Pages

Sunday 29 March 2015

Snippet of my novel...

Perfect time to give some dawah I thought. Should I, should I not? I fought back my whispers and my fears and scurried along to the table where the woman dressed in grey several other women were sitting.

I swallowed. Trickles of sweat had already gathered on my forehead and my heart was beating faster.

Talk about zero confidence.

“Err…Hi there, ladies.” I said unconfidently and pulled our a chair to join the gathering.

“I’m Inayah and…err.. it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” I stuttered with a huge fake grin on my face. Really, I was dying inside.

“Oh rite...” Muttered the woman with the grey, worn out top. “So, whens ma food comin?” I decided to ignore her rudeness as it would only decrease my confidence and continued an attempt to spark a discussion in order to decrease the awkwardness.

“I find it truly disturbing that you have been neglected so much by your community. I mean, how come you haven’t been provided for?” I spoke the very thing that was on my mind.

“_Ya see…” interrupted one woman who had just a short, ragged dress on.

“We all come from diff’rent backgrounds and all ‘ave diff’rent stories.”

I nodded.

“Ma boyfriend cheated on me, kick’d me out da house ‘n’ left me homeless.”

“Wow.” I shook my head.

“So, he left you in the streets to cater for yourself?”

“That’s right ma girl. And unfortunately, that’s what happened ta many of us.”

“SubhanAllah…” I whispered to myself.

All the other women, including the one with grey patches on her face nodded in agreement.

“That’s truly horrible.”

“You know…” I began, now feeling more confident due to the frustration that was building up inside of me.

“Well…in, umm.. Islam, we believe that firstly, a woman is under the care of her husband. He is her breadwinner, her guardian, her supporter, maintainer and protector.” I felt my confident growing as I took pride in my religious teachings and beautiful methods of living.

“_Wait!” I was interrupted by the woman with grey patches on her face.

“Can I ask why were ain’t allowed ta sit wiv da men?”

“I’ll, err get to that.” I said smiling and trying my best to not stutter.

“So…where was I again?” I gathered my eyebrows.

“Dat a Muslim man is suppos’d to protect his gal.”

“Oh yes.” I replied

“Not only that, no muslim man or woman should commit adultery, nor should he or she cheat on their spouse.”

“I wish my man knew that!” one woman shouted.

I just continued smiling.

“You know why? Because it breaks hearts, it breaks families, it ruins relationship, and Islam, it wants to protect the family, and the relationships and society.”

“Wow. I fought Islam was extreme and radical.”

“Don’t believe all the media tells you.” I responded seriously.

“So, what else?” another woman asked seemingly intrigued by what I was saying.

“Islam also encourages charity, feeding and helping of the poor and treating others the way you like to be treated. That’s why we are here today.”

“And in terms of segregation, in our religion we believe that men and women who are not close family, should not mix as this will cause corruption.”

“What ya mean? How?”

“We all know what’s on a man’s mind!”  I laughed and seconds later, realized how stupid I must have sounded when I said that.

“So, Islam don’t like boyfriend, hey?” asked the grey-patched woman who I found out was called Cat.

“No. A lot of cheating and adultery happens because we are scared of commitment and are unable to control our desires. Alternatively, marriage allows a man and woman to fulfill their natural desires in a legitimate and legal way and it protects illegitimate children from being born, as well as partners being cheated on.”

“Hmm. Kinda makes sense ya know. Never thought of dat.” Cat replied as she folded her arms.

“But so what if I found a guy in the gatherin’ today! Perhaps I’d av found ma Mister.”

“It doesn’t work like that! Unfortunately, many times, its not love at first sight, but lust at first sight. If you fell in love with a guy today, you must be serious enough to think ahead. What if he became the father to your child? Then what? One night stands don’t work in Islam.”

“I’ll have ‘im for a while, then leave!”

“No. That’s where the problem lies. Sleeping around is not only causing problems such as STD’s but its breaking hearts, leaving people homeless and destroying our societies because our kids don’t even know who their parents are!”

“True say.” One woman agreed.

“You’re a wise lil’ kid with a mature head on that shoulder” praised Cat who gave me a wink, which made me feel ever so uncomfortable.

“And your religion sounds pretty cool if you ask me!” said another woman.

“Yeah. But I ain’t ready for any spiritual stuff.” Said Cat. “If there were a God, why would He leave me wivout food for days eh?” I could sense the frustration in her voice.

 I paused, thought, and then spoke.

