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Creative Fiction

THIS FEELS LIKE THE BEGINNING OF THE END

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Someone asked about you today, and for the first time, I smiled. And I smiled more at my ability to smile. I didn’t have tears in my eyes, or heaviness in my chest. For the first time, I wasn’t a time bomb ready to tick off at the very mention of your name. Instead, I talked about you the same way I talk about the moon; so far yet so near. A beauty that demands to be felt and remembered and cherished. Then it hit me; this is truly the beginning of the end.

The end of an era.

The end of the beginning.

***

I divide my lifespan into two; before you and after you. Yes, that is very much a thing. Because it is only once in a lifetime that we meet people who shift our lives; turn our lives around 360 degrees, move our souls from point A to point B, give us glasses so we can view the world from their eyes, and oh the beauty! The beauty of seeing me through you…You changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You added colour into my life, and you know, I love colours! I became a different person. I am a different person.

Grieving you has been the most painful process. It is just one of those losses you expect to carry along with you forever. You heal, but you never realllyyy heal you know? But that’s not how I want to remember you. I have been back and forth with the stages of grief; up and down with it for years, and there’s a lot of ugliness, bitterness, anger and darkness. There’s a lot that I had to unpack to get where I am today; the beginning of the end, so today I choose how I want to honour your memory.

I want to remember you for restoring my faith in humanity. For showing me compassion I never thought I deserved. A level of compassion I never thought existed, at least not for me. For reminding me that a giver ought to receive too. For being kind to me even in instances when I was extremely difficult. For giving me a new meaning of empathy and friendship.

I want to remember your loud laughter that came so easily. For the entire meme conversations we’d have. For the times when I’d be overthinking and you’d tease me for my ridiculous and wild thoughts and in turn, made me laugh too. For the moments we’d laugh at our own misery and laugh even more at our own helplessness. For the times you’d chuckle at my pronunciation whenever I said ‘Allahu Must3an’ and you’d try to imitate me. I want to recall how you could make me laugh and smile even at the very lowest points in my life.

I want to cherish the memory of you for letting me be myself, even when I was unlikable. For always telling me, ‘what if it all works out?’ when I had so much anxiety and many doubts. For making me look at myself (right after crying) in the mirror and smile for as long as it would take until I could genuinely smile. For staying around when I pushed everyone away. For staying around when I needed you around.

I am grateful for the way you saw me; my bare soul. You cherished it and honoured it more than anyone else ever did. That you understood me deeply; both my spoken words and my deep silence. That you gave me a safe haven to talk about anything without feeling judged or misunderstood. And I want to remember that. I want to remember what it means to be held dearly and be loved purely and wholeheartedly.

You pushed me to be better, always. And you cared so deeply I actually believed that anything could be possible for me. And I want to remember it all. The whole of it; the moments you stayed silently by my side till I could get a hold of my breath, the moments you talked to me for so long even when you had your own heavy burdens weighing you down.

I want to recall all the nicknames you had for me. The funny ones, the silly ones, the annoying ones. I want to remember how they came about. All the exceptional and hilarious movie characters that you thought were me. I want to remember the conversations we had on life; from travel to religion to family to our deepest selves.

Conversations on God with you were my favourite. There was only one way to describe that profoundness; that you were my gift from Allah. However temporary a gift is, it still remains to be valuable…unforgettable.

Someone asked me about you today, and I smiled. I’m sure you’d be proud of me. Proud of the growth that came from the very long, exhausting journey. Proud that I kept my word to fulfill my 2020 goal. Yet somehow, you’d still know that I am crying as I write this. You knew me painfully well, darn you! But I also know what you’d say: ‘sasa walia nini mwanamke?’ and somehow, just somehow, you’d be able to make me laugh right after.

This feels like the beginning of the end. I’m finally learning to let you go; to leave you in the hands of He who brought you to me in the first place. And it is a very bitter-sweet moment. Bitter because, will I ever be lucky to find such a deep, heart-felt friendship ever again? Sweet because, I know Allah will take way better care of you than I would ever have. Either way, I am glad of the growth. The fog seems to be settling. If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll finally reach the light.

To say you’re missed is an understatement. But your memory will always remain intact with me, I promise. I will remember you with every sunset, and every drone taking breath-taking photographs, and every angry sheikh lecturing with so much intensity lool and every human that has to be reminded to smile and every meme collection that I would have otherwise sent you while you complain about the spams haha. The list is long but you get the gist?

My prayer is that you’re in a better and happier place; both physically and emotionally. May Allah place you under His wing of mercy. May He love you, may He take care of you like you did with me… and more, may He bless you, and may He fill your soul with peace, joy, and tranquility.

This is how I choose to let you go– You might be away but still in my duas.

I say thank you for everything. Thank you for being you.

Stay safe favourite human…please take care of your soul 🙂

Love,

Sierra.

***

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Deen (Religion)

WOMEN OF JANNAH: MARYAM BINT ‘IMRAN

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This article (the edited version) was first posted on the Standard Newspaper, Ramadhan insert on 1st May 2020.

Photo Courtesy: Ahmed Elmawi.

Ibn Abbas reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “The best of women among the people of Paradise are Khadija bint Khuwaylid, Fatimah bint Muhammad, Maryam bint ‘Imran, and ‘Asiyah bint Muzahim, the wife of Pharaoh.” For our Ramadhan series in shaa Allah, we will discuss the stories of these four magnificent women. Today we start with the story of Maryam Aleyha ssalam. Bismillah.

#The Dua (The Prayer)

It all begins with one beautiful dua. One sincere supplication. One important pledge by a pious mother. Hannah, the wife of Imran and mother of Maryam,   made a special dua when she became pregnant.

