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YOU ARE WORTHY

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

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

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

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

Just know that you are worthy just by being you.

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

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

You are priceless just the way you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Say it with me. I AM WORTHY.

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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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MATERIALISM: FOR THE LOVE OF WEALTH

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N.B: This essay was initially submitted to Islamic Online University, Department of Psychology (with a few additions). It is thus subjected to copyright. Enjoy!

There is a reason why we all love to see ‘SALE!’ on our favourite shopping malls or anywhere really; it means buying, buying and more buying. There is some sort of excitement that comes with shopping and an ego-inflating thrill of owning it afterwards when we buy things we want, even when not really needed. We often confuse this short-term spark of endorphins and dopamine to be happiness until the stuff we have bought lay around for some while and we realize it wasn’t such a big deal anyway. This leads to further acquisition of other materials so as to acquire the same kind of elation once again. When we become too engrossed in the consuming habit and making it a priority, we end up being materialistic people.

Belk (1984) describes materialism as “The importance a consumer attaches to worldly possessions” and “possessions assume a central place in a person’s life and are believed to provide the greatest sources of satisfaction and dissatisfaction”.

Advertisers play a big role in influencing materialism. Advertisements eat away at people’s happiness and erode the general satisfaction they have with what they already own. It makes people feel inadequate and sometimes tamper with their self-worth and in return, brainwash them into buying ‘happiness’ or items that would make them feel better about themselves.

Unhappiness unfortunately generates a need for material possessions and more wealth. For this reason, unhappiness and materialism reinforce each other; materialism breeds unhappiness and vice versa. (Akers, n.d.) This has been depicted in TV shows, movies and many other online posts where unhappy or depressed people go for shopping in pursuit of extinguishing the emptiness or pain within them. In retrospective, people who frequently watch these TV shows and consume the media a lot, end up believing that materialism is an effective and spontaneous way to acquire happiness.

While many have fallen victim of materialism in pursuit of happiness, another plausible explanation as to why people continue to purchase materialistic goods is the social comparison theory (Festinger, 1948). By the social comparison theory we refer to how people often compare themselves to their peers, friends and family. Trying too hard to fit in, people go an extra mile to purchase, acquire and own things that sometimes don’t work with their current income or savings. Some take huge debts and some misplace their priorities for the same. This might grant them social acceptance and to be regarded from a certain class, it doesn’t grant them happiness or inner peace.

Materialism has adverse effects on the minds and happiness of people. The first thing is that, materialism causes erosion of moral values. When a person puts a great importance to money and worldly possessions, they tend to give up most of their moral values to get what they want. Sometimes they lose their sense of right and wrong and become too pre-occupied in gaining what they yearn for. They become selfish, envious and too aggressive in being discontent with themselves and what they possess. An example of this is when people indulge in disgusting sexual relations just to acquire wealth and status or when they turn against their own friends and family and commit injustice to take wealth from them.

People tend to be blinded with greed once they taste the thrill of materialism. They want more and more and they’d overcome all limits to get what they want. Some people go to the extent of committing murder and breaking the law just to acquire the things they want. It becomes like a dangerous addiction where one no longer cares what they have to do, to get these worldly possessions.

Consumerism may breed narcissistic personalities. According to psychologist Tim Kasser, narcissists turn to actions of arrogance and are very concerned with issues regarding their worth to other people. They turn to other people for self-assurance. Materialism affects the mind in the same way.

Narcissists’ desire for external validation fits well with the conception of materialistic values as extrinsic and focused on others’ praise. They seek power and prestige to cover their inner feelings of emptiness and low self-worth. People in consumerism driven cultures believe their worth as a person is measured by how much stuff they own. As such, it is quite expected that a materialistic person may turn out to be narcissistic as well.

With all the moral values gone, it becomes very difficult for a materialistic person to have healthy relationships with other people. Their entire world revolves around money, wealthy people and how to gain more. As such, they rarely have time to make proper connections and to be compassionate with other beings. Materialism has been proven to be one of the reasons for lower marital quality and unhappiness in marriages.

With all the social media channels that we have, life couldn’t be harder for teenagers and young adults. They spend hours online scrolling and admiring how their peers and their idols seem to be spending and ‘being happy’. There are new trends coming up every other day and keeping up with it all becomes too overwhelming. Society pressures them to ‘look cool’ and keep up with these trends so as to fit in. This makes some of them fall into depression or to be manipulative so as to acquire what they want. Materialism in teens could also lead to self-esteem issues and bullying, because they are pressured into buying these things and are often teased if they don’t.
The alarming mistake we are making is allowing ourselves to believe that material possessions will enhance our well-being and the quality of our lives. Despite this being a wrong belief, it is widely embraced by both the poor and the rich.

