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5 TIMES WE FAIL TO RESPECT PEOPLE’S SPACE

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I believe Mombasa is one of the best places to live in Kenya. Maybe I’m biased because this is where I come from and home is home right? That aside, the culture here is so beautiful and profound, it gives you warmth. We are a collectivist society which means we mostly do things as a society rather than individuals. This can be depicted in how we conduct our weddings, our funerals, our charity and all kind of activities. There is a strong sense of brotherhood which brings together many different yet similar people from all walks of life. As much as things are not the same as they were in the past and more people have now adopted the private lifestyle, we still are one in many ways.

Nonetheless, in many of the occasions that we connect and stand with one another, we cross lines. It is never intentional and most times, we never even notice that we are doing it. We go beyond limits and over-step despite our pure intentions to help. So I’ll be the bad cop today and point some habits that sometimes aren’t as pleasant as we may think.

Note: I am VERY sure the things I am about to mention happen in other communities as well. But I don’t belong in those other communities and it wouldn’t be right to speak of what I’m not really sure of.
So, people…here we go:

1. New born babies are extremely exciting. Everyone wants to see them, touch them, smell them and hold them. They are pure joy. As soon as a mother gives birth, we rush to the hospital to see the new bundle of joy. I say it again, we mean well. I mean we are family right? So half an hour after a delivery, the hospital room is full of people and laughter and…a VERY exhausted mother. Having to keep smiling for everyone who walks in, trying to silence the new baby, listening to everyone talk. Have you ever thought how this situation is for a new mother? She has just undergone a very painful experience, probably the most painful in her life. It is a new thing. Her hormones are gushing out, milk flowing over, her entire body system is messed up and is trying to adapt to the changes. This new bundle of joy is new to her too, whether it is her first baby or the fifth, it is still a new adjustment for her because every child will be different. Every five minutes, the child is either crying or a new visitor is walking in. Of course, she can’t let her visitors alone. So she wakes up and listens to the endless, often contradicting advice on children. This will go on for days. She probably can’t even remember the last time she slept soundly. She can’t ask people not to come because yes, she does want her family and friends to be happy with her…but she needs rest too. She needs to breathe. She needs a break to make sense of what is happening and adjust appropriately.

I am not saying we shouldn’t visit new mothers, I’m just saying, a text message is good enough on the first days after delivery especially if you are not immediate family or very close to the individual. I am sure your message will be appreciated. Just make a point to inform them that you will visit them once they settle down a bit. Communicating your intention is important. Then visit them after a month or so, when they’ve had a chance to adjust. It doesn’t make you a bad cousin or friend, it makes you empathetic and human.

2. Visiting sick people is a thing for us. Go to Coast general and see the buibuis and kanzus in large numbers visiting their sick relatives. It is a beautiful trait within us; compassion. Often times we are not sure how to support and help our sick relatives which makes us helpless, so we decide to over-stay by their bed side even when we aren’t exactly needed. Sometimes we travel from other countries and stay at the sick person’s place, with the intention of being there for them. However, most often than not, we cause them further discomfort especially if we are not immediate family or very close relatives. Because now, this sick person and whoever is with them, have to worry about one more person; YOU. What will the visitor eat? Will they be okay sleeping in this room? What if they see X (the patient) vomiting or crying in pain? They now become more cautious in their own house. We mean well yes, but there’s always a limit to how much our presence is needed. Visit the sick, stay with them for some little time, pray for them or with them, support them but once you are not needed, kindly give them the space. Of course this differs according to the state of the patient but you get my point right? (I’m sure someone is saying to themselves, we have the over-staying visitors even when no one is sick too!! Yeah, those too…)

3. Newly-weds: Weddings are such an exciting thing here. We invest in them emotionally, physically and mentally. So much so that once the groom has taken his wife, we still want to be updated on every detail of their life. We tactfully visit them every other day to ‘see how they’re doing’. We want to know whether they have adjusted, whether the wife can cook good food, whether they have a fridge, whether they have consummated their marriage?!

Two people have just started a new life together. It is a very big step. They need time to know each other and to adapt. Someone has been living with their parents for perhaps twenty or more good years of their life and now it is a totally different house, with a different person, a different neighbourhood. Yet here we are, knocking on their door, as soon as they tie the knot.

Of course parents and siblings would want to assist in the adjustment and that is fine but that too has limits. And for the distant relatives and friends, we have to be even more careful not to cross the limits.