“Mention, (O Muhammad), when the wife of Imran said, “My Lord indeed I have pledged to you what is in my womb, consecrated (for your service), so accept this from me. Indeed, you are the Hearing, the Knowing.” Then she goes on to say, “And I have named her Mary, and I seek refuge for her in You and (for) her descendants from Satan, the expelled (from the Mercy of Allah.)” (Qur’an; 3: 35-36)

This supplication was accepted by Allah Subhanahu Waatala and Maryam became the greatest woman of her generation. She was very devoted, very pious, very chaste; the noblest and purest of all women. And just as her mother had pledged, Maryam did become attached to the service of the Sacred House to worship Allah therein. Take note that the dua wasn’t just for Maryam. Hannah included her descendants in it, and thereafter Maryam’s son, Essa aleyhi ssalam became a prophet. This also shows the importance of choosing a pious spouse who will thereafter be a guiding light to the children.

It all began with a dua. Something we sometimes take so much for granted. It reminds us of the power of dua and its huge capacity to change fate. Allah Subhanahu Wataala says: “And your Lord says, “Call upon Me; I will respond to you.”” (Qur’an; 40: 60)

Common misconception is that Allah Subhanahu Wataala only responds to the pious. You might be thinking, ‘But I am not Hannah, the wife of Imran who was mentioned in the Qur’an, why would Allah respond to me?’ Yes, Allah will respond to you because you are His beloved and He loves you just as well. He will respond to you if only you take a moment to raise your hands and supplicate sincerely. Yes, He will respond because He says:

“And when My servants ask you, [O Muhammad], concerning Me – indeed I am near. I respond to the invocation of the supplicant when he calls upon Me. So let them respond to Me [by obedience] and believe in Me that they may be [rightly] guided.” (Qur’an; 2: 186)

Take note, Allah in the verse above says, ‘when my servant’, he does not say, ‘when the believer, the super pious, the prophet’ he says ‘I respond the invocation of the supplicant’, that means anyone. You, me, even the worst sinner on earth, Allah hears all our supplications and He will respond. He will respond.

#The Girl Child

After Hannah pledged to Allah that her child will be of His service, she eventually gave birth to a girl. She then said to Allah, and I quote from the Qur’an :

“But when she delivered her, she said, “My Lord, I have delivered a female.” And Allah was most knowing of what she delivered, and the male is not like the female…” (Qur’an; 3: 36)

Hannah goes ahead and shares her concern with her Lord, ‘she is a girl’. How will a girl be in service to a place of worship? How will a girl preach about the religion? The male is definitely not like the female. But Allah Subhanahu Wataala narrates to us, that HE KNEW that it was a girl. That was no accident. It wasn’t by mistake that she gave birth to a girl. Yet Allah knew that this same girl would be one of the greatest, most devoted person in His worship.

“And (mention) when the angels said, “O Mary, indeed Allah has chosen you and purified you and chosen you above the women of the worlds. O Mary, be devoutly obedient to your Lord and prostrate and bow with those who bow in prayer.” (Qur’an: 3:42-43)

You still think the girl child is under-valued and oppressed in Islam? Think again!

#Allah’s Rizq (Allah’s provision)

There is this common saying that goes like, ‘If human beings were responsible for our provision, then we’d definitely starve to death.’ Well luckily then, our Lord is the Giver and He is Most Merciful with His servants and we get to learn something through Maryam’s story.

“So her Lord accepted her with good acceptance and caused her to grow in a good manner and put her in the care of Zechariah. Every time Zechariah entered upon her in the prayer chamber, he found with her provision. He said, ‘O Mary, from where is this (coming) to you?’ She said, ‘It is from Allah. Indeed, Allah provides for whom He wills without account.” (Qur’an; 3:37)

Allah gives to whomever He wills. Some people get more than others, some get less than others and that is all part of Allah’s test and decree upon us. And when you have trust and faith in Allah, He always blesses you beyond what you expect.

“…And whoever fears Allah – He will make for him a way out. And will provide for him from where he does not expect…” (Qur’an; 65: 2-3)

#Qadar of Allah (Decree of Allah)

“And mention, [O Muhammad], in the Book [the story of] Mary, when she withdrew from her family to a place toward the east. And she took, in seclusion from them, a screen. Then We sent to her Our Angel, and he represented himself to her as a well-proportioned man. She said, “Indeed, I seek refuge in the Most Merciful from you, [so leave me], if you should be fearing of Allah .” He said, “I am only the messenger of your Lord to give you [news of] a pure boy.” She said, “How can I have a boy while no man has touched me and I have not been unchaste?” He said, “Thus [it will be]; your Lord says, ‘It is easy for Me, and We will make him a sign to the people and a mercy from Us. And it is a matter [already] decreed.’ ” (Qur’an: 19: 16-21)

Indeed, it is a matter already decreed. A closed case. Imagine being in Maryam’s shoes; a woman known for her chastity and devoutness is suddenly pregnant. Imagine the despair, the agony and the great fear. This was a tragedy for her. Her chastity and purity was in question. Despite being so pious, Allah still put her through a huge test. That was Allah’s decree for her because He had better plans for her. He knew that she would give birth to a prophet who would speak at birth, do unconceivable miracles and call people to the religion of Allah. He knew that there was actually a greater good to come from it. So yes, Allah will always test us; whether we are the most pious or the biggest sinners. We will all feel the pinch of this worldly life, but it is not just for no reason. Allah knows why He gave you the struggle that you do. You might never realize it, but there’s always some good in it. Allah reminds us here why we are tested:

“Do the people think that they will be left to say, “We believe” and they will not be tried? But We have certainly tried those before them, and Allah will surely make evident those who are truthful, and He will surely make evident the liars.” (Qur’an; 29: 2-3)

Yet still he reminds us of His promise:

 “Verily, I have rewarded them this Day for their patience; they are indeed the ones that are successful” [Qur’an; 23:111] 

#Sorrow

We all face sorrow at some point in our lives. Some huger than others yet Allah does not burden us except that we can handle, so each is given as per their ability to persevere. So here was Maryam aleyha ssalam, pregnant yet unmarried. What does she do? She goes away to a remote place.