Our deen, Islam has set for us the perfect way of living and if followed, most of the agony and pain we inflict on ourselves wouldn’t be available. As much as we as Muslims are encouraged to seek better and comfortable livelihoods, there are limits to everything. Material possessions are regarded as secondary to moral and spiritual development of human personality. We therefore are to strive for the hereafter more than the temporary worldly possessions.

To effectively deal with materialism, a Muslim can adopt the following principles as established by Allah (S.W.) in the qur’an and by the prophet (P.B.U.H).

1. Focusing on the purpose of this dunya: Allah (S.W) clearly states in the qur’an: “And this life of the world is nothing but a sport and play; and as for the next abode, that most surely is the life, did they but know.” (Surah Al Ankabut: 29: 64) This life is temporary and when we die, everything we ever possessed becomes for those we live behind. This should motivate us to strive for the hereafter which is eternal.

If the purpose of life is to become wealthy, there would be no purpose after becoming wealthy. Many people yearn to become wealthy with the thought that this is what will give them happiness and satisfaction of this life, however, when they attain the wealth, the reality dawns on them that materials can never fulfil them. This eventually leads to feelings of despair and depression.

The true purpose of our existence is to worship Allah (S.W) and to seek his pleasure and if we follow His path, then this dunya wouldn’t mean so much to us. We would focus on attaining jannah in the hereafter where we will attain the true happiness and bliss.

2. Being content (Having qan’a3a): Prophet Muhammed (saws) said, “Riches does not mean having a great amount of property; real wealth is self-contentment.” Sahih Bukhari. For us to be content we need to look at those below us and not those above us. We should buy what we need and not just want. We should be content with Allah has given us without being greedy. This will set the limits on how much one seeks to spend on material world.

3. Acting selflessly and giving charity: When we look outward and strive to help other people, the more we become happy and content with our own lives. Allah (S.W) says: “If you offer up to God a goodly loan, He will amply repay you for it, and will forgive you your sins: for God is ever responsive to gratitude, forbearing.” We should feel empathy for the poor and know that they have rights on our excess money. The benefits of sadaqah have been mentioned in many ayahs and hadith and they act as a good shield from materialism.

4. Avoiding Israf: Imam Jafar Sadiq (as) said: “If a son of Adam (as) possessed two vast valleys wherein gold and silver flowed, he would still wish to search for the third one.” This shows how weak we are as human beings when it comes to wealth. Nonetheless, Allah (S.W) warns us, “…and eat and drink and be not extravagant; surely He does not love the extravagant.” (Surah al-Ar’āf 7:31)

5. Showing gratitude to Allah (S.W): Allah promises us in the qur’an that if we are grateful He will indeed increase His favours upon us. Showing gratitude is beneficial for our souls for it makes us appreciate what we are granted and be content with it.

From all the above, we can see there is no direct correlation between income and happiness. Wealth may help in improvement of quality of life but even so, once the basic needs are met, wealth makes very little difference to one’s overall well-being and sense of happiness. In fact, extremely wealthy people actually suffer from higher rates of depression.

In conclusion, materialism has proven to be a dreadful disease in our current society and for us to be truly happy in this life, we need to follow our shariah and sunnah that gives us the right way to live well in this dunya.

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Creative Non-Fiction

NOT ALL THE MEN ARE THE SAME

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At our home, we have a wooden door that has two stickers. The words on it are: ‘Father means you are taking care of your children. Husband means you are taking care of your wife. You are accepting the responsibilities of manhood. -Malcolm X’ Both stickers have the same words; one sticker at the top of the door and the other at the middle. You know, in case the man walking in is short or tall, we have you sorted. The words are for you. Coming from a family blessed with daughters, this set the bar for all of us. Our father taught us what being a good father and husband means and our mother taught us to never settle for less than what we truly deserve or make us happy.

Being a naturally observant person, I came to realize how appealing this theory of ‘All men are the same’ is. We do have some significant characteristics that you’d find in men; most men or all men but there’s still a difference. And sometimes the differences are so big you’d think some are men from different clay. Perhaps one lot is made from clay blue marble and another from soft clay and maybe another from kaolin? Only God knows. Like you know, the easiest example is say ‘All men like football’ or cars or even play station. While significantly many of them do, several others don’t. A lady will most probably assume this man she just met likes football because well that’s the norm, until she realizes he doesn’t. So when men mess up and then another messes up, its so easy to put the pieces as one and put them into the same basket. As we say in Kiswahili, ‘yai moja likioza yote yaoza’ and that’s how we just take it.

