctor immediately took charge. He gave instructions to the nurses to immediately give her a sedative so that she may calm down and sleep for a while.

The nurses did just that and it wasn’t long before she gave herself up to the strength of the sedative and she was in deep sleep. In the mean time, Dasi and their parents were so concerned and worried about their situation and started firing questions at the doctor almost simultaneously on why she couldn’t feel her legs nor move them. The doctor answered them,
“Please, calm down and let me do some further tests and take x-rays to see what is causing this.”

Dasi felt so sad for his sister as they were very close since they were only two siblings and he always looked up to her and loved her very much. He just hoped and prayed to God that she will be alright and up and about very soon.
First thing early next morning, the doctor instructed the nurses to do the necessary tests plus the x-rays. All this was done with quite an emergency so that the results can come out with immediate effect and the doctor could determine as to the cause of Sahira not being able to move her legs.


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#3
Apart from the immobility of her legs, Sahira also got cuts and bruises literally all over her body-thus she also had stitches here and there including a couple of broken ribs and that is why she had all these pains all over her body. She was groaning from every movement she tried to make. Looking at her one could just see bandages all over her…

She continued so much to try recalling exactly what really happened to her or how but to no avail. It was so frustrating to her and it kept on hurting her head even more than ever. She was so determined to know it all, that she decided to ask her brother once again in private.

Since her case was an emergency, all the tests and x-rays were speed-fasted so that by mid morning the results were ready for the doctor’s viewing. The doctor came into Sahira’s room and requested her parents to follow him into his office. The parents stood up in silence and followed the doctor.

At this point, Dasi decided that he too, would follow his parents so he could know exactly what’s happening to his sister. However, Sahira stopped him on his tracks as she had her own ideas and that was to ask her brother of all the details of the accident.

“Dasi, please wait, don’t go and leave me alone. Please stay with me,” she said. Dasi then returned to his seat next to his sister’s bed. He looked again at his sister with such sympathy in his eyes and started to explain as she had requested.
“Basically, it is as I had told you before. There is nothing more to add other than that the driver of the car tried very hard to swerve away from you but it was too late.”
“So then, what happened to the driver?” she asked him.
“Well…”and he stopped.
“Why are you not saying anything Dasi? What happened? Please do tell me. I really need to know,” she pleaded with her brother. Dasi decided it’s best to tell her the truth or she would keep on asking until it would irritate him. After all, he knew his sister. She normally doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants. So he cleared his throat and continued with the explanation.

“You see, as I told you the driver tried very hard to swerve so he wouldn’t hit you and even hooted a lot but you were just like a stone; completely out of it. You were like a deaf person not hearing anything at that time. However, when he couldn’t stop, he just knocked you and you went up like a flying saucer and came down with a real bang. You started rolling down the road, as you know, if you can remember the road was not flat leveled. The poor driver with his swerve went and hit a side tree and then his car kept on rolling and when it came to a stop…it just burst into flames and nothing of it was left including the poor driver. That was the end of him and nothing could be done at that point to save him…”

It is only imaginable that at this point, Sahira was sobbing hysterically and she felt more miserable for she felt she was responsible for this poor man’s death. Dasi tried to calm her down.
“But how can I calm down Dasi, when you know very well I am the cause of this man’s death?” she said.
“That’s not true; you know that it is not true…” Dasi replied.
“It is true, it is my fault and you know it,” she kept insisting.
“Stop blaming yourself for this, if he was not driving at that speed none of this could have happened. This is his own fault,” Dasi kept on convincing her. He then continued,
“Okay, I do sympathize with what happened to him but you can’t blame yourself for what happened to him. Now look at your condition, whom are you going to blame for it? Were it not for his careless fast driving, you would not be in the hospital right now.”
“Dasi stop blaming the poor man, he is dead you know-may his soul rest in peace. The fault is mine that I am in hospital right now, so stop justifying the situation and claiming I am not at fault here,” she intervened. Dasi kept quiet at this point deep in thoughts of his own and she, deep in her own…

How does Sahira accept her new situation? Will she get her memory back?And will she be able to move once again? That, in the next piece coming soon in shaa Allah 🙂


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Creative Non-Fiction

CHANGE VS CONSISTENCY

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

 

Is there a difference between Change and Consistency? Most of the times I like to remain indifferent about Change and Consistency….I mean some of you might as well say yeah there is…but I feel at times that the pros of consistency are the cons of change…and vice versa. Think of it this way a caterpillar turning into a butterfly…that’s change yeah? Is it good? Totally. Then there’s consistency…lionesses hunt….and it’s been that way since forever…is it bad? No it’s not. Supposing lionesses thought like humans and there’s feminism in Pride Land…Okay? No. I am sure you now know why I am not a fan of being in a debate about Change and Consistency.