4. Asking newly-weds when they will have kids, can be very irritating and sometimes humiliating. You can never know what a couple is going through. You can never know whether the lady cries herself to sleep, wishing and praying so hard to have a child. You can never know how many doctors they’ve seen and how long they’ve been trying. It is okay to ask someone whether they have children but totally not okay to ask them why or when or even worse, joke about it. You just never know the pain they could be enduring. Be sensitive to people. You just never know…
Same applies to asking unmarried people when they are planning to get married. Huh, some youth want to end their lives because of that kind of unnecessary pressure. Also take note; there is the kind of asking where someone is genuinely concerned about you and the kind of asking that is just meant to pressurize you. The latter is what bothers everyone who is asked.

5. Funerals: Grief is a very subjective emotion. The way one will deal with a loss will be totally different with another. This includes siblings and family members. We could have undergone the same tremendous loss but one would lock themselves in the room not eating for days while another wouldn’t shed a tear. It doesn’t make either of the experiences less painful. We are just different like that.

Now when someone dies, we come together and show support to those who have lost a loved one. However, we tend to camp at the deceased’s house, forgetting what kind of discomfort we could be causing. Someone just lost her husband, but here she is, even three days after the burial, her house is filled with people. She can’t have a minute to herself because there are people lying around and chit-chatting everyyywhere. She has to think about what the visitors will eat, who will cook, do we even have groceries? Sometimes it is the immediate family of the deceased who go into the kitchen to cook for the visitors, tears streaming from their faces as they cook the stew. How unfair is that? Making someone who is undergoing great amount of pain, push aside their emotions because there are thirty people in the house with empty stomachs. How unfair is it for the widow who hasn’t had a minute to herself to let it sink in, to breathe, to cry without anyone hovering over her shoulder.

We might think that everyone wants to have a crowd patting them on the back and crying with them but that is not true. Often times we need the support at the first instance of the death through to the end of the funeral. After that we just need to be alone or be with someone really close to us.

We definitely should not disregard that the loss is for several people and not just one person or immediate family. Of course death affects many people and it is okay to grieve too. But sometimes it is better that we grieve at our own space and allow the immediate family to grieve their own way.

***

I love my home and my people. Honestly I do and even more, I love how we are always ready to stand up for each other as a community. Nonetheless there are these instances and several more whereby we need to be wiser on how we deal with situations and people. Let us think of the other parties more. Let us be more empathetic as much as we are compassionate.

P.S This is but my opinion and everyone is entitled to their own. I mean no harm. Thank you.

***

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Creative Non-Fiction

IF ROLES WERE REVERSED

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Have you ever looked at the house help at home and thought, ‘Did he/she ever have a dream to become something in life? Or do they still want to become that thing? What is their story? Do they have a family? If something happened to them, do we know their next of kin? Do we know where they live? Whether they ate yesterday evening? Did they have an education? Or did they start school then dropped out because of finances? If they were given a chance to be whoever they want to be, what would they choose? What do they feel about their current job? About working for you? About spending time with your children?’

What about your garbage collector? Or the man who fixes your sink? Or the lady who babysits your children? Ever thought about their feelings, their goals in life, their thinking? If roles were reversed, would you be satisfied having a boss like you? Would you be happy with the pay you receive? With the workload given to you? With the treatment given? Would you be okay about the leftover or almost rotten food given to you alone while they feast on the table with all kinds of fresh, tasty food? Would you feel discriminated, underestimated, unappreciated?

Most of us never think about that. We never take a minute to just think about these people who work and toil for us. Sometimes we openly mistreat them or insult them or be so harsh with them for humanly mistakes. Sometimes we publicly show them that they are not in the same league/class with us. Sometimes we don’t even treat them like human beings. Sometimes we think, we worked hard to be where we are in life and they didn’t. They didn’t work hard enough, or they were just lazy or unambitious. Sometimes we forget that it is but a blessing to be this comfortable with our lives. Sometimes, or most times, we never think about them entirely?

So let’s take a moment to think about all the manual labourers that work for us or with us or those come across. If roles were reversed, would you want to be treated the way we or you treat them? Would we want to be paid the same amount we pay them (sometimes despite having more than enough for ourselves)? Would we want to be given another type of food while everyone else is eating special meals? Would we want to be ignored like we ignore them until we have a need? Would we want to be shouted upon for every humanly mistake we make?

Do we respect them? Do we honour them? Do we listen to what they have to say? All these people with low-paying jobs, do we ever appreciate them?

Manual labour is considered noble in Islam. Abu Hurairah RA reported: The Prophet (sallallaahu ’alayhi wa sallam) said, “No food is better to man than that which he earns through his manual work. Dawud (alayhi sallam), the Prophet of Allah, ate only out of his earnings from his manual work.” (Bukhari)

We have a perfect example of how the prophet peace be upon him mingled with the slaves and the poor people. Here’s an excerpt from http://www.reviewofreligions.org/2876/the-life-character-of-the-seal-of-the-prophetssaw-part-4/ on the prophet and his slave, Zaid bin Harith.