“There’s always a something positive in every situation, Cat. This life is a test. Sometimes we go through things, which may perceive to be evil, yet they have some good in it. We may not realize it, but years later but and surely one day, you will see the fruits of your patience. God tests us with good and bad days to humble us. I mean, if God didn’t decree for you to be homeless, how many of us would sacrifice our time and wealth to come and help the people? It’s a test on us too. To see if we will help others and give.”

“I see. God is good.” Said an old woman who hadn’t spoken until now.

“Also, think about it in this way. If there was no bad in the world, how would we appreciate the good?”

“God does everything for a reason. How many of you, since you’ve been homeless have called out to God in some way, shape or form?”

“Me!” said a few of them in unison.

“Exactly. So God wants you to turn to Him!”

“Yeah.. but… if there was a God, then wouldn’t he help us?”

“Have you asked Him for help?” I retaliated.

“Yeah, the other day!” Cat answered quite assumingly.

“Well then, He answered your prayer.” I smiled and looked all around.

“You’re not only being fed today. But God has even provided you with a place to stay.”

“What you on about?” Cat questioned. She raised an eyebrow.

“A little later, Imam Saaleh will fill you in about the homeless shelters.”

“Oh my. God thank you!” Cat cheered whilst the others began conversing in excitement to one another.

“I knew Jesus was there, will always be there!” the older woman spoke.

“Do you know we believe in Jesus also?” I quickly added.

“Erm. No. Muslims hate ‘im.”

“Nu-uh.  We just don’t believe he’s God because he himself says he isn’t. He’s a prophet!” I said joyously.

“Yes, but we believe Jesus is son of God and I ain’t gonna change for anybody.” Said the old woman.

“My mum was Christian. She changed. She lost her son through a miscarriage and that made her turn to God.”

“Oh I am so sorry to hear.” Cat said placing her hand on her heart.

“It’s ok. It was Gods plan.”

“How dya stay so strong, girl?” said one frail looking, skinny woman.

“Faith in God sister, faith in God.”

“Inayaaaaah!” Taymiyyah suddenly yelled rom the far end of the kitchen.

“Come, help me serve please!”

“Coming!” I replied swiftly.

“I must go, chat later. Lovely meeting you all!”

“Awww you’re a darling. Here take my number.” said Cat.

“Sure.” I quickly saved her number in my phone and thanked them all for their time.

“Enjoyed the little chat,” said another woman.

I smiled and ran off to serve. The delicious aroma of the food was filling the air and I whiffed it in. I felt full. I hadn’t eaten all day, yet for some reason I felt so filled and content. The fruits of giving Dawah, I thought.

A few hours later and everyone had gone. I sat down to take a rest from the cleaning I and the rest of the team had been doing. After serving, I had chatted a little more to Cat and some other homeless women and even exchanged addresses so they could mail letters to my dad’s surgery address, as I knew many of them didn’t have a phone.

Soon later, Imam Saleh did a short talk for the homeless, informing them of the new homeless shelters which had been built. The joy and smiles on those homeless women’s faces, was priceless.

We had to clean quickly as the hotel wanted us to check-out before seven, and it was already half five.

“All done!” Hafsah cheered.

“Alhamdulilah. Everything is squeaky clean.” Ameerah jumped up.

“Time to head home then, I guess.” Added Taymiyyah who flopped onto a nearby chair. “What a day.”

“Its been amazing!” Aiza added. “The homeless women were sooo inspiring!”

“I know right. I got to slip in a bit of Dawah too.” I informed them of my conversation with Cat and they all prayed for her guidance.

We all exchanged hugs and went outside to see the Manchester sisters off.

“Aiza, you gotta keep in touch!” I emphasized. “Gotta, ok!”

“Of course!” she responded laughing at my pleading.

“InshaAllah.” I hugged her tightly remembering the personal memoir she had share with me.

Sitting in Taymiyyah’s car and waiting for Abdullah to load our boot, I couldn’t help but feel so grateful for an amazing two days. So much had happened. From Uncle Najm’s tear-jerking speech to Aiza’s inspiring tale and Rimsha’s sudden loss. The Dawah to Cat and her friends, and the opportunity to meet with Zohra Sarwari…I couldn’t thank Allah enough.

I smiled as I leaned on the car window. Although, I felt so content and happy, something was tugging at me and I just couldn’t put a finger on it. I felt like the events that took place in these last two days were leading up to something and Allah was preparing me for it.

“Inayah?” Taymiyyah popped up from the front of the car.

“Err.. yes?” I jerked up.

“Uncle Najm wants us.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Ahh..here she is!” Uncle Najm exclaimed.