“So she conceived him, and she withdrew with him to a remote place. And the pains of childbirth drove her to the trunk of a palm tree. She said, “Oh, I wish I had died before this and was in oblivion, forgotten.” (Qur’an: 19: 22-23)

Here we come to the issue of mental health whereby we still somewhat regard it a taboo to talk about in our societies. Maryam aleyha ssalam was in so much pain and anguish, she wished for death. This brings one reality to light; however much we deny it, sometimes people do wish for death. Whether pious or not, it happens to the best among us. It doesn’t necessarily mean one has weak imaan (sometimes it is), sometimes, our human nature unintentionally takes over our faith and we fall into despair. Yet, grief and sadness is not something new. Prophet Ya’qoob aleyhi ssalam wept over the loss of his beloved Yusuf until he lost his eyesight. Prophet Muhammad was so saddened by the death of his wife Khadijah and his uncle Abu Talib that that year was called ‘the year of sorrow.’ And when his son Ibrahim died, ‘tears began to fall from the eyes of the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ). He said: The eye weeps and the heart grieves, but we say only what our Lord is pleased with, and we are grieved for you, Ibrahim.’ (As narrated by Anas Ibn Malik).

Indeed sadness is part of human nature, and does not necessarily make someone less pious for feeling sorrowful over what has befallen them. Yet still, we are always reminded to be patient and have faith in Allah’s decree.

Narrated Anas bin Malik:The Prophet (ﷺ) said, “None of you should wish for death because of a calamity befalling him; but if he has to wish for death, he should say: “O Allah! Keep me alive as long as life is better for me, and let me die if death is better for me.’ “

So whenever the pain of this life overpowers you, remember that we have a Most Merciful Lord over-watching you. Indeed, you have no better Protector. And when you are around a grieving person, be kind, empathic and compassionate. We all need support systems.

#Tawakkul (Reliance on Allah)

Despite being in great pain, angel Jibril asks Maryam to shake the palm tree so she can get the ripe dates.

“But he called her from below her, “Do not grieve; your Lord has provided beneath you a stream. And shake toward you the trunk of the palm tree; it will drop upon you ripe, fresh dates. So eat and drink and be contented…’” (Qur’an: 19: 24-26)

Remember at this point Maryam is in labour, how will she do that? Where will she get the strength from? But Allah still gave her ease in it.

“And whoever relies upon Allah – then He is sufficient for him. Indeed, Allah will accomplish His purpose. Allah has already set for everything a [decreed] extent.” (Quran; 65:3)

#Parting Note

The story of Maryam and her son, Eesa aleyhim ssalam and the lessons from within are many. The above mentioned are but the very few. With all that is going on right now, having Ramadhan during a pandemic, is a very sad situation, yet we can still make the best use of this time for self-reflection, more ibadah (worship) and seeking more knowledge. For more details on Maryam’s story, you may read surat Maryam, some parts of Surat Imran and other Surahs in the Qur’an.

May Allah protect us during these trying times, may He grant us peace and tranquility, may He bless us, may He accept us repentance and our good deeds. Ameen. Stay safe wherever you are and Ramadhan Mubarak!

***

Note: This is just my small effort in trying to research on this topic in the best of my ability. Kindly pardon me for any mistakes and don’t hesitate to correct me if anything.

To ensure that you don’t miss out on any of the parts of this series, kindly subscribe below, and please share the articles so that more people may benefit in shaa Allah 🙂

Sources:

The Qur’an Translation

The Superstars series by Sheikh Omar Suleiman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZgJuK0OtRf8

Islamic Guidance channel: Maryam [AS]: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20EbcIR6fr8

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Inspiration

VULNERABILITY IS NOT A DEFECT

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I see you. I see you stare hard into your mirror till your reflection blurs. I see you follow the green veins protruding on your arm till they disappear somewhere just before your elbow. I see the sadness in your eyes. The deep, deep sadness in your eyes.

There’s this saying that goes like, “The Eyes are the window to your soul”. I believe this saying was meant for you. Because your eyes, your eyes have seen what most never have. Your eyes are a world of its own.

I see you wear your heart on your sleeves every morning as you walk out into the perfect storm. You do this every single day. Tirelessly. Repeatedly. And in the evening, you come back with your heart worn off. Filled with scratches, tears and slits from all the beasts you encounter in the wilderness. I see you sit on the cold floor, hugging yourself in between tears, slowly caressing your wounds. You lick them till the redness fades away. And you go to sleep, scared to death, with a heavy heart, really really overwhelmed brain…yet, the next day, I see you do it all over again; wear your tattered heart like it is brand new again. Into the wilderness. Into the storm. With a beautiful smile on your face. To fight like you’ve never done before. To absorb all the emotions you encounter; the pain, the misery, the joy and the love. Oh! the love!

I truly believe that you’re really brave; no exaggerations I promise. I believe that it takes a really huge heart, a very resilient human to be just what you naturally are.

I watch you. I watch you lay down the stones, leading the way to the ocean. I watch you welcome every Jane, Julia and Jessica to view the spectacular scenery. The serene ocean. The beautiful sunset. The standing-tall palm trees. I watch as they step on the stones you just laid down, sinking them into the wet sand. I watch you as everyone leaves. As everyone hurts you.

I see you open up your chest widely apart, at the middle of the road, for everyone to see what’s inside you; daring people to come closer, touch your brokenness. I see you speak your truth, honestly, maybe too honestly, it numbs those around you. I see you hand out love like free Christmas gifts as everyone stares on. I see you cry, heart-wrenching sort of cry, the is-she-crazy sort of cry.

They think you’re like a broken tap; emotions oozing out of you like a river. ‘Aint those a little too much?’ they ask.
‘Shouldn’t you be a little bit stronger?’

I watch you crumble as people stare at you. As people question your sanity. As people call you weak.