“Hakim bin Hizam, the nephew of Hadhrat Khadijah(ra), was a merchant who constantly moved about with various trade caravans. Once he purchased a few slaves during a trade expedition and gave one of them as a gift to Hadhrat Khadijah(ra). The name of the slave gifted to Hadhrat Khadijah(ra) was Zaid bin Harithah(ra). In actuality, Zaid(ra) belonged to a free family, but during a plunder he was taken captive and was forcefully enslaved. Khadijah(ra) found Zaid(ra) to be wise and intelligent, so she entrusted him to Muhammad(saw).

It was always the practice of the Holy Prophet(saw) that he would treat his servants and slaves with immense love, like his own kith and kin. Hence, Muhammad(saw) was affectionate to Zaid(ra). Since Zaid(ra) possessed a sincere heart, he also developed love for Muhammad(saw). Meanwhile, Zaid(ra)’s father Harith and paternal uncle Ka‘b came to Makkah whilst looking for him. Both of them presented themselves before the Holy Prophet(saw), and with great humility requested the freedom of Zaid(ra), so that he may return home with them. Muhammad(saw) responded; “Absolutely! If Zaid wishes to leave with you, I delightedly give him permission to do so.” At this, Zaid was called upon and was asked by Muhammad(saw), “Zaid, Do you recognise these people?” “Yes,” responded Zaid(ra), “they are my father and paternal uncle.” Muhammad(saw) said, “They have come to take you. If you wish to leave with them, I gladly give you permission to do so.” “I shall not leave you on any account,” answered Zaid(ra), “To me, you are far dearer than my own uncle or father.” Zaid(ra)’s father reacted with great anger and grief, “What? Do you give preference to a life of slavery over that of freedom?” “Yes,” responded Zaid(ra), “for I have witnessed such virtues in him that I can now give preference to none above him.”

When Muhammad(saw) heard this response he immediately stood up and took Zaid(ra) to the Ka‘bah. There he announced in a loud voice, “O People! Be witness to the fact that as of this day I free Zaid(ra) and make him my son. He shall be my heir and I shall be his.” When Zaid(ra)’s uncle and father observed this sight, they were astounded. They happily left Zaid with Muhammad(saw). Since then, Zaid bin Harithah(ra) became known as Zaid bin Muhammad(ra).1 However, after the Hijrah, God revealed a commandment that it was unlawful to take an adopted child as an actual son.2 Upon this, Zaid(ra) was once again given his original name, Zaid bin Harithah. Nonetheless, the loving conduct of the ever-loyal Muhammad(saw) remained unaltered with this ever-sincere servant…”

Imagine a slave loving their master to the extent they wouldn’t want to go back to their family. How amazingly well do you think the prophet peace be upon him to make Zaid may peace be upon him, cherish him that much.

So here’s food for thought for all of us…if roles were reversed, would you be pleased working under YOU?

***

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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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WHAT TO SEE WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME

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Photo Courtesy: https://pixabay.com

It is 3 days to Eid…My aunt says it is okay to go out to check out stuff in the shops at night. There’s music and loads of people outside. I mean that’s an understatement in Amu. We’ve made our rounds, have sat at the sea front and ate our ice-creams, and now are heading back home. We have passed the ‘main road’ and are walking towards the narrow path that’s going to lead us home and two guys are cat calling behind us. Actually, they have been ever since we met them out side a shop but we just ignored them. One was carrying these metallic curtain poles or whatever…and the other, holding the plastic material that was covering them. I assume they either fell off or seemed too slippery for the other guy to be carrying the poles. We’ve ignored them for a while and the guy carrying the plastics, walks too closely and rubs the plastics against each other making weird sounds at us. I stop, abruptly and turn towards him. ‘Didn’t expect that mufaka, did you?’ (No, I didn’t tell him this…it is what came to mind when I saw the horror on his face) He halts and is clearly stunned.
“Haya sasa niambie…kule likua siezi smama sabu kuna watu wengi. Wataka nini?” I tell him.
He is out of words. The expression on his face, I’d pay a thousand dimes to look at again. He is quiet. The other guy laughs at him. I stand my ground still staring at him and he says “Staki kitu”
” Basi acha kuita watu njiani kama paka wa babako,” and we continue walking and he stops his weird hauls.

That was bitchy? Or that was bravery?

Boys,-and yeah I’m saying boys because no grown, matured man in his right mind would do that kinda nonsense- what is it that you want from girls that whenever they pass around a group of you, you definitely have to talk weird shit about/to them? To whom exactly do you want to prove that you’re a guy and she a girl? With whom exactly are you trying to have a cheap and weird conversation? And most of all, why is it that as a girl I cannot be left alone to walk in silence or without my heart skipping a beat like ‘Oh boy here comes the catcalls’ as I play in mind what to or what not to reply back? I have replied on one occasion when some dude went on like ‘Salamu haitii mimba’ with ‘Hii yako yatia mimba ya upepo…takiani kuzaa mashuzi mimi’ while I walked away.