There is a fairly elderly man that I know, who twenty years after his marriage, still treats his wife like a queen. When it gets to 12 noon, you’d see him drop everything to go pick his wife for lunch and when he is running late, he would literally panic. In your mind you’s think perhaps his wife is the dominant, intimidating kind but no. His wife is so quiet, so reserved. So it has nothing to do with a woman ‘kumkalia chapati’. The man just loves and respects his wife. This is twenty years later my friend, not within one or two years or within the honeymoon period. I also know of another man who lets his wife run all the financial matters in the house, investments and all the projects that they handle together. It is not a matter of control or a competition on who is man enough or a feminist. It’s all a matter of the respect two people decide to give each other and how far their trust goes. These are just two examples but there are several good men out there; responsible husbands, great fathers and role models for their children. Men who know how to be kind and compassionate to their families. Well, where does this brand of men come from? Different type of clay?

Some time back this one man married the woman he loved. She was beautiful. You know the modern society ‘beautiful’? That high bar classification of modern beauty? Yes she was that beautiful. She is from a noble family with hair to her waist. You’d think love and beauty will be enough to keep a marriage together but it rarely does. Years down the line, the man is seated across the room from where I am seated, praising his third wife after divorcing the other two. Speaking of how his current loves him and spends on him as he shows off the gifts. I then remember his first wife. The woman tried. God knows she did all she could to ensure he never looks or marries another woman. Yet she didn’t succeed. Despite all her strengths and her good traits. I am not being judgmental because only God and them know why the previous marriages didn’t work but I just think of this poor lady rejoicing over her new catch and probably doing all she can to ensure he doesn’t go anywhere else. But we all know the truth don’t we? That a man can’t be kept. He chooses to stay. A man can’t be changed. He chooses to change himself. I do sincerely wish this lady and this man that their happiness lasts but them aside, we know that the reality is more cruel than that. We know there’s only so much a woman can do to make her husband love her and stay with her.

A man can’t be bought into settling down. A man can’t be seduced by beauty if he decides not to care about that specific beauty. You could be the most humble human being, best manners and the ideal wife. You could do all the tricks they mention on the internet and relationship books. Yet if this man decides not to look at you or care about you and your children then that’s just it. If he ever changes then it is because it was his personal choice to appreciate what you do for him. You could have the curves all men crave for but he could still decide to cheat on you. So no honey. Men are not the same. Another kind of man, another breed, the one made from the other special kind of clay wouldn’t make you feel inferior or mock you in any way even if your face is full of pimples and acne or you gained a little more weight this month. He wouldn’t humiliate you in front of your children just because you aren’t such a good cook. He would strive to be better so both of you can both grow financially, spiritually and mentally. If a man truly loves his wife, he’d go out of his way to ensure things work. You think this is too fairy taley? No its not. Our society has just put the wrong idea of marriage and love and family in our heads, when a man acts right, it is so unusual for us, we think the woman has done something to him.

There are many kinds of men out there. Some who are hard like rocks and stern like robots. They wouldn’t even ask your opinion on which school to take your own child. And there are men whose compassion fluctuates like their mood swings. Today they decide to be kind and treat their wives like queens and the next day they decide spending time at home is unmanly so he’d rather go at the baraza to sit idly with friends. And there are men who make their wives their partners and they communicate efficiently and work to build their marriages just like they build their careers. And there are those who live like bachelors despite having a wife waiting for them at home. And some are just dead beat fathers. Those who are joyful and charming to the entire world except his wife and children. And there are those who are like the butterflies; they fly to the flower for pollination and once its done, they go for more attractive flowers. Others just marry to have someone cook and wash their clothes and take care of their needs. And there are those who trust their wives to the extent of handing them their passwords and bank pins and allow them to have a say in everything. It goes on and on. All you could ever do as a woman is pray to have a proper man who will raise proper children who in turn will be proper sons and future fathers.

The world is not just black and white. Its the same with men.

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SURPRISINGLY, I LOVE MY COUNTRY

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The sun sets beneath the hills that are stretched into the distance as I lazily sit on a couch while I enjoy the spectacular view. “No two sunsets are ever the same,” I soliloquise, enamoured by the ever changing hues of the sky, shifting from gold, to pink and eventually, black.

You see, sunsets make me sad for a variety of reasons and sometimes, for no reason at all.
They make me think of another day wasted with procrastination, beating myself up for not studying or doing some other mundane task. They also make me think of the impending doom that is about to befall this world, as the list of events prophesied over an aeon ago are fulfilled one by one. Other times, it simply reminds me that beautiful things are often fleeting at best, and in the end all men must die. I digress, or so it seems, but that is one of the reasons I love Kenya. The sunsets here are beautiful. A liken Kenya to a mother with over forty children, who fight each other for the biggest piece of meat. Some children are stronger than the others, and so they take from their weaker siblings and share major parts among themselves, leaving the rest starving or dissatisfied. So what do the weaker siblings do? They band against their stronger counterparts with the hopes of taking the meat that they possess and making it theirs. All the while, mama Kenya silently weeps and whispers, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

I’ve always thought of running away to some first world country where I’ll have a better chance of living a good life than here. All the goings on that occur on a daily basis have been met with indifference on my part, because I felt that it didn’t concern me. But now I find myself checking the news and looking up on the country’s economy. I’m curious to know who did what and which firm invested where. I get pissed off when politicians threaten to upset the current peace by inciting violence which once upon a time brought mama Kenya to her knees and almost took her to a point of no return.