“You should hold it back.
Trim down the honesty.
Reveal only a very tiny bit of yourself.
My God! DO NOT LOVE HARD LIKE THAT!!!
You need to build that wall within you.
Who cares about being raw anyway?!
Bring down those emotions a notch.
Why do you allow yourself to care that much?!
How do you expect people not to hurt you when you let them in too deep?”

I watch you as people make you question, ‘what is wrong with me?’

I watch you fight the battle within you. That only you will ever see. I watch you shower happiness into people, like you never needed it. I watch you over-pour yourself into people’s cups. I watch you care. I watch you extend the goodness in you to those around you. I watch you love like there’s no tomorrow. I watch you touch souls. I watch you attend to others’ wounds. I watch you empathize. Change lives. Make it better for everyone. I watch you soldier on, despite all they say and do to you. I watch you adapt and learn. I watch you feel. I watch you open up to the world like a flower, ready to bloom. I watch you take the risk, every single day, to be your true self. To own up to your mistakes. To reach out to others. To be genuine. Authentic. Raw. And brave, very very brave.

I don’t care what they say, I believe vulnerability is not a defect.

I see you.

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Creative Non-Fiction

PIECES OF MY HEART (PART 1)

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Image Courtesy: https://www.bookurve.com

I am not an avid reader. There, I said it! In broad daylight! (Or rather, in dark nightlight 😀 ) Do nerds do honor killing as well? Coz I could be the next victim of a ‘ruthless word-murder case on twitter.’ It is always on twitter, right? However, I am a big believer of quality over quantity (See my excuse 😀 ) I love taking time with books so that I can really absorb and ponder what’s in it. Also, overthink about everything in it, the sequel if there was any, feel the pain of the characters excessively to a fault and take time to heal too lol. The only books I don’t keep down are the thriller/crime/mystery books (which are my favourites by the way) because I totally love how they keep me on the edge. Sometimes though, we have the reallllyyy moving books that are just too profound to keep down, those too. Otherwise, I’m not rushing anywhere. Quality reading y’all! (P.S I really respect avid readers. I admire their deep commitment).

Good Lord. We have some really A.M.A.Z.I.N.G books out there and picking the best ones is really a task. Nonetheless, here are my top books that I’ve read so far:

Please note that there may be a feeew spoilers here!

1. THE KITE RUNNER BY KHALED HOSSEINI

I LOVE THIS BOOK. I LOVE KHALED HOSSEINI. And to date there is no single book I have ever read that made me feel what I feel about the Kite Runner or even Khaled Hosseini’s works. He is the absolute best writer ever. Don’t argue with me!

The Kite Runner is a coming-of-age story revolving around Amir (who longs deeply for his father’s affection), his best friend Hassan, Hassan’s father Ali (who is the servant of Amir’s family) and the very tragic war in Afghanistan. Amir and Hassan share an extra-ordinary bond of friendship and love but the unthinkable happens when Amir betrays his childhood best friend at a very critical moment (no spoilers!) They eventually separate when Amir immigrates with his father to US. The story has a huge plot twist, a very sad one,towards the end of the story concerning the two boys.

This book is very sweet, and heart-breaking, and sad, and heart-warming and very moving at the same time. An emotional roller coaster. And perhaps I love it deeply because the story-line concentrates a lot on friendship, something I really value. It has a special place in my heart and I never lend this book to anyone unless I REALLY trust you because ‘I AM GIVING YOU A PIECE OF MY HEART’ 😀 It is one of those books you finish reading and you HATE that you are done with it, yet you are crying and you hate that it made you cry but you still text your friend and say, ‘You MUST read this book. 11/10 recommend!’

Honestly, Khaled Hosseini is my writing guru. Ultimately, I hope that one day I can write and move mountains within people like he does with his stories (and in real life too!! He does a lot of projects helping refugees!!)

2. A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS BY KHALED HOSSEINI

YES!! HIM AGAIN!! And when you read the book you will understand why.

This book will STING you to the core. The story revolves around two women; Mariam and Laila.

Mariam is the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy businessman which makes her and her mother, Nana as outcasts. Mariam loves her father dearly and yearns to live with him at all times. However, this desire leads to her mother’s death and eventually her forced marriage. On the other galaxy, is Laila, a young girl loses both her parents due to a stray rocket during the soviet union invasion in Afghanistan. Laila loses her best friend too, Tariq whose family decides to move to Pakistan.

An unexpected twist happens when Mariam’s husband decides to marry the young Laila as his second wife since Mariam had failed to conceive. The two women don’t get along at first but they eventually realize they are both on the same side.

The story is about their huge struggles as women, instances where society fails them in a terrible way and how fate brings them together to become co-wives. The story has themes on fate, war, marriage, domestic violence, machoism, the plight of the girl child, culture, family and mostly love; the struggles that Laila and Tariq experience (don’t ask me if they meet again. READ THE BOOK!!), in pursuit of their happy ending. This book will make you CRY (or maybe I just cry a lot lol) but either way you will have that kiazi on your throat in several instances in the book. It is a master-piece. A tragic one but a really beautiful one nonetheless.

You can thank me later!!

3. A TEMPORARY GIFT BY ASMAA HUSSEIN

Amr Kassem a 26 year old man, was murdered in 2013 while going home after a peaceful protest in Alexandria, Egypt.  Him and the many other people were rallying against the mass injustices under the command of AbdelFattah al-Sisi. He left behind his very heart-broken widow, Asmaa and their daughter Ruqaya. The book consists of journal entries of his widow, Asmaa, two years after his death. The book is sweet, heart-warming (concerning the two as a couple), spiritual but mostly heart-breaking. The intensity of it is on another level. I however love how despite the deep darkness, Asmaa was always seeking God and light. She would find the courage to trust that God’s plan is the best.  It is definitely a spiritually uplifting book that will be a game-changer for so many people.

The book talks on love, marriage, fate, death, deep grief, faith, and outstanding patience.

