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HE IS AR-RAHEEM, AL-WADOOD

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Have you ever met someone and immediately felt, deep in your heart, that they were a beloved of Allah? No, it was not someone who was born Muslim, raised in the rhythm of ‘ibadah, fasting by day and praying qiyaam by night. Rather, it was a new revert who had reached rock bottom, swimming in the depths of depression, alone and broken.

Just before her reversion she had been engulfed in grief after losing two of her closest friends and her father back to back. The losses came so quickly that the weight of them crushed her spirit, and in an attempt to escape the darkness within her she had turned to the bottle heavily. It was such a painful phase in her life that she would often wear dark shades simply to hide her swollen eyes from all the crying she had been doing. The world around her kept moving, but inside she felt completely lost.

Then one night, as she lay in her bed doing nothing, a thought came to her mind. Why don’t I become Muslim? Doesn’t Islam mean peace? And simply for this reason she decided to embrace Islam.

Yet even after becoming Muslim the peace did not come immediately. A series of misfortunes followed, but the first one that shook her to the core was a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. The two Muslim women who had initially held her hand during the beginning of her journey slowly withdrew their support because she was not married, even though she was a new Muslim, even though she had to undergo surgery, even though she was literally on the verge of losing her life, and even though she had no one else beside her.

She struggled with fasting, was mocked for her nail business even though she only did it reluctantly for income, received side-eyes for her attempt at modest dressing of a scarf and baggy jeans, and was explicitly told she wasn’t truly Muslim by someone she had prayed with. Even during the aftermath of her ruptured ectopic pregnancy, she faced the fear, the pain, and the uncertainty almost entirely alone.

Yet through all of this, Allah’s gentleness was visible in ways that were almost impossible to ignore. Literal miracles unfolded before our eyes as Allah straightened her affairs, comforted her, and rescued her through one hardship after another.

But even before the provisions began appearing in her life, Allah had already given her something far greater. Slowly, quietly, He began to mend the heart that had been shattered by grief. The same girl who had once hidden her swollen eyes behind dark glasses began to find moments of calm in her prayers and relief in speaking to Allah. It was As-Salaam, the Source of Peace, who gently healed her from the inside, restoring her heart and granting her resilience. The peace she had hoped for when she first thought about Islam did not come all at once, but Allah granted her something just as powerful along the way: strength to rise again after every hardship, and the courage to keep turning back to Him even when life felt overwhelming.

When she eventually moved into a new home, she named it House of Salaam. She once told me that it was in this home that she began to feel truly supported and steadied after the darkness she had endured. The sense of calm and inner strength she found there marked a turning point in her journey.

And soon after that, the help around her life began to unfold in ways that were almost unbelievable.

Even when she decided to return to school despite having absolutely nothing, Allah brought forth a stranger who paid ninety six thousand for her school fees in one go. Subhanallah. Later, when she needed a laptop for her studies, the stranger literally asked her to choose whichever one she wanted. When she chose a lesser one, the stranger encouraged her to take a better one and paid for it fully. Then someone else bought her a desk. Another got her the spectacles she needed for reading. Someone covered her rent for two months. Another surprised her with a new phone. And the help just kept coming. Allahumma bareek.

Tell me if that isn’t Allah. Tell me if that isn’t Al Wahhab, the Infinitely Giving, the Giver of Gifts, who brings forth just the right people, the right circumstances to give you just the right kind of help at the right time.

She would often share stories of crying to Allah like a child, pouring her heart out in the quiet moments of the night, and then watching Allah do what seemed impossible for her. Even when her steps in Islam were still slow, even when she felt she had not yet reached where she wanted to be, the mercy of Allah would appear in the most unexpected ways around her. It was as though Allah was gently reminding her that every sincere step towards Him, no matter how small, was seen and appreciated.

This always reminds me of a post I have read many, many times, yet it still strikes me with awe every time I come across it. It says, “I was reading Suratul An‘am and came across a verse that translates to ‘Your Lord has made mercy obligatory upon Himself.’ I put my Qur’an down and took a deep breath. A higher Being who has made it compulsory upon Himself to be merciful to me?”

Subhanallah. There is a narration that captures this mercy most vividly.