It took me a while to realise this but…I actually love my country and care about whatever happens to it. Frankly, Kenya is a messed up country, but it is my messed up country. It’s the place where I was born and raised, where I felt love, joy, anger, sadness and pain. It’s a place I call home. When someone you care about is in a bad state, you try your best to rectify them instead of running away and letting them suffer. I believe we are at a critical point in our country’s future and we need to ensure that nothing happens that will jeopardize this future. If we are to pull off a Singapore and become one of the world’s leading economies, then we really need to put mama Kenya’s wishes ahead of our own and share the meat fairly and equitably, so that all siblings may truly love one another and make their mother proud.

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Creative Non-Fiction

MY HAPPY PERSON

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Photo Courtesy: www.pixabay.com

Now my happy person is not exactly ‘happy’. He is very naughty, very stubborn, twice a cry baby as me but also very charming. So my typical day is either filled with his excited screams as he plays, jumps, jogs, matches around or violently, hysterically crying; you could hear him cry two blocks away. But he still makes me happy. Like the genuine deep joy you could ever have.

As any loving aunt, the first thing when I get home is search for him. I start calling his name right at the door. ‘Haasssaaaaaannn’ and I would chorus it one step at a time until I reach upstairs. Now my two year old nephew knows i’m the only one who calls him by that name so the moody him would choose whether to rush to the door to meet me or totally ignore me. When he decides to come to the door, he choruses my name back, calling me ‘Abby’. Spoiler though, once he reaches to the door, he extends his hand expecting ‘Chipsi kuku’ (these snacks for kids nowadays smh 😀 ). So recently, I decided I will not buy his love and thus, not getting much of a response.

‘Hassan’ was actually born two days before my graduation day and thus, I always considered him my graduation gift. On his delivery night, I volunteered to be the one sleeping over at the hospital; just to receive him. Picture that. Yet our relationship is a love-hate one or should we call it a one-sided love tale? He is vehemently rejecting me 9.9 out of 10 times. He doesn’t want me carrying him, sitting near him OR his mother or my mother or my father or anyone else in the family. He doesn’t want me touching them, hugging them or having any contact with anyone else. So he doesn’t want me but also, no one should want to be near me either. He doesn’t want me to look at him or even calling his name aimlessly either. Sometimes he pulls me out of the room entirely because ‘Why are you breathing my air?’ I think he considers me the black sheep of the family of some sorts? 😀 So most of the times he is letting out a shrill scream on my face. And I scream back. And he screams back and it ends up being a scream battle and I’d force carrying him and hugging him and he’d fight to get down and run off. Too much noise. He breaks my heart every single day and his tiny little smile just tends to heal me somehow. The irony of it all is that he’s got several personality traits like my own to the extent I feel like his real mother, even my family comments on the similarities. It’s insane I know but it makes me happy how we just get on each other’s nerves for the entire day like what other alternative did he leave me with? 😀

I almost always know what he needs when he actually comes to me or accepts me to carry him. He wants me to do him a favour. He either wants some juice, or some biscuit, or to bathe because he loves playing with water, or that I open a door for him…it just rotates around the list of things he likes or wants time to time. Yet sometimes out of the blue, he comes and hugs me, or kisses me, or just chorus my name for no reason and smile, or lets me bathe him joyfully or sit on my lap for more than one minute. At home we call them historical moments because they rarely happen. It’s like we are in this bad relationship but then sometimes he gets sober and remembers to appreciate. The historical moments are quickly documented; perhaps could even end up in Guinness World book records.

The biggest joke we have at home is that when he starts school, I’ll be the one to take him there because there’s a high probability he won’t cry for me 😀 Evil yeah? I wanna cry right now. But just last weekend I was in Nairobi and I got a detailed report of how he kept moving from one room to another, calling out my name. When I video-called later that night, he had a big frown on his face. I kept calling his name but he turned his face away. Trust me, I had a lot of convincing and sweet-talking to do when I came back.