By the way, this is a true story, not fiction. You can check out her page on Instagram @ruqayas.bookshelf or her website: ruqayasbookshelf.com in which this book is sold as well. Help a widow by buying her book y’all 🙂

4. THE BOOK THIEF BY  MARKUS ZUSAK

First, this book is very unique because DEATH is the narrator in the book (Imagine hearing Death’s point of view of people and life!) He tells the story of Liesel, a young girl who has a traumatic experience of losing her younger brother during their journey to the Hans family (which adopts her) and thereafter losing her mother who leaves never to return. Liesel steals several books in the story, thus becoming ‘the book thief’ and it is this deep love of books that eventually saved her from death.

The family that adopted her was of Hans Hubermann and Rosa, who she doesn’t like much at first. The story happens during the world war II in Germany and despite them not being Jewish, they do not agree with the Nazi regime. They then hide a Jewish boy, Max, in their basement to protect him, who thereafter becomes very fond of young Liesel.

Liesel also forms a special friendship with Rudy Steiner, who impacts her life in a huge way. Their bond is highlighted in a large part of the book which makes it very intriguing.

The story takes a slow move at first and takes a while before it catches up speed (It is a big book). I almost underestimated it because I am not a big fan of slow moving stories, however, I am very glad to have given Markus a chance and read his work to the end.

I believe this is one of the most powerful books ever written. Liesel will steal your heart with her innocence, her pain, her love for books and her sweet nature. The story revolves around war, love, kindness, books, friendship and cruelty.

5. TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE BY MITCH ALBOM

This is a memoir of a student, Mitch and his ailing professor, Morrie who is diagnosed with ALS (a disease that causes the death of neurons controlling voluntary muscles). Upon knowledge of his professor’s ailment, 16 years after his graduation, he visits him and spends valuable time with him. For the next fourteen weeks, Mitch visits Morrie every Tuesday and they discuss issues like death, self-pity, family, marriage, aging, and a wide variety of other topics. We get to experience death alongside Morrie whose health deteriorates over the weeks but in the meanwhile, learn very valuable lessons that Mitch learns from him.

I say this is a book of wisdom, especially considering this is a true story. The bond between teacher and student is very beautiful and from the two, you learn truths about life and you are challenged too. This is the kind of book you sit with a pencil or a highlighter because it is a journey worth noting down.

There are many many books I want to talk about and deserve to be talked about but I chose this because I learn a lot from the above mentioned. I also now realize all these are rather ‘sad’ stories, but good news is, it is TOTALLY worth the tears. Enjoy!!

P.S. Part 2 will be more exciting stories I promise! In shaa Allah.

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Creative Fiction

SILENCE

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Silence. Silence is over-rated. Silence is golden, but not so golden. I know silence because I have mastered it. My current read is ‘Silence is my mother tongue’ by Sulaiman Addonia and the last time I talked to anyone is months ago.

As I hit rock bottom and eventually made it my permanent home, silence is the only way to speak. Silence until you hear your own fading heartbeat. Silence until your legs warm up to the extremely cold water as you continue drowning. Silence until it becomes sharp and loud, your body disappearing into the blueness. That’s how much I relate to silence. That’s how much I am the silence.

Staring at my mirror, I touch the strings of my grey, white hair. Wrinkles staring back at me. Cheeks flabby like inflated balloons. How did I get old too fast to notice? If I died in this empty house or went missing right now, no one will notice immediately. The first person will notice a week later at least. In the midst of her shuffling between her busy schedules, it will strike her. Silence is not always good. She will remember. In the midst of her jolliness, she will remember me the way you remember that you left a child all alone at home or when you lose a toddler in a busy supermarket. Sudden. Almost in a panic. God knows she cares.

The second one will notice roughly a month later. No blame whatsoever because that’s how we roll.

My son would be the last one to realize. News would get to him as the stranger he’s become.

I lie down on my bed, hands stretched apart wondering how to do this the right way. He’s leaving the house. He wants to start a new life in a new city with some of his friends. He had said it so casually like I was but a nanny to him. How does one live alone after their entire lives revolved around one person and they left? How does a fifty five year old woman restart her life afresh? How do I break the habit of worrying about his asthma whenever the weather gets too cold? Or cook food just for one? How do I be myself without him?

He has grown now. He wants to go after his dreams. Build an empire of his own. Make new friends. Have a new family. But what does that leave me with?
I know how this works okay. I know. First comes in the distance. Then the busy schedules and less conversations. Then less visits home. Then the small talk, hurried phone calls. Then silence.

I know how this works because that is how it went down with everyone else. He was the only one left and that too, I am losing now.

I don’t want to be the selfish kind of mother. I don’t want to cage him. I don’t want to tighten my grip on him way too much until he slips away in between my fingers. He already slipped though. But how do I let go of him without losing him entirely? Is that even possible? Fathomable?

How do I start self-discovery at this age and time? How do I ask myself what is really my favourite meal after his, became mine? How do I identify what I love about life when I see a drone flying past and I smile because I love what he loves? Does that even make sense?

I don’t have friends. Okay, I have two out-of-this-world friends who have many other friends. That makes me very dismissible. Very much replaceable. I don’t have friends because I thought being a dedicated mother would cover it all. Because his friends became my friends and my sons too. Because I could always expect to walk into the house and see him with a group of them fighting over food. I didn’t prepare for this. No one prepared a single, obsessive mother of the day she will have to let go of not just her son, but her life as well. Because now, how do we untwine all that we have? Our entire lives? Emotions, Books, Thoughts, the pictures in the album, moments. How do we share them between us like, ‘This is mine, this is yours.’ How do I even know what was really mine for my own sake and what was mine because he was in it?

Listen to the silence in my room. In my house. In my big, empty house. It reminds me of my own soul. Lost within all the familiarity.

How do I love without being the enemy? How do I respect his decision of moving on without crying, without it eating me up like wasted wood on fire? How do I deal with nostalgia; the literally painful pangs of missing him without going insane? How do I become the good, understanding and supportive mother without losing my essence? The very thing I was living up for?