“Sorry” I squeaked.

“Ok, so great work this weekend MashaAllah. You all have been fantastic. May Allah accept it from you. Your reward is with Allah.”

“Ameen.” Taymiyyah replied.

“I’ve just got something small for you as a way of thanking you for your efforts over these past few years. Keep it. Treasure it and most importantly, let it always be a reminder for you.”

“Close your eyes and put out your hand”

I closed my eyes, clenching them tightly but then had overwhelming urge to just open them, and I did. Taymiyyah was going around handing us girls something whilst Uncle Najm was handing the boys their gifts.

“Now open.”

I quickly yanked open my eyes and glanced at the box in front of me. It was a beautiful gift box wrapped in a pink ribbon.

As I slowly lifted the lid, my first glance fell on the stunning pink Swarovski pen, which had my name, engraved on the side. Besides it sat a key-ring, and on it was personalized a message.

“Sister Inayah, the Ayesha of this Ummah. May Allah raise your rank and reward you for your every effort and your every moment spent in helping others. Remember, actions are judged by their intentions, so always keep a beautiful intention.”

May you do your parents proud.

Your Uncle, Najm.
22/7/2011


By the time I finished reading, my eyes were filled with tears. I lifted my head to gaze at the others, and like myself, they were all so touched by the expensive and thoughtful gift.

“I..I…you. Seriously, you didn’t have to!” Abdullah broke the silence struggling to articulate his thoughts into words.

“This is too much. We don’t deserve this.” He added.

“Uncle Najm!” Inayah leapt to hug her uncle. “This is the best gift EVER!!”

“Ditto” I added. “I can’t believe it. Definitely one of the best gifts I have ever received.” I swallowed, trying hard to fight the tears. They all knew what a waterfall I was.

“Don’t be silly” Uncle Najm chuckled. ‘Its nothing, seriously!”

“Even I like it!” joked my annoying brother Suleiman.

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Alhamdulilah.” Uncle Najm nodded his head. “Taymiyyah got one too!” he wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulder.

“Thankyou, Bhai.”

“Anyways, enough of this soppy talk. Lets head home!”

“I feel sick.” I said as I sat at the back of Taymiyyah’s car. For some reason, we had only been fifteen minutes into driving and I felt so nauseous.

“Whatsupp?” Taymiyyah questioned glancing at me from her front mirror.

“I just feel unwell.” I muttered.

“Do you want to stop at the service station?”

“No, I think I’ll wait till we get home.”

“I’m feeling the same.” Inayah slipped in.

Taymiyyah sighed.

“Why all this damn traffic?” Taymiyyah banged her steering wheel as she pressed down at her breaks.

“Where is Uncle?” Inayah asked stretching over the bonnet to try and get a better view of cars in front.

“He went ahead of us ages ago.” I said slouching back in my seat.

Suddenly, we heard the sound of two zooming police cars.

“Move to the hard shoulder! Quick!” I jolted up at an attempt to get Taymiyyah’s attention.

She swerved the car into the hard shoulder as two racing police cars drove by.

“Oh no. Let me ring Uncle Najm, he might know what’s happened!”

I felt a sudden knot form in my stomach. I swallowed hard and panic began overcome me.

“Why is his phone dead?”

“I just range Suleiman, his is off too.” I said with fear in my tone.

“Abdullah?... Abdullah?” Taymiyyah yelled into her phone but that too went onto voicemail.

“What if… if they’ve been involved in an accident?” my voice was quivery and I was shaking. I don’t know why but I felt like something was going to go drastically wrong

Something within me told me that Uncle Najm, Abdullah and my brother were in big trouble. From the moment I left the university to now, a slight feeling of uneasiness was tugging at me that not knowing why, made me sick to the core, and now it had become apparent.

“Chill, it can’t be…” Ameerah shook her head her husky voice showed that she too was afraid.

Just seconds later, a helicopter appeared above us and landed just a few kilometers away from us on the other side of the road.

“Oh my…” Taymiyyah jumped out her car and raced to the helicopter, following their trails.

Myself and Ameerah also hurdled outside.

Ameerah was breathing so heavily, I had to hold her close to me.

That’s when we caught site of the Motorway sign which read ‘Accident ahead in lane 1. Traffic at standstill.’

“I have a bad feeling, Nai…”

“Me too…” Ameerah buried her face in my shoulder.

“What’s going on girls?” said a male driver was smoking a cigarette in his car; puffing out smoke in the direction of our faces.

“We don’t know.”