‘Umar b. Khattab reported that there were brought some prisoners to Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) amongst whom there was also a woman, who was searching (for someone) and when she found a child amongst the prisoners, she took hold of it, pressed it against her chest and provided it suck. Thereupon Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said:

Do you think this woman would ever afford to throw her child in the Fire? We said: By Allah, so far as it lies in her power, she would never throw the child in Fire. Thereupon Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said: Allah is more kind to His servants than this woman is to her child.”

Subhanallah! How profound it is that the King of Kings can be gracious, loving and forbearing towards us, the weakest of creatures, often faulty and often deficient in our worship. The more you grow in faith, the more you realise that no one can love you or show mercy to you more than Allah.

When this Ramadhan began the sister texted me and told me that she had looked back at the du‘as she made during the previous Ramadhan. One by one she realised that almost all of them had been answered except for one. Even the things that once seemed impossible had come to her through unexpected means.

Later she texted me again sounding excited. I assumed perhaps the final du‘a had finally been answered, but instead she said that she was simply practising for the moment when it would come true. Her certainty in Allah’s promise was so calm and sincere that it filled my own heart with hope.

Subhanallah, this girl has been through depths of darkness that most people would struggle to survive. I have witnessed many of those moments myself, and again and again I find myself in awe of how Allah tests her because He tests those He loves, yet at the same time He opens doors for her in ways that no human being could have arranged.

And perhaps that is why, the very first time I met her, something in my heart quietly felt that she was a beloved of Allah.

Her journey has been such a humbling reminder never to disregard another Muslim based on what they do or do not do, because wallahy it is only Allah who knows what the souls conceal. This reminder is especially important when it comes to reverts. Many of us grew up knowing what is permissible and what is not, and perhaps that familiarity makes certain aspects of faith easier for us. But someone who has come to Islam later in life is often rebuilding their entire world from the ground up, and the least we can do is stand beside them with compassion, grace and support rather than judgment. Let’s not forget that the Prophet ﷺ and his sahabas were not bombarded with rulings of permissibility and prohibitions at one go. Rather, by Allah’s infinite mercy and wisdom, He gradually sent down guidance on what is right and wrong. As such, we should expect gradual learning and growth by reverts too.

And perhaps stories like hers are meant to remind us of something we often forget, that Allah’s mercy is not reserved for the perfect, but for the sincere. For those who stumble yet continue walking towards Him, even when their steps are slow.

Perhaps this is also a reminder for those of us who feel overwhelmed this Ramadhan. For those who feel they have not done enough, those who feel exhausted yet unfulfilled, and those who feel a quiet sadness as the blessed days begin to slip away. We should remember that He is Ar Rahman and Ar Raheem, the Most Gracious and the Most Merciful, and that we will never be deprived of reward while we have a Lord who has made mercy obligatory upon Himself.

All that is required of us is sincerity, intention, and effort, even if our steps are slow.

May Allah grant this sister stability in her life, firmness upon His guidance, and a heart that continues to find peace in Him. May He make her path easier, protect her from the trials that overwhelm the soul, and grant her strength, resilience, and steadfastness in her faith. May He accept her du‘as and worship.

And Ya Allah, in these last blessed days of Ramadhan and in the nights of Laylatul Qadr, grant us and all those striving sincerity in our hearts, barakah in our efforts, and the ability to benefit fully from every moment. Make us among those whose deeds are accepted, whose hearts are softened by Your mercy, and whose lives are illuminated by Your guidance. May we emerge from this Ramadhan renewed, forgiven, and closer to You, and may Your mercy encompass all who seek You sincerely, ameen!

***

Today’s episode of Imam Omar Suleiman’s Ramadhan series touched on Al Wahhab and His other names of ‘Giving’ that resonate with this write-up. I just had to come back here and share it, for it is such a beautiful, wholesome episode. Don’t miss out! https://youtu.be/lYKgYOZ0Uqo?si=oNzTSrAx2uFk8LQo

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2025 Exclusive Ramadhan Musings

The Relief is Coming

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We’ve all had that one dua, or several, that brought us down to our knees—a desperate plea, a heart-wrenching request, something that brings tears to our eyes the moment it’s mentioned. “Please pray for us to have a child.”