Apparently this is how life is. Everyone eventually leaves. Whether it is by travelling, going after dreams, changed priorities, death, unresolved matters, masks falling off…whatever it is, they eventually leave. How then can I hope for love as intense as my own from anyone? At this age and time? How then do I expect to ever get in return what I give out without holding anything back?

If I died or went missing, barely anyone would notice. And now, I am losing the only beautiful thing in my life. Tell me, tell me…how do I love and let go without losing him entirely?

SILENCE.

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Creative Fiction

YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN

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You have done it again. You have, in your stubborn nature, done it again. Unbelievable! Annoyingly unbelievable. But for your mother, it isn’t exactly unbelievable. All she ever said when she knew what you’ve done was, ‘What is new…’ Even so, her voice was heavy and almost cold when you told her of your crisis. You are her son after all; even when she knew how shady and irresponsible you are, she still hoped and prayed for you to change and settle down.

The last time it happened, it was three years back, when you started going after the mother of your ex fiancée. Hell broke loose. Insults were thrown. Your mother was abused right on her face. About how she hadn’t raised you well. How she had horribly failed as a mother. There were blows thrown on your face by your fiancée. Tears. A lot of tears. And of course shouting. The neighbours were all there; whispering, staring and shaking heads. A disgrace. You’ve always been a disgrace to your mother, your family and community.

You tried to protect your mother. Tried to stop both mother and daughter from dragging your mother in the mud. But your mother had always been dragged into your mud and she always cleaned it up. Maybe that was her mistake. Maybe her biggest mistake was that she hoped her son will change and that it was just the hot-youth hormones within you burning you into ashes. This too shall pass, she convinced herself. He will grow up soon. So she took it all in; the insults, the stares and being the black sheep of the family.

Everyone said it was because she is a single mother. She needed a man and you needed a father to put you in your right place. That she was weak-hearted towards you. You are her only son and her only child anyway. People said a lot of things. But you knew better. You know better. You know how your mother gave you endless pep-talks about respecting women. How she warned you not to be what your father was to her. You know how your mother struggled to bring food to the table. You know how she taught you about God. About empathy and compassion. You, better than anyone else, know how she would cry alone silently and the only thing you’d hear from the next room is her frequent sniffs. You know how she’d wake up with eyes swollen and red like ripe tomatoes, laughing nervously and blaming her allergies for it. You know. You know.

Mother and daughter broke your mother’s heart into pieces just like you had broken their relationship; their bond, their home. Who gets in between a mother and daughter anyway?

Your mother cried her heart off and begged for death. She begged for a calamity. She begged for cancer and a fire to burn her down into nothingness. She begged for the angel of death to appear. She begged. She begged a lot. That was when you promised that you’d change. You promised never to let her down again. You promised her to be a better person; a better man.

Years went by and your mother stayed by your side. Praying for you. Guiding you. Loving you. For a moment you settled. For a moment, there weren’t any scandals happening. You just stayed low key. You travelled to the Middle East to start afresh. For a moment, it was quiet. Your mother held her breath; always scared on a phone call that would inform of her of your other evil-doing or worse. But for a moment, nothing happened. For a moment, she believed you had changed and settled.

Then came the late night phone call. It was you once again, calling from the Saudi cell. You have been arrested for impregnating a minor. A 16 year old. Your mother’s silence on the other side of the phone was too loud you could hear her cry and touch her anguish. She barely said before she ended the call.

You are here now. Holding the cell bars with both your hands. Looking outside as the police officers pace back and forth as they speak in Arabic. Big macho men hovering around you. Pee stench all over the place. Guilt is chewing on your heart like sugarcane, only your heart is not as sweet. Maybe just bitter. You want your mother to speak to you. To say it’s going to be okay as she’d always done. You want her to not be angry and disappointed with you. You want to cry on her laps and ask for forgiveness. You want to tell her you deserve it; to rot in this cell in a foreign country or be beaten up to death. You want to tell her she deserves better because she is the better human being. You have a lot to tell her, but this time she wouldn’t listen. This time, she has disowned you. This time, she won’t clean your mess.

Here you are; burning inside and trapped outside.

You have done it again.

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Mental Health

RECOVERY IS BUT A CHOICE

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Photo Courtesy: https://kaylafae.files.wordpress.com

So I went to Port Reitz the other week and visited the mental unit. The place was so quiet and calm, with a neat, green compound. You can imagine my disappointment of not finding a lunatic running around with a doctor following him with a huge needle in his hand. That’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear of Port Reitz right? Well sorry to burst your bubble. Apparently the only time the place is as you picture it is when a maniac or violent patient is coming in for assessment for the first time. So yeah, as much as mental illness is often equated to madness, that’s just NOT the whole picture. Mental illness is depression and anxiety and OCD and all these other things we go through and brush away because well, who wants to admit they are mentally ill?

It is also at Port Reitz that I got to know that by a range of just 150/= to 300/= you could get to see a therapist. But because we’ve stereotyped mental illness and this place so much, we’d rather not even think about going to this place.

By now we already know that therapy is as expensive as it gets. So if only we kept aside our insecurities and decided to seek the desperate help we need, we would have made good use of these very affordable charges. Anyway, getting to my point now, do you realize that for you to get any better you need to get help?

It is rather sad that we would go to see a doctor for the smallest of physical aches yet choose to continuously ignore the pain within our souls. Each one of us is carrying a baggage, a painful story, things they’d rather not talk about because it is easier ignored than faced. But the reality is that, time is not necessarily going to heal you as the theory goes. We are very different human beings and we cope very differently to the challenges we face. For example, you could meet two victims who were involved in the West Gate attack and perhaps underwent the same scenario but you’d find that one was resilient enough after the attack was over. They quit the job they didn’t like, spent more time with family and started pursuing things they are passionate about. The other one however, was probably stuck in that messy moment for an entire month and still having nightmares about it. That’s just how different we are and it is OKAY to feel whichever way you feel.

To ensure that you remain sane and not entirely lose control of your being, here are a few steps to help you cope.