 

So like in life, take metarmophosis for example. Is that developing or changing? I mean…you’re the same YOU…but in a different way….wait…isnt that what change it is? Confusing right?

 

The other day, I was catching up with friends and we had a conversation that was brought up with you know…ahh 5 years ni miaka mingi…unkua…you no longer have that kiddish face…unkaa mtu mzima (P.S she was probably referring to the fact that I had my mtandio intact ?…high school was ish ish…or maybe I am no longer the reckless girl who came in class with zero fucks given on how short my jilbab was or missing the scarf. Thank you Anisa for always having an extra one for me for Mondays and Thursdays ?) Anyways, we got into talking about life. How it was different from what we expected and what we did not and so automatically we ended up talking about marriage.

When do you know you’re ready to get married? How is marriage life different from not-commited life? From the stories and experiences we had…I can strongly conclude Marriage Life is another hell for people who grew up with strict and at the same time conservative parents and family.

 

I don’t know…it’s probably norms and cultures…like if you get married you’re expected to cook, give birth, raise kids, take care of your husband and suddenly it’s a routine. (Wenyewe wasema ni ulezi). Do not get me wrong. I am not saying any of that is bad….actually it’s very good. Almost as good as it being part and parcel of the marriage package deal. The question however remains to be; does it have to be the only stuff you do in your marriage? Like wake up in the morning get the kids and the Mr. ready for school and work or whatever. Go to work(or not). Come back home and cook for them, help them with homework or work related stuff (again or not). Eat. Sleep. Wake up the following morning and it’s literally your cycle of life. The best you get when you have a free time is watch you-tube videos on make-up tutorials or cook shows. Hah! My friend,she put it like whenever you’re free…you find fascination on curtains or furniture or this blouse I bought or usitumie mchele A for mkate wa sinia ukitumia B yawa laini zaidi). You should’ve heard say that btw. ???

 

In my perspective. I think alot of marriages do not work because wallahy I feel that that cycle is a wastage of the wife’s entire life. It’s probably 98% of the reasons why husbands go outside to look for other women…like say  these free and hyper and crazed up girls because they’re full of life and energy and are not boring. (Consistency not good here yeah? I thought so too.)

I am absolutely 95% sure the make up or the blouses and deras and thobes we ladies get are not even for the Mr. If they’re not for weddings and functions( which 100% certain your husband isn’t attending) then it’s for show off to your girls and it’s for the typical swahili culture (ahh mashallah mume wake amtizama uzuri.) Wake up woman! You’re way more than just that. I mean dress up. No one is denying you that right…but why do you have to do it for people. It’s okay if you’re creative and into interior fashion and architectural designing…but those need not be your purpose in life. Contour and higlight your face and at the same time be a mechanical engineer. Cook like one would say it tastes like maiden and at the same time be that on call doctor who gets a midnight call to go do an emergency surgery. Seriously lady…you went to school. Before marriage you had visions and dreams. Just like they say you should not put marriage on hold because of education don’t you dare put an end to your education, dreams and visions just because of marriage life. Just like you’re the mother to the kids…he is the father. Just like you can cook so can he (or learn..ddduuhhh there’s  Chef Ali Mandhry…he cooks and a half). Just like you can take the kids to school and help them with homework so can he. Am not saying go all feminist on him. Take atleast 65% of the works needed in refining your marriage life…but dude…while looking after the kids and the Mr.; use the remaining 35% to fucking look after yourself too. Update yourself because marriage was not meant to introduce you to a new version and set you to a default. You do not want to stay behind, because this world is dynamic and change is a must…or is it consistency (like before marriage you were someone with goals therefore keep goaling)?

 

P.S I am not promoting feminism. I am promoting consistency or change or whatever.

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