One day during my normal tag of war with him, my dad told me, ‘Just leave him alone. You can’t force love… but he’ll come to appreciate you someday.’ And I think that really sank in. Like so many times in our lives we force people to acknowledge our presence, to care for us, to love us back and it never happens. But when love is genuine, it doesn’t necessarily have to be mutual. Yet it will still be appreciated; sooner or later. Or maybe 16/18 years from now in shaa Allah, he’ll come read this and bring me converse and a Khaled Hosseini book (yes, I have my priorities right) with a sweet note who knows? 😀 So for now I’m okay with this hostile almost violent relationship we have. He is just two anyway. He hasn’t even started talking proper words apart from the gibberish noise and some Chinese sorta words he speaks. Otherwise, he’s this cute, very charming and kind baby. Totally adorable. So i’m planning to still keep him as my happy person because really, it is these little moments with him that really make my world. Alhamdulilah.

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DONGE GRAND IFTAR 2017

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Photos Courtesy: www.msa.co.ke / (#KiparaPhotography)

Martin Luther King Jr once said, “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?’” » Perhaps we really underestimate the power of coming together, of empathy and humanity, of love and kindness but let’s take a minute to be the ones on the other end receiving all the love and pure energy from all kinds of people. Try to imagine the bliss and the peace.

You being the one in a rocky hospital bed fighting for your life. You being the one who slept hungry for the past two days. You being the one who was robbed off your rights. You who couldn’t sleep because of a huge debt to be paid. And then someone and someone else and someone else, from different parts of the world come together and just decide, ‘let us relieve from him this burden’. Imagine the weight being lifted off your shoulders, the worries in your heart and the endless thoughts in your mind. This is what Mombasa Toa Donge lako is doing for so many people from years back.Indeed, when it comes to humanity, no deed is considered small.

Yesterday was my first time to attend the annual Iftar event usually held by the community group for orphans of different areas and my second time to attend any of their events. So basically, i’m not an active member but I’ve been spectator for long enough to know that this community group is doing a HUGE MEGA difference in people’s lives. Maybe they didn’t do it to you or your next door neighbour but they’ve held grand projects that have turned around the lives of some people. Let’s give credit where it is due; this community group is doing a much better job at the welfare of the society more than our leaders combined.

So I was just seated at the front rows silently as the program started and we heard the anasheeds from different kids, then a short quiz and then came the most moving part of the live testimonies from people who’ve been aided by the Donge group. You know, I just was watching Erray’s parents talk of their gone son and the great support offered to them both financially and emotionally and I just had mixed emotions. I see his mother cry when she talks of his son and his orphaned daughter and then I imagine how much more tears would she have shed if they never had a chance to even try out medication, or pay for his medication, or how they would start adjusting their lives to give a good life to Erray’s daughter without help. None of us can ever imagine. Several other people gave their testimonies and I was a bit overwhelmed seeing how successful the projects were. Trust me, it’s different when you see it online and when you actually see these people live like you really know them. When I saw baby Rahima and her mother I was immediately like, “Ah! I remember this cute face!” And it is just so nice to see these people with smiles on their faces, healthy and back on their feet. That, that right there is something we should never undervalue; the ability to put a smile back on someone’s face is a tremendous job.

The orphans that attended were 200 from 3 different institutions; both boys and girls and they were all too curious about the whole event. One of the caretakers of one institution was telling me, “This is the first time we have been taken to such a trip so they were really excited. We had to come half of us because we couldn’t all fit in the car.” When it was time for iftar, I saw some of the kids barely touching the snack container, another one was trying to peel off the egg layer from the katlesi. A friend of mine seated next to me asks them why they aren’t eating, the caretaker says, ‘hatujazoea hivi vyakula vya waarabu’ (We are not used to this Arab kind of foods. So the container basically had Potatoes, bhajia, kebabs, katlesi, tea/coffee, dates and mitai and I could see them scrutinize the food, dissecting them like it’s a biology experiment.
“What do they usually eat?” I ask.
“Ugali mostly with vegetables. Sometimes rice. Sometimes Chapati. Sometimes we have people bringing pilau for us. But you know Arabic food like this, when we leave here that’s the end of it…Look at their hands,” she holds one arm to show me, “see all these dark spots, it’s because of mosquitoes. We sleep at a school on the floor with too worn-out mattresses. Sometimes we get people who remember us. Sometimes we don’t. But life moves on.”
“Were the kids excited about coming here?”
“Of course they were…they won’t comment here but I know when we get back home they will all be having too much to say.” (In case someone is interested in visiting their institution; ‘Vision of Hope’ the lady is Zeitun Mwaka, her number is 0711 415 626 or her colleague Najma Mwanasiti: 0707 343 444) Yet I am sure there are many more orphans out there who are totally oblivious to what good delicacies look like or a good bed feels like. They are out there and they need us to go to them.

It was just a great feeling seating with them, eating next to them, praying beside them, seeing them rejoice eating biriani and other platters of food. Hearing them sing alongside brother Nassir as he sings his nasheeds; just too heartfelt.