  1. Admit to yourself that you have a challenge that is pulling you down: You have to be honest to yourself without feeling any guilt or shame. You have to accept that this is how you feel right now and there shouldn’t be anyone or anything to make you less of a human being for feeling the way you do. Remember that your illness does not define you. Your strength and courage does…and if you want this nightmare to end, this step is very crucial.
  2. Talk to a confidant: Go talk to a person you trust and who will listen to you without judgements or with less regard as to how you feel. Be open and be yourself. Letting it out is an efficient way to feel better.
  3. Keep a journal: Writing down what you feel is proven to be really helpful for anyone undergoing stress or any other mental illness. You can be angry, emotional, detesting or whichever feeling you’ll be experiencing and you don’t have to worry about what your journal thinks about all that you are talking about. It gives you the chance to be free and yourself. Furthermore, it will be more helpful if you also have a gratitude journal whereby you write down what you are grateful for by the end of the day or maybe weekly.
  4. Pray: While experiencing very stressful situations, praying can be the hardest thing to do. You have so many questions for God and you are almost giving up. You lack the enthusiasm for life and you are just in this dark phase whereby you don’t know what to do. However difficult it is for you, pray. Because if there’s any time where you have to prove your faith in God, this is the period. This is your test and this is the time to trust blindly. Yes, blindly. You may not see the light ahead and you may not understand a thing but pray still. Trust His plan for you. Pray to Him. Cry to Him. Talk to Him. Tell Him about all these things only you and Him know about. Tell Him about your pain, your confusion, your anguish and struggle. He is listening. He is always listening.
  5. Seek help: This is an important step when things get overwhelming for you. Do not worry about what others will think about you or label you. Do not worry about what will happen next or how the therapist will judge you. Close your eyes and take the step. Seeking help doesn’t make you mad or crazy or weak. It makes you brave. It makes you strong and courageous. So go for it. Seek help while you still can. Seek help because you deserve a peaceful mind and a grateful soul. So go for it!

That said, here is good news for my dear ‘strokes of my pen’ family. To make it easier for all of you to seek help, Strokes of my pen and Taaluful Quloob have joined hands to assist you to access therapies at a special price.

Taaluful Quloob is a registered community based organization in Mombasa with a mission to proactively address family issues through a collaborative care, offering comprehensive package embodied with assorted services to help replenish homes. They offer services such as general guidance and counselling, Islamic marital counselling (pre-marital, marital and post marital) and match-making (Interesting huh?!). They also train community counsellors and organize workshops and seminars.

Coming back to the special price, Taaluful Quloob will be charging a small fee of 300/= plus a one-time registration fee of 100/= only, for general counselling for anyone who uses the code: Strokes of my pen. Please take note that this offer is only for the general counselling matters and not for marital counselling.

You can book your appointment via their number: 0708 964 809 or you can email them for further inquiries via: taallufulquloob@gmail.com

It is my hope that you will make use of this great offer and seek help. Please do while you can. Please be kind to your soul and allow it to heal.

P.S The offer is valid until December in shaa Allah.

One of the great therapists I know repeats this like it is the most important statement to live with: Mental Illness is NOT a choice but your RECOVERY is. I believe she is right.

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Mental Health

10 WAYS PARENTS HEIGHTEN DEPRESSION

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One of the saddest things is hearing people say, “I need help but I don’t want my family to know…”It says a lot about the person, the situation and the family; especially the parents. It is a messed up society. The youth are afraid to speak up about their struggles and depression because they are afraid of their parents’ reactions. The situation is such that depression is almost becoming a trend now. And the parents? They remain oblivious of how much their children are struggling. I am not pointing fingers at anyone. As I said, it is a messed up situation. The youth could be unnecessarily worried about speaking up. Perhaps their parents would in fact listen and help them get help. Perhaps they would be supportive. Perhaps you speaking up would be a wake up call for them. How would you know if you never approached them? This generation is so good at hiding so we can’t entirely blame the parents for not miraculously knowing you’re in pain. The family on the other side could be playing a role; sometimes a major role, in the problem itself. Carrying on with the same old traditions and customs, our parents seem blinded on how much they actually play a role in facilitating depression amongst their children. Here are some ways in which parents, unintentionally cause unnecessary pain, struggle and hopelessness.

1. Forcing them to take up courses/careers they aren’t interested in: I was talking to this 18 year old girl who just completed form four. She says she HATES maths, she FAILED maths and she doesn’t want anything to do with it. Oh well guess what, her family still thought that being an accountant is the only way to succeed in this life.I couldn’t understand how anyone could see her misery and still force her do this. It is sad, so sad, that parents have this one track mind. Parents believe they know what is best for their children (which majority of the times is true) but sometimes this is not the reality. If someone despises something that much, what kind of life do you expect your child to have at university? Sleepless nights, over-working themselves, breaking down cause of constant failure…what for?? Is it really worth it?? Even if they indeed work their sweat off and pass their exams, what kind of a career will they have? One whereby they deal with numbers for eight constant hours, seven days a week…do you expect your child to lead a happy life? Will they be any less valuable or worthy if they didn’t become that person you expect them to be or that they didn’t follow your footsteps?? Go ask around the students at university, ask them what they study and majority will tell you they do it because they had no option. Because their parent chose this course for them. Because becoming an artist or a chef or a journalist won’t take you that far. But would it give them a chance to grow? A chance to go after their dreams? A chance to be happy? So long as it is something that can still earn them some money and is decent enough then why not?? WHY NOT?!

2. Imposing their beliefs/opinions on their children: This happens a lot. A child is rarely allowed to have his/her own opinions. So a father would tell his son, ‘A real man marries from his own tribe’ or ‘A real woman should know how to carry firewood on her back’…This and that and that..Opinions are fine but imposing them on someone else is what is wrong. What if your son would love to marry someone from a different far-off culture, does it make him any less a man? What if your daughter knows how to sew clothes instead of carrying firewood, what do we label her? As much as we’d love our children to think in a certain way or to be our copies, it is wrong to force to them think in a certain way. The best a parent can do is advise. If a child follows their own path despite your words, they’ll be the ones to face the consequences of their actions; whether good or bad. Let your children fly. If they bump into a tree and fall down, they’ll come back to you crying and seeking your wisdom. Yet still, don’t cut their wings. You can’t protect them from the word, you can only guide and pray for them.