“I am miserable at my workplace. I need a new job.”

“I’m so stressed from all my debts…”

“I wish I could get married too.”

“Please remember my sick daughter in your duas…”

“I keep praying for my spouse to change…”It goes on and on.

We’ve all experienced that sense of helplessness and heartache, longing for our prayers to be answered. It may have been days, months, or even years of waiting, praying, begging, and pleading, telling anyone willing to listen to please pray for us. In the midst of all this heaviness and desperation comes the ultimate submission to Allah. We realize that this world, with all its riches, is insignificant and powerless, except when Allah wills it.

During these trying times, Shaitan is particularly active, looking for any opportunity to instil hopelessness in us, to make us believe that Allah can’t hear us or won’t respond. He wants to make us abandon acts of worship, making us think, “What’s the point if Allah won’t answer my pleas?”

Imagine a child eagerly wanting to swim in the deeper side of the pool. They see their friends confidently swimming in that part, having fun and enjoying themselves, and they desperately want to join them. But as the parent, you know that they’re not quite ready for the deeper end. If they jump in too soon, they might struggle, get overwhelmed, or even hurt themselves. So, you guide them to the shallow end, where they can gradually learn, gain confidence, and build strength. You might give them a floater or a swimsuit to help them feel safe and secure.From the child’s perspective, though, they don’t understand why they can’t jump into the deeper end right away. They see their friends thriving there, and they cry or beg to join, feeling left out. But as a parent, you know they need more time, more practice, and more preparation before they’re ready to swim safely in deeper waters.

In the same way, when we make duas and pray for things — a job, a marriage, a child, a change, an opportunity — we often see others who seem to have what we desire, and we feel frustrated or impatient. But Allah, in His wisdom, knows we might not yet be equipped to handle the blessings we ask for. Like the child, we may long for what we see others enjoying, but the “not yet” answer isn’t a rejection; it’s a form of preparation. Just as a child needs time in the shallow end to build their skills and confidence, we, too, need time to grow, learn, and become ready for the deeper blessings ahead. The deeper end will come when we are truly ready to thrive there.

No matter how difficult a situation may seem and how long it may take, find comfort in this: Abu Razin reported that the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings be upon him) said, “Allah laughs at the despair of His servant, for He will soon relieve him.” I once asked, “O Messenger of Allah, does the Lord laugh?” The Prophet replied, “Yes.” I then said, “We will never be deprived of goodness by a Lord who laughs!” (Source: Sunan Ibn Mājah 181)

Beloved reader, Allah knows. Allah knows. Allah knows. Do not let Shaitan lead you to despair. Remember how many times we have witnessed women, past their menopause, give birth after years of waiting? How often have we seen Allah reunite loved ones after decades of separation? Take, for example, the families in Palestine, often separated for years but eventually reuniting. And how many people have married after it seemed hopeless? (Just recently, I read about a 63-year-old woman who got married for the first time.) Consider how Allah has sent strangers to those in distress and debt, who unexpectedly paid everything off, providing them with a fresh start. Isn’t the Qalby Etmaan program just one illustration of many ways Allah brings relief to countless individuals? Subhanallah!

I know it may not seem like it right now. Your desires might feel too far-fetched, unattainable, or impossible. But remember who your Lord is. He is the Lord of Musa (alayhi ssalam), who parted the sea; the Lord of Ayub, who healed him after years of suffering; the Lord of Ibrahim (alayhi ssalam), who was unharmed by the fire; the Lord of Maryam, who was granted a miraculous pregnancy; and the Lord of Umar ibn Khattab, who transformed from being the greatest enemy of Islam to one of its staunchest supporters. Indeed, nothing is impossible.Hang in there.

This Ramadan, do not stop making your dua(s). Instead, elevate them with more passion, conviction, hope, and faith in Allah.It was narrated from Abu Sa’eed al-Khudri (may Allaah be pleased with him) that the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “There is no Muslim who calls upon Allaah with words in which there is no sin or severing of family ties but Allaah will give him one of three things: either He will answer his prayer soon, or He will store it up for him in the Hereafter, or He will remove something bad from him that is equivalent to what he is asking for.” They said, “Then we should make a great amount of du’aa’.” He said, “Allaah is greater.”Narrated by al-Tirmidhi, 3573; classed as saheeh by al-Tirmidhi and others.