Onto another scenario. A girl is dressed nicely, or skimpily for that matter. Does that mean they are calling for you to attack them with weird comments about their body features? I mean where on the world’s record was it mentioned that whenever I dress, its a guy I wanna impress? That aside. So you meet a girl, all hijabed up and all, you make a pass at her. She ignores it, clearly indicating that she isn’t at all interested. What gives you the right to insult her? Or even worse insist. Listen boo-boo…I am not interested and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind. I will ignore you and when you can’t seem to shut up, I will slap you with a single comeback which will either make you feel as small as you literally are, or will make you Slap/Hit me. (That’s a case for another day). The same goes for online sexual bullying. The number of times girls have felt insecure and always always self-conscious about what to expect from dudes is alarming. What makes you think that just because I am replying or reacting to your comment mean I want anything personal to do with you? Why can it not be all joking and fun and you just had to bring feelings into this whole thing making it weird?!

This isn’t all. And this is so unfair. I read one time on tumblr, a post where a girl said her sister was doing some research, and she wanted to see if say we are walking towards each other (I mean girl and guy). Who is supposed to let who pass first. The girl concluded with ‘So far, she( the sister) has collided with 20 men.’ I tried to do this once on the road towards Sawa Centre. It is so crowded with people and tuktuks and you’re right…I did have to put up my hands in front so guys don’t bump on me. Don’t worry religious freaks, I know you’re all ready to hit me with ‘This is why Rasoul (S.A.W) forbade women from going to the markets.’ Which is all okay until you realize you don’t have a male in the house and have to go to the ‘market’ by yourself. My point is, why is it that just because I am the girl, I am always the one to be on the sideline? To always be on the look out. When Rasoul talked of hayaa and lowering of gaze, did he at any point restrict it to females only? IDK, educate me.

I have gone to class with boys, I have taken the same exam as them and I might say even topped the exams. I am in a faculty, one that has men in it. Lets say it’s Corporate Business or Media. Why is it that every other aspect of me is stepped on and looked down upon and only my feminine nature pops up and gets your attention? Why is it that I,- a hardworking and so very potential and awesome woman- will be subjected to sexual harassment or asked for sexual favors before I am promoted. Or why is it that I cannot be treated fairly to a male workmate, just because I am a female, and that the equal treatment is made to look to me as a favor someone is pulling for me…and yeah I have to return the favor, sexually? I think its what they call it ‘Sleeping your way to Success’.

Why is it that guys, who are well off in some way or another think they’re the real deal, and that just because of that, they have the audacity to make a woman feel less of a person? Why is it that we are all treating it as normal for a guy to demand or make passes at girls-yeah several-just because they’re male? Why is it that it is always my fault as a girl for being too free to be out there thus calling for weird attention? Why is it that it is the girl who should stop a weird pass made at her, otherwise it will send a message that she wants it and is totally okay with it. Like why is it that its okay for boys to do all that and they get away with the notion ‘Boys will always be Boys?’ and as a girl have to justify myself. Why is it that y’all people don’t address this and make it clear that females are humans and for once don’t look at what she’s wearing and instead look at what she’s bringing to the goddamn table because ‘damn! half her beauty is her brains’? And most of all, why is it that y’all think being made weird passes at or getting uncalled for sexual advances is the rent a girl has to pay to exist on earth as a female?

Jus’ Birkoff…No Seriously, Back Off.

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DIRECTOR OF OPERATIONS

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Featured photo courtesy: http://im3.peldata.com/

Make sure to watch the video and meet the director of operations before reading the note below…

This video really moved mountains in me. It didn’t really have anything new that hasn’t been said, but it carries so much weight and I just felt my heart melt at it. How many times do we really really underestimate the work and sacrifices done by the director of operations? How many times have we acted like it is her duty to do what she does yet it is simply her lovely heart that makes her be a super woman just for our sake?

Let’s appreciate HER EVERYDAY, EVERY YEAR, EVERY MOMENT and not just on one particular day. Not just on her birthday, or mother’s day or during festive season. She deserves much much more than one day appreciation right?!

If you still have this lovely woman in your life then give her a call and tell her how much you love her. If she is next to you then give her a big hug. If she is gone then make a prayer for her. She deserves worth more than a post in social media that she will never see. She deserves worth more than the selfie you took with her just to show the world. She deserves your honest love, care and respect. Remember, so many people wish they could have their mothers with them right this moment so make use of this golden opportunity that you have.

#This is indeed the world’s toughest job!! #May God bless all the women who hold the title ‘mother’
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