I remember the excited looks of the children as they were given ice cream after the meal and it was in that merry moment, I noticed a young girl who went and gave a group of orphans some packets of chauro and I looked at how everyone was scrambling to get a packet and I say, ‘if only we appreciated these tiny blessings that we tend to overlook.’

Oh! and before I forget, I did get feedback from one of the orphans. As I was leaving some teenage age was happily telling her friends, “Nnashiba alhamdulilah! Mungu awabariki Donge” (I am full alhamdulilah. God bless Donge) by the way, the girls didn’t know I was listening so this was definitely genuine feedback. Imagine the rewards of making 200 orphans (and several other people) happy plus, in Ramadhan!!

I know the Donge staff, admins, volunteers, members and active members hear this a lot,but we just want to say it again. Thank you for being role models of kindness and humanity in the community. Thank you for being a symbol of hope to others. Thank you for your dedication and sacrifice. For your endless effort and patience to ensure projects are successful. For changing people’s lives and for restoring our faith in humanity. May Allah bless all those who attended, all those who made it possible, all those who participated directly or indirectly, all those whose hearts were in the event despite their absence. May the spirit of togetherness shine on for generations to come, may our intentions remain pure in helping people and may we be the hope in such a dark world. Ameen.

I just want to end it with this hadith, “Ibn `Umar (May Allah be pleased with them) reported: The Messenger of Allah (sa) said: “A Muslim is a brother of (another) Muslim, he neither wrongs him nor does hand him over to one who does him wrong. If anyone fulfills his brother’s needs, Allah will fulfill his needs; if one relieves a Muslim of his troubles, Allah will relieve his troubles on the Day of Resurrection…” [Bukhari and Muslim]. Keep doing good, keep being good, every small and large deed counts in Allah’s eyes.

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Deen (Religion)

WHAT DOES RAMADHAN MEAN TO YOU? #2

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

People who know me very well know two truths about me. One is that food and I don’t get along. Truth number two, food and I can’t really stay apart. We tend to have this love-hate relationship that never ends. You know, like Tom and Jerry? So most of the times it would roll out like this.

Me: “Aarghh, I’m starviingg” or “Yeepyyy can’t wait to have my delicious food!”

Two minutes into eating: “Really food? Really? All that joy, excitement, tears, anticipation and blood sacrifice yet this is all you offer?!! You and I are soo done!”

Also me: (every two hours) “I need you food 🙁 ” (There should have been the kermit meme image over here lol)

So automatically, truth number three is that fasting is my hardest ibadah.

Just the other day (4th of Ramadhan) I was walking in town headed home from work with a tiny flower between my fingers. So I was swirling it playfully, my mind so far deep in thoughts it took me time to realize there was an elderly man looking at me right ahead. He was in his traditional Swahili clothing of kikoi, shirt and kofia and he was looking into my face with such scrunity. I thought perhaps he is mistaking me for someone else so I went ahead and said the salam.
“Saumu inkushika?” He said, still giving me a concerned look. I just laughed it off and went on walking but I could still hear his voice behind me, “Saumu inkushika eh?! Nakuona…nakuona vile inkushika” *Face palm* I know right? And I just happen to be this frequent victim of having awkward embarrassing moments with strangers. But that’s a story for another day. Back to fasting…

Due to how much fasting drains me, at work and even at home, I always get comments like, “Can you walk? Lest you fall on the way.”
“Can you do this? Can you carry this?”
So every Ramadhan I’m subconsciously fully prepared to such teasing. Yet Ramadhan is still the best time for me.

You know, you walk around and see Muslims and you can greet each other, smile with that look like, ‘We know each other’s ‘suffering’ (not per say, but you know what I mean :p ) or like we are one people, we are partners in crime, something of the sort. The Ramadhan ambiance is special and it does feel so. Food stalls all over the streets during the evenings, people sending the kids to take a plate of goodies to the other neighbour and the other neighbour takes to the other and when known to be an awful cook, your food just seems to go in circles; forever trying to get a ‘mstiri’. Taraweh, tahajjud…the list is endless.

It’s that time where our mango trees produce in abundance. My mum would fill the bucket with mangoes and ask my brother to take to our neighbours. I would hear my dad get excited, reminding my brother of which neighbours to NOT miss. I would be standing there half-thrilled half-sorry that I am not the one to do that. You know, introvert problems? Mum would ensure to spice it up; ‘Ukigonga kila mlango, give them the mangoes then say Ramadhan kareem’ 😀 My brother puts on his kofia and sets out to knock doors. Then with a sigh and a smile, “I wish all year was Ramadhan.”

Muslims walking around just before Maghrib, sharing dates and water to fellow Muslims on the way. Some stranger passing dates to you to the back seat of a public vehicle so you can break your fast. I mean, any other random day we would probably pass by one another and I would mumble salaam and I wouldn’t even get a response or perhaps you’d mumble back or vice versa. But then Ramadhan, we have something making all of us familiar to one another such that we can strike random conversations with strangers on the way.