In another hadith, It was narrated from Abu Hurayrah that the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “(The du’aa’) of any one of you will be answered so long as he is not hasty in seeking a response and does not say, ‘I prayed but I have not had a response.’” Narrated by al-Bukhaari, 5981; Muslim, 2735

Search for that long-awaited response, dear reader. Although the relief you seek may not have arrived just yet, it is steadily approaching, like the first light of dawn breaking through a dark night. Hold onto hope, for it is on its way to you. It is coming, and with it, peace and resolution will follow. It is coming. The relief is coming.

P.S: It’s the first Friday of Ramadhan alhamdulilah. Seek the hour of acceptance of dua (sa3t Al istijabah) and pour your heart to Allah. May all that you utter in sincerity be granted to you with abundance, ameen. Allah’s Messenger (ﷺp.b.u.h) talked about Friday and said, “There is an hour (opportune time) on Friday and if a Muslim gets it while praying and asks something from Allah, then Allah will definitely meet his demand.” And he (the Prophet) pointed out the shortness of that time with his hands. (Sahih al-Bukhari 935)Please remember me and my family in your duas 🙂

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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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Guest Posts

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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Coast & Culture

TO MY POLITICAL FANATIC NEIGHBOUR

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Photo Courtesy: MTY Organization

Hey Amedo,

Assalam aleikum,

I would have said Ahmed but then who recognizes you with that name anymore? Haha, you are all grown Mashallah. I hope that’s how it is spelt? The Mashallah I mean and the assalam aleikum up there…haha what do I know anyway? I’m just this old pal from upcountry living in Mombasa. I remember hearing your parents use such phrases so many times…ah, your parents. I miss them, you know that? I wish they could see how grown and smart you are right now. Your parents and I, we had this special kind of relationship. I bet you wouldn’t remember much though. You were just eight when that unfortunate accident happened right? *Sigh*

When I first came to Mombasa twenty years ago, I remember how warmly I was received by your parents into this neighbourhood. I still remember your dad, tall and lean, with such a loud laughter, welcoming me like I was a long-lost brother. Your mother, on the other hand, prepared dinner for both me and my wife that night. “I bet you are tired,” she said in her shy voice. I was a bit puzzled with the reception. We were different people, different tribes, different cultures, different religions…what could have made them so comfortable to bond with us immediately? My wife was a bit suspicious at first. You know, we had heard of rumours about the Mombasa genies and how witchcraft is so common and human sacrifices are made to become ‘viti’. Well, we never even understood what those viti were. As far as we knew it, viti are chairs. Nonetheless, my wife, she was a bit worried at first. But then by the next three to four months, we had interacted with almost the entire neighbourhood. We came to learn that this is just how Mombasa is. Warm and lovely; feels like home. It is why we decided to remain here longer. We decided, this is the best place to raise our children.

After your parents passed away in the accident, your divorced aunt moved in to take care of you and your younger siblings. Your aunt was another very lovely lady. She is charming and full of life; the kind to hear her voice sweeping the compound as she sang famous taarab songs. She is the one who taught my wife how to cook biriani and pilau and all these tasty coasterian foods. I never get enough of these foods.

It was all going well for us until Timmy died. You remember Timmy don’t you? Sometimes I see you walk by my home and I yearn to talk to you, ask you if you remember him, if you remember how you two used to play football together, or how you used to stay up late playing PS until your dad would come force you out of our homestead. If you remember that your birthdays were only two weeks apart and that today, he would be 22 years old like you are. Perhaps that would lessen how much I miss him. But then every time I want to start up a conversation, I see the lines form on your forehead. I see how quick you respond just so as you can leave, how bothered you seem by just calling out your name. I never understand it. Maybe it’s my age; old folk what does he want? Or maybe my skin colour or maybe you just don’t recognize me anymore. Maybe…the maybe’s are endless.