3. Forcing/Pressurizing them into marriages: ‘I got married at 18, you are 28 and you are still single’ ‘I was a father at your age’ ‘This is the best bride you could get’. I get it, parents get worried about their children; where they are headed to, whom they’ll have a family with, whether they’ll settle down like their mates or not. We get it. It is a scary world and it’s natural for them to be worried or desire to take control of their matters. But the reality is that your son/daughter is the one who will live with that person, that it is them who will handle the responsibilities, that it is them who will live that life. At least give them the chance to choose their paths; what time they decide they are ready to settle and who they want to settle with. Don’t make them any less human for not not being married yet or for not wanting the person you chose for them.

4. Comparing them with other children: This includes comparison amongst siblings. We are all built differently, with different personalities and different emotions within us. We experience the same things differently and different things the same way. We come from different backgrounds and the words we use in our home could be banned in yours. Your child could start speaking at two years and another at four. Your child and your neighbours’ could go to the same school since kindergarten and live in the same environment, yet they’d still perform differently and have different opinions. That is how it is, even for siblings living under the same roof with the same parents. We are different. Parents tend to make this mistake to always compare their children with others. It could be in performance, achievements, beauty, neatness, skills…anything really. Yet this is how they slowly ruin their childrens’ self esteem from a very tender age.

5. Getting children mixed up with adult problems: This is in the case of divorce or separation or just parents having frequent fights amongst themselves. Many times the parents never consider the effects of these fights on their children. Many children from broken families end up having trust issues or being depressed or unable to commit to any relationship. Parents would fight over custody of children, make them choose whom they want to live with, keep repeating to them how their other parent is worthless or is a bad parent, comparing the bad habits of the children to their other parent and so on. Children end up being exposed to unnecessary drama and chaos, traumatizing them psychologically and the effects would be seen way into their adulthood.

6. Rarely showing appreciation: A child could be responsible, obedient, hardworking…but the parent would never take a minute to praise them or show them appreciation or tell them how worthy they are. But once this same child does a mistake, he/she would be lectured, insulted and maybe even not spoken to. There is no balance and as such, the child ends up feeling worthless despite everything else good that they do.

7. Absent parents: These are the worst. Because you can barely tell if these children have parents or not. They are either too busy working, or too busy fighting, or too busy travelling, or too busy with their own business, they rarely have time for their children. They could be providing for them their basic needs but they don’t offer the emotional connection they desperately need. Sometimes they are forced to take up responsibilities, bigger than their age to cover for their parents’ absenteeism. This sometimes leads to the children seeking love or any emotional bond elsewhere to compensate for what they lack.

8. Never involving children in family decisions: It all starts with the small things. If a parent involves his/her child in decision making with regards to the house issues, then the child automatically feels valued. Even if it is by asking them what food to cook today or what colour they think will be best if painted in the room. The child feels that his opinions and thoughts are welcomed, wanted and appreciated. Even if their suggestions won’t be accepted, the children will still feel proud and their confidence will obviously boost. Yet what happens when the opposite happens? A child gets home and is just informed that the next day they are moving to another town. A child gets home and his father has traveled abroad without a word. A child gets home and some of his clothes have been given out. As much as parents have the right to do whatever they want in their homes, it does certainly have an impact on a child with regards to whether or not he was informed/involved or asked his opinion. Unfortunately we tend to think asking for children’s opinions is too Western but children often surprise us with their thoughts. And it is by these small decisions that children get to assume how much their opinions are valued or not.

9. Never supporting their ventures: So your child decided to open a furniture shop instead of the tiles shop you wanted them to. You decide you won’t support them. In fact, why talk to them even? They disobeyed me. But maybe your child believes that this will work out better for them. Maybe they love dealing with furniture and decors. Maybe this is a risk they must take for them to know what they are capable of. Sometimes all a parents needs to do is show support despite the differences in opinions. One can’t say the support doesn’t matter. It definitely does. One becomes more confident when they know they have their family backing them up.

10. Parents who are too proud to accept their mistakes: Indeed we are all human beings with so many flaws. Parents sacrifice and do a lot to ensure their children have good, stable lives. No one can delete or ignore their efforts. However, parents sometimes ignore their own wrongdoings and mistakes despite them having an impact on their children. They wouldn’t accept they are wrong when they publicly embarrass their children for lack of some skills, they wouldn’t accept their mistakes when their children’s teacher complains of their absenteeism to the parents’ meetings. They wouldn’t accept they are wrong when they demoralize their own children or when they send their young children to buy them weed. So first they make the mistake and second, they demand that no one questions the way they raise their children. Having stubborn parents like that, a child may end up having low self esteem, or have the wrong view of life or themselves. The child may end up thinking that accepting mistakes means one is weak, so they follow suit. There are many ways in which this could affect a child.

As much as we love and respect our parents, maybe it is high time we said it out loud that many are the reason their children are undergoing depression or being constantly sad. They also play a role in silencing the screams from within due to the children’s’ fear. Maybe it is high time we are open about these things so that maybe, just maybe, the future generations can have better, understanding parents. Ameen!

P.S. I dare you to try talking to your parents about what’s stressing and eating you up. You never know. You just never know. It could be your gateway to a healthier relationship with them. Plus, they could help you through your dark times, who knows?!

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Creative Non-Fiction

MENTAL ISSUES AND SILLY THINGS PEOPLE WILL SAY TO YOU

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3. Cheer up already!

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

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

6. Stop being a drama king/queen
:

7. Don’t you trust God’s plan?!

8. You just like being sad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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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