I am super delighted of how humanity is at its peak. We remember the orphans, the old, the sick…we remember to pray, to be more gentle, to read qur’an a lot, to hold back our insults, to donate, to forgive and most importantly, work on ourselves.

For me, besides it being the time for more Ibadah, Ramadhan is a time for me to work on my inner self. Get the peace of mind. Submit totally to Allah. And this is something many take for granted; our inner health. How composed are we to life? How much at peace are we with our fate? How much do we actually and sincerely talk to Allah? This is the time. It is my time to unleash my heart to Allah. It is my time to be a better human being not just for this month but for the rest of the year.

And as much as fasting is hard for me, Ramadhan has meant progress for me. I remember a time I would really admire people who could fast Monday and Thursday, Ayamil bayth or sitta min shawwal simply because I couldn’t do it. But then with every coming of Ramadhan, I tried more sunnah fasts and I keep trying over and over again. My biggest push has always been the thought that ‘If this is hard for me, then the rewards will definitely be more’ and that remains my motto as I keep trying.

Ramadhan means a lot of things to me; it means kindness, love and compassion. It means submission, forgiveness and willpower. It means struggle, endurance and success. Ramadhan means a lot to me. What about you? What does it mean to you??

 

On another note, my partner and I are embarking on another business journey, the branding of strokes of my pen. So alhamdulilah we have the first bunch of shirts out. We kindly ask for your support. Besides that, 10% of each shirt goes to Ahmad, a young boy who is undergoing kidney dialysis treatment yet he has a large outstanding balance at Pandya hospital to pay. If not the shirt then you can always mpesa their family directly (no. shown in image).Remember your reward is multiplied in this month so don’t hesitate to support in any little way in shaa Allah.

 

For the shirts, they come in colours of black, white, blue, grey and yellow. For more info: contact us via this no: 0734 201 665 or view our page: https://www.facebook.com/simplex.styles/. More is to come biidhnillah!

P.S. Please remember me in your duas! Whatever you pray for me, may you get just that a thousand more times. Ameen! Ramadhan Mubarak!

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Guest Posts

TO THE ONE I SECRETLY ADMIRE

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By: Zale Navi

Photo Courtesy: https://pixabay.com

My friends believe I will be single forever, they are not mean, don’t judge them too early. They have a reason to believe so. The check list of my dream guy, is quite surreal. I made it that way intentionally. The unrealistic check list helps me to dodge their nagging. You see, when most of your friends are married or are in some sort of a relationship and you’re not, they tend to try to give you options of a possible match for you. And so to discourage them from doing so, I make it impossible for the option to exist within their reach, at least until when I would want to find him. Sometimes, I think the reason why they would want me to be in a relationship so bad is so that I would understand them. But I do understand, I understand how it feels like to love someone more than you love yourself. This is what I feel for you.

Everyday you arrive at school at intervals of 8:20 a.m – 8:25 a.m. I arrive five minutes earlier than you, just so that I would be the first person you say hi to. I can only imagine you thinking it is a daily coincidence. Sorry for blowing up your bubble but it is more of a created, calculated and worked hard for coincidence. I pray everyday for a good day and I think The Guy Upstairs already knows, a good day for me means a glimpse of your face.

My friends would probably call me a hypocrite when they find out you are not tall, dark and handsome. They might beat me up for falling for a guy with unkempt hair. They would not understand that I am crazy for that hair and I day dream about entangling my fingers in them. They might not appreciate your smile; the reason for my accelerated heart beat, making me wonder are you the reason for my living or will you be the reason for my death. After all tachys (tachycardia) are not to be taken lightly. In your deep voice my favorite character from Avengers is brought to life, Thor. I don’t know the reason behind your dressing style, whether it is to express or depress, you never fail to impress me.


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Though creepy and absolutely crazy, I sometimes do eavesdrop into your conversations with your friends. Your witty-fullness makes me wish I was one of them. Still, I’m grateful to be among the few under your leadership; which by the way, you make it seem simple. I am in awe of how you manage to maintain respect and peace in the group. Looking at the world in our times, maintaining peace and respect is a great a accomplishment. Convincing me further that you will be the perfect companion in leading my life.

The highlight of my day is when you turn to me after explaining a concept in our group discussions and ask if I have understood. You leave me with a tingling feeling in my heart whenever you say “see you tomorrow or nice weekend” at the end of the day. And the onset for the anticipation for another chance to see you kicks in.
I have had many conversations with you in my head. Don’t worry, I have already done my research on cars; at least now I can differentiate them by other factors than colors. I however didn’t go into engines. I would rather listen to you explain that part to me. I wish you could see yourself while speaking about your love for cars. The excitement in your voice, the light in your eyes, sometimes I get jealous over it. And I hope, one day you will have a brighter glow when speaking about me.