Timmy…my only son, my lovely boy, died ten years ago. Both of you were just twelve years old. My son, he was killed. Do you remember? Do you remember the shrieks of pain? The screams? The tear gas, the fear, the stones, the chaos? Do you remember the 2007 post-election violence? You were young but you couldn’t forget how Timmy died right? Your best friend, your brother from another mother, could you? There was too much smoke, wails, angry protests and there we were, caught up right at the middle of it all. Our neighbourhood had always been peaceful, serene…what was happening now? How could everyone forget our brotherhood so fast? We were among the few “outcasts” in the compound. After more than ten years in Mombasa, we suddenly became “outcasts” because our skin colour was darker, our mother-tongue accent betrayed us and our features were clearly “not of here” and that was enough reason to have knives stabbed into our bodies. Because of my origin, my vote automatically meant someone and some party, and at that point, my tribe betrayed me, betrayed us all. We were robbed and deeply injured that night…but one more thing, we lost our son.

It took me three months to heal my wounds and my wife’s’ but we still have one wound that will always remain a wound; unhealed and it just has one word, Timmy. Your aunt has been there for us, all this time, for better for worse, just like we stood by her side whenever she couldn’t afford some bread to feed you all. But you worry me. You my son, worry me.

I see how opinionated you’ve become. How strong and firm you are. It is good. But yet it could be dangerous. I see you sit with your mates barazani, I see the fury in your eyes, the anger in your tone. I see you young men discuss politics like this is a battle field and you want to win at whatever cost. I see you argue, I see the clenched fists and the tribalistic insults. I see how your friends look at me, how they purposely shout out “Kila mtu arudi kwao” when I pass by. I see how you all are invested so much in politics you forget you are supposed to be friends. I see how some of you have stopped talking to each other because “he is pro-someone” and you are “anti-them”. I see how much belief and trust you have kept towards these politicians.

I know it is your right to have an opinion, to vote and to be politically affiliated. Yet I want to remind you my son, when your parents died, I was the one who came to your home and took you for the next few nights, I want to remind you that Timmy was your friend despite me and your parents having different cultures and political opinions. I want to remind you that when we were stabbed, it was your aunt who washed off the blood in our house. That she was the one who nursed our wounds like she was paid for it.

I want to remind you, that during those ugly, dark moments it wasn’t my favourite politician who stood by me, by us. It wasn’t my tribe, or my mother-tongue accent that helped me through those difficult times. It wasn’t your favourite politician either. It was you and your people. It was my neighbours, my friends, my associations who have totally different opinions from mine. But we knew that friendship or any other form of relationship should never be sold for the sake of dirty politics. This game is too dirty. My son, I see how you and your friends are too aggressive in this whole politics business, remember, the game is too dirty, too cheap for your hands.

I am so proud of who you are, what you’ve become; an educated focused man who wants change. I guess we all need the change, don’t we? Just never forget that no change comes from animosity, rivalry, hatred or stubbornness. Remember that for better for worse, none of the politicians will be at your doorstep to help you with your personal problems other than your personal friends and relations. I need you to never forget the humanity joining us; these small joyful moments we have shared between us all; as neighbours, as brothers, as co-existing human beings, as people of the Coast, whether by nature or nurture, as people of Kenya. Never forget that we are naturally bonded as humans before politics ever divide us.

This coming election, my son, remember my words. Remember that chaos will never beget change. That your voice in the call of peace is important and necessary. Remember to hold your friends close together, in unity and preach to them peace like you preach politics and politicians. Remember my son, no more bloodshed, no more Timmy’s, no more crying over spilled milk. Let’s all hold hands and pray for peace and unity. Remember we are One Kenya, One people. This elections, as you cast your vote (or not), remember peace, peace, peace!! May God protect us all. God bless Kenya!

Your next door neighbour,
Baba Timmy.

 

Photo Courtesy: https://youth4developmentkenya.files.wordpress.com

What is more interesting than standing together for Kenya that is united by all means? What is more interesting than a walk that preaches for peace and propagates for unity of all? The Dumisha Amani Peace Walk is a walk organized by MTY organization in conjunction to both MUHURI and Manyunyu community. It will bring together more than 200 youth to propagate the message of peace and unity. The peace walk shall start at treasury square and it will also entail performances by artists, holding hands pledges, peace mascots, security, media coverage and lots of fun, love and unity. Not signed up yet, text 0705 586 076. CHAGUA AMANI!!

 

 

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13 TINY TALES ON RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS

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Because kindness is our only sword to save humanity, here are 13 tiny tales on random acts of kindness…

1. “One evening I was home and was going through my contacts. I saw the name of a woman who used to come at our place for help I just asked myself “You can help this woman by sending a small amount maybe she needs it now.” I did send her some money and I called her to say hi and tell her that I sent something for her. Imagine I couldn’t believe that amount could mean so much to her. She told me her baby was sick and they had nothing to eat at home. That night I cried so much coz of happiness.And I was crying that day coz i got the chance to make someone happy??????❤ it means the world to see someone happy and crying because of you…”

2. “This one day it was ramadhan… 3 kids came asking for food but there wasn’t anything…so mama wanted to give them food but only a small amount had remained and wouldn’t be enough for all three. Plus he had kept the food aside for my young nephew. My nephew was there so he told mum “I’ll eat with them but right now I am not even hungry. When they come again just give them the food I will fast.”

3. “Back in my madrasa days, there was this ustadh of ours who used to walk from likoni to kibokoni to teach us. He wasn’t well off compared to other teachers but he was the most sweet and helpful of them all. He used to care for us, motivate us,teach us about good morals. So I used to put my break time money in his pocket without him knowing.I did it for weeks I guess unfortunately he caught me one day and asked me, “why you doing this?” I just said “you need it more than I do ustadh.” He just told me you don’t have to do that. You need to eat so that you can grow. He is one of my heroes…

4. “When I was young I had a homeless kid as my best friend. I used to share food with him, play with him, i used to take him home and shower. We didn’t have much back then but I used to share my plate with him. Whenever I go to school I used to take anjera to him under the masjid stairs where he used to live. I used to cry every evening when my mum calls me back home because I loved him and I felt helpless at that time. He was my friend and I couldn’t do anything for him. One day he just got lost.It broke my heart.I mean I don’t know where he went. He wasn’t there under the masjid stairs… We used to dream together. When I came from Madrasa he used to wait for me downstairs then we’d go to the beach just to swim and chill and talk. He wanted to be a pilot and i wanted to own the plane.”

5. “There is that time a classmate was stressing over school fees. He missed out on bursary that term and if he didn’t come up with 10k he couldn’t do the exams. I had 1k in my pocket. You know what I did? That evening when everyone was going home I stood in front them at the gate and pleaded for their help. I was so nervous but everyone was helpful. We managed to come up with 10k. It was amazing.”

6. “I had a close friend; a bit younger than me, but I liked her and considered her like my baby sister… we’d talk quite often. Then came a time we just drifted apart and I couldn’t get to her. She had changed her number I guess. So many moths later, I came to understand of the reason why she’d cut me off (which was actually something beyond both of us). I really cried that day because it was not worth it. I was hurt but then I decided I won’t let my ego take charge. I was going to do something for her which in turn would give me peace in both my heart and soul. I tracked down her new number and sent her an anonymous gift via another friend and we made sure it could never link back to me. Alongside the gift, I wrote a few tiny notes, just motivational ones on life and all for her. Another friend of mine told me of how she had met her on that same day she received the gift and how much she had really cried and said, “she needed to hear those words”. A few days after I sent the gift, she contacted me. I was worried she had found out that I was the one who had sent the gift but that was not the case. She said she had dreamt of me and that I’ve been in her mind lately. So we talked a bit. She contacted me a few days later and we had a longer conversation. She wanted us to be friends like before…and that’s when I mentioned that the gift was from me…I swear her reaction was priceless” (Below is the second party’s version)

7. “It is normal to feel down, lost, unwanted and rejected…well that’s what I was feeling for couple of days until this day when I got a call from some place that I had a parcel.I couldn’t make it that moment so it was a later thing .I went to pick it up.It was a gift from someone I didn’t know who that time, a pair of shoes and pieces of notes that meant world to me. I couldn’t help it, curiosity was at maximum, I read the notes and opened the gift inside the matatu. I cried all the way, I was touched.I was so much thankful, in one way or the other I didn’t expect it from the actual sender,because of some broken issues but there, Alhamdulilah I was really consoled.”