You make thinking seem fun as you throw your pen up and catch it between your fingers in continuous motion. I don’t know if you notice it, but you have an annoying habit of smacking your lips. Well it used to disturb me, until it didn’t anymore. Now I find it cute. Whenever you are having a hard time to understand something and you mumble incoherent statements to yourself and the creases on your forehead increases twice the number, during such moments I wish I could tell you to take it slow and that it is okay to not get it sometimes.

Buddha said, and I’m paraphrasing; when you find ‘the one’, you will feel calm inside. Mostly that is how I feel whenever I’m around you. Serenity, no worries. May be it is because you’re constantly looking out for me, being the silent one in our group. I never stress over what I did not hear nor understand because you have always made sure none of us leave the discussion group empty headed. You care, and that is important trait for any human being.

It is strange and arguably unrealistic to fall in love with someone you know nothing about. To feel so strongly towards someone you only see and hardly talk to except for exchange of few words formally. May be that is so because we think of love as being hard and complicated. But love is not a vocabulary to be looked up in Oxford Dictionary; love is simple, when you see it, you know it, you feel it and most importantly want to be with the one you love.

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Creative Fiction

DIARY OF JANE; The Murder Series (Part 1)

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Photo Courtesy: Unknown

It Began With Death

I looked on
At the death of your
Laughter,
Watched as tears came down your face
Like angels of
Life,
Gleaming like silver-winged diamonds
Caught in the gold beams
Of the sun’s web.
One after the other
They carried your laughter down
To the surface,
Where the rest of the world
Received everything that
Your sky eyes let go.
There,
The wind brought forth
Loose fragments of the memories
You left behind…
The blushes…
The love…
The kisses…
And gathered it over the grave
Where broken hearts lay.
And I could only watch
As your world
Collapsed
Into yawning black holes
Filled with
Undying ghosts of the
Non-existent.

***

She watched the world in silence, letting the solace of the cold winter wind wash out dying embers of a once raging inferno that still charred the inner parts of her being, drowning any semblance of light inside with blackness as ancient as night itself. It has been days, and time still persistently dragged her back to empty avenues of memory lane where pain rained on the reminiscence, soaking her reality in gloom that doomed blooming colors to a grey hell.

“Hey! Hey Luna! Are you listening to me?”
Tiffany was at her side, her black eyes straining to find the open latches to the windows of her soul, finding only hollowness instead. They had been sitting at the restaurant for hours now, steam dancing between them like misguided ghosts from the heat of their coffee cups.

“Lu I know what he did to you was wrong, but you have to let me in, I want to help you. You have to let him go. I have to see you letting him go.”
“I want to, I really do T. But I don’t know what kind of person I’m supposed to be anymore. How can I let you in when I don’t even know myself anymore?”
“I know its not easy. It can’t be. But I know your pain won’t last forever. Don’t look back, there’s nothing there…”

She was right. As cruel as Tiffany’s words were she was still right. She always was.

Looking back felt like she was looking for things she could never find…light she could never see…the touch that she would never feel…a face she’d never wake up to again…

“I’m trying, but its hard letting go of someone who could love you like that!”
She could hear how soft the words fell from her wounded lips, torn by the endless nights she spent sobbing, as she watched the girl in the mirror crucify her lips upside down. Tears that dwelled from the seams of her ashened depths were now rounding the corner of her glass eyes, willing them to break one more time. She held her breath, hoping to suffocate the growing buzz of his voice…
His words…
His eyes…
His deceit…
“…I just don’t understand! I just don’t understand at all! Am I cursed to be this way?! Do I fall in love too hard every time just so karma can stab another knife through me deeper & deeper again?! What did I ever do to deserve this?!”

Familiar hands wrapped themselves around her own, as Tiffany moved her seat closer to Luna to comfort her. She hated it all. Hated how this angel she has always known to be the kindest girl in the world could never be given the love that she deserves. She was perfect to her, more perfect than she could have ever been, and had a beautiful soul. And today is the third time she’s seen it crushed, but the hardest she has ever seen her hurt. It made her angry…vengeful…almost like she could walk out there & kill him right now…
“He deserves to die.”

It was a surprise saying it out loud like that. And they both laughed at the thought. It was the first time she successfully made her laugh in a long while since the breakup 3 months ago.
“Damn right he does!” Luna added.
They laughed harder this time. For once, talking about death didn’t feel like a bad thing. It was just simple. Innocent. A release from the grip of an already dying reality. An escape from whatever fate time had conceived for her. And they laughed on, chiming out the gloom like church bells in the rain.
…That was how it all began.

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