8. “So I was going to Eastleigh with some friends of mine. When we got into the mat, we noticed, every time young school children would come into the mat, they would walk straight to a post to stand and hold on tight. And we started asking each other why they were just standing around the matatu..so I called one of them over and asked why he was standing, and he said he has no fare. And I was shocked. The Eastleigh conductors let kids get on the matatus to get home free of charge, provided they stand though. Although this was nice of them, they didn’t really sit well considering how rough these “manyangas” get driven. Standing in one as an adult is a struggle in itself. So I told all the kids to sit and I would pay for them.When they were getting off, one of them said thank you to me and I honestly felt so nice…”

9. “So two years ago, I lost my scholarship. You can imagine, it was a stressful and depressing moment of my life. It was not just about losing my scholarship but also failing in my studies. It brought a lot of doubts in my head. I could not tell people at home and I seriously had no idea what to do. During those trying moments, four of the many friends I have were really there for me. They put up with my awful moods, my attitude… they encouraged me and help stand up again. I was financially disable and because I did not had the courage to tell people at home what was happening, they took it upon themselves to make sure I have my basic needs, got pocket money and I was having fun. At the same time, one of them held a harambee for my fees for that semester, $750 anonymously. And when I last got the courage to talk to my family about it, they were there and made sure I was okay. If it were not for them, I would have killed myself or worse, stop pursuing my dreams. But they believed in me, and found ways to make me believe in me. I can’t repay them for that and what they continue to do for me to date; but Allah is the Just…am sure He will pay them Justly, thus I pray for that.”

10. “My mother has always been my biggest inspiration to kindness (and maybe this is why parents should really take note on what their children pick from them)…She has done a lot (may Allah reward her with jannah) but one story still touches my heart deeply. A long time ago, we had a male house help. My mother helped him revert to Islam and taught him about Islam. So after some years working with us, his sister dies, leaving two orphans; young boys. So everyday, the house help would come home with them because they didn’t have someone to take care of them except their old grandma. My mum enrolled them into madrasa and after classes he would sit and teach them or let them play around. A time came, the house help left without notice or goodbye. Maybe for greener pastures. But so, the two boys were used to coming home so they’d still come. My mum never told them not to come again since their uncle had done a mistake. She went on to teach them and taking them to madrasa and in the evening they’d go to their grandma. Years later, the house help came back and apologized. He said, “Everywhere I go, I realize there is no human like you. I kept talking about how good you are to all my bosses until they wanted to know who you are. I can never forget how you took care of my nephews despite me leaving without any communication. And if there is any person I can predict paradise for them then it’s you…” To date, the house help still comes back home. He goes to work in other places but he always found his way back home. Oh yeah, and he still has the mashaf (qur’an) mum gave him when he first converted. And he repeats this too many times, “Mum, I can never forget your kindness…”

11. “One day, just after sunset, a boy went out to buy some groceries for his mum. That day’s order though could only be found at the grocery stores near the boarding stage, a fairly distant place. It was on a weekend so most of the grocery shops were closed and the ones that weren’t, we’re out of stock.
“Great. Just great” he thought to himself

After a fruitless search, he was left with a final try that he’d give up after. It was a sizable grocer that stood on the edge of the road a few minutes in from the stage. It was next to a charcoal supply shop characterized by the mixture of finely and pebble sized charcoal spread over that whole section of the road. The grocery’s light illuminated it’s front side just enough to see the set of rigid bricks meant to be the stairs.

As he got closer to the shop, he saw a white figure amidst the sea of ground charcoal. It was curled up into a small shape. People were barely missing their footing on it. A Boda Boda then rode passed it almost running it over. It was a kitten. He walked for the shop and threw his eyes at it once more. It was scared, eyes wide open with fear, frozen, as he watched it exist motionless among the numerous feet and exclamations of passersby and the horns of speedy motorbikes
He walked to the shop. A relief for they had the last batch of his order. He bought in smiles. He also bought a batch of Omena. He took his change and walked back to the kitten. He opened a bag and poured almost all of it just at the edge of the road, called the kitten in that common tongue noise and watched as the life flow back into it, as the fear in its eyes being replaced with wonder, slowly it moved towards the pile of raw fish and pounced at it with gratifying hunger.
He smiled thinking what the kitten must have been thinking at that moment. He fed every cat he saw on his way back that night and left just enough of the batch for those cats that always find their way to their compound. They ate gracefully as well..”

12. “There was this one time I was going to Nairobi just for a day to get some of my things at a friend’s house. But it turned out that he was in Mombasa so I couldn’t stay at his place (he was living at his aunt’s in Nairobi). So he told his other friend (who is also my friend) to receive me. So he calls me and says he’d be my host. I arrive in Nairobi at some minutes past 5 in the morning. It’s cold. And he comes with a taxi. We greet each other and ask how we’ve been (it was a while since I last saw him). Anyway, he’s like “you know, I won’t take you to my room. Let’s go to a hotel.” I was like “okay!?” and the taxi drops us off at Eastleigh where we start walking around looking for a hotel. It was still dark and we are alone so I was slightly apprehensive.

All of the hotels were fully booked, I was kinda bummed out coz I was becoming tired and dragging that luggage was becoming a pain. But we finally found a room, it was just from being checked out and we had to wait for 20 minutes for it to be cleaned out for us. But it was kinda expensive (for a student). My friend had to pay 5k for one night. So I was kinda worried and said “dude are you sure? If it’s gonna inconvenience you it’s okay we can just stay at your messy room” And he said, “I’m doing this for the sake of Allah. I believe that if I spend it on others in a good way, He’ll give me more in return” Naturally I was touched by this, so I agreed and made a silent prayer for him that he succeeds in this life and the next. We spent the day roaming around town while he treated me to lunch. It was a really good day, and I promised myself that I would never forget his kindness and that I would repay him somehow in the future. The hotel is called regent hotel or something. It was really really nice. The room had dstv and all that. Plus it was big; Double bed room. Weh I felt like a prince. I keep remembering him. Still haven’t come round to making it up to him. But I pray for him well.”

13. “There was a time at my workplace, an old man came by to have his phone checked for repair. So I usually work upstairs and it was only by chance I came down and saw him standing; confused. He was really old, frail and weak. So I asked him what he needed and he said he wanted his phone repaired soonest, that he needed it immediately if possible because he was sick and some relatives kept sending him some money to help him around. I took the phone and handed it to the one in charge, who agreed to check it out immediately. After the phone was repaired, I took it to the old man who was really relieved. I then gave him 1k and told him, “I hope this helps you…” The man was really really grateful. He said lots of prayers for me then left and I thought that was the end of the story.

The next day, he came to the office again, but since I was upstairs and didn’t know my name, he couldn’t find me. He tried asking about me but my workmates didn’t understand whom he was talking about. The following day he came once again and my workmate decided to ask me if I knew the old man. Going downstairs, it was him. He said he came to thank me once again. That from the money I gave him he got to book a ticket to Kisumu, back to his family. He asked for my number and promised to send me omena and unga from there. He then said, “Because of what you’ve done i’ll become a Muslim.”I just thought it was a by the way but when he got there he did call me to say he arrived safely. After a few days he called again just to greet me. Then on another day, his son was the one who called to say that his father was in hospital and had requested to talk to me. We talked and his voice seemed so frail and weak.

A few days later, fajr time I received a call from his son; the old man had passed away. But he had left a message for me. That he wants to be buried in a plain white cloth without the coffin (sanda). I asked his son, “Had he converted to Islam?” He said, “There was a time he requested that we bring a sheikh to him, so there is that probability.” I decided to ask the son to go to the nearest mosque and let me talk to the imam, of which I did and we had arrangements that he is buried in Islam. Even after his death, his family members called, thanked me and still wanted to send me the omena and unga as promised by the old man but I didn’t see the need so I rejected politely. Nonetheless, I really hope that the man did indeed die a Muslim…”

Dear You…If you can’t find any good in this world, then be the one to do it. It doesn’t have to be ‘Mahatma Gandhi’ or ‘Maria Theresa’ big, it just has to be sincere. Do good to people. Try everyday. Make it a habit. A routine. Be kind. Be kind again and again. Making a difference in just one life is invaluable so never underestimate the effect of your actions and words.

Great appreciation to those who sent in their tales. God bless you…

You are welcome to comment any other stories of kindness below here 😉

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