“Do you think we should go see what’s going on? Taymiyyah’s been gone a long time?” I asked hastily. I felt as though I was going to faint.

“No, we can’t leave the car unattended.”

“I’ll go and I’ll come back for you, ok?” I placed my hands on Ameerah’s shoulders and told her to breathe and relax and that we were just panicking for nothing.

As I walked further to where Taymiyyah had followed the helicopter paramedics a looming feeling of dread began to overcome me. In the distance I could see shining lights. Two ambulances, two police classes and then… that’s when I saw her.

Taymiyyah. Standing besides an officer with her hands cupped over her mouth. She was crying.

Weeping.

My eyes darted around and suddenly I caught sight. There it was, Uncle Najm’s grey van. It was crushed. It was in such a state that my words couldn’t even describe it. Behind it was another white car, it too was in a mess.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run to Taymiyyah and burst into tears. But my heart was beating so fast, so fast, that I soon lost sense of what was going on. A churning feeling was travelling all across my belly and my head felt heavy. Like a ton of bricks were weighing it down. I wanted to just drop there and then, to just run to the car and to see my brother, and hug him so tight. I so wanted to say the words I had just recited front he Qur'an just two days ago. “Indeed to Allah We belong and indeed to Him We shall return.” But no. Everything around me became a big massive blur. I must be dreaming. My surroundings were swerving from left to right. I wouldn’t’ and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Maybe it wasn’t true and just an illusion. The hovering sound of the helicopter soon disappeared with me as I fell, fell onto the same road my brother’s, uncle Najm’s and Abdullah’s body lay.


“Inayah!” A familiar voice echoed in my ears as I slowly lifted open my eyes. I stared ahead of me, at the pale blue wall in front of me. The window ahead of me was open and the sound of birds were chirping outside. For a moment, I thought I had awoken from a bad dream, but as I turned my painful head to the right, my eyes froze as I stared up at a tall familiar figure. It was Ummi.

“Inayah! Oh Inayah sweety!” she screamed as she rested her head against my chest. I didn’t know where I was or what was going on, but as I rolled my eyes around the room, I realized, that I was in fact in hospital, on a hospital bed.

“U-u-umm-i-i.. “ I struggled to speak as I lifted my weak arms around my mothers neck. She quickly jolted up and wipe the tears which I hadn’t realized were dripping from my eyes. I felt so numb so stiff.

“Oh, Alhamdulilah you’re ok babe!” she wailed.

“Its ok, Salman is fine, he’s in the room next door. He’s fine. Don’t worry. Just relax and I’ll fill you in about it all later, ok?” My mum spoke so fast I had to concentrate hard on what she was saying.

I breathed.

“It’s going to be ok my darling.” My mum rambled on. She lifted my hand and gave it a kiss on my hand.

“Your dads on his way.”

I felt so pathetic. Here I was sitting in a hospital bed with my mum yapping on in front of me and yet I couldn’t utter a word back.

“Are you ok?”

I glanced at my hand, which had been wrapped in a bandage and nodded my head.

It was not only till an hour later that I could finally say something. My body was in such a shock that I had forgotten how I had even arrived at the hospital. However, after a little thought I remembered and then it hit me.


“Mum, mum!” I screamed. “Where’s Suleiman? And Ameerah and Taymiyyah? Oh Ummi, are Uncle Najm and Abdullah ok?” I was shaking and didn’t realize it until ummi came and calmed me down.

Friday 27 March 2015

The Broken Heart



So many times I've come to you broken,
Broken and betrayed.
Yet, as I held those tiny shattered pieces in my hands,
Sorrowful over that which caused me pain,
You intervened.
Soothed my grief with the coolness of faith,
Calmed my worries when they were too difficult to face,
Strengthened my soul when a weak heart cried,
Filled it with a kind of peace words can't describe,
But most of all,
You inspired me to pray,
Through the agony and tears,
You taught me words,
Which cooled the burning fury and rage,
Which caused my heartbeat to go back to its normal pace,
And gave me another rope to hold onto tight,
Reminded me that light would follow even the darkest night,
Those words?
'O Allah take me out of my plight and bring to me after it something better.'


<3

Friday 13 March 2015

Steps to Allah

Some gems from Steps To Allah 2015 :)

Abu Bilal:

The sahaabah would learn the seerah like they learnt a surah from the Quran.
 Every naseeha, even if it is from a child, should transform your life.
 The Prophet Muhammed ﷺ came to take people out of darkness and into the light of Islaam.

9th of Rabi ul awwal (or 12th), a spring monday morning, 50-55 days after Abraha and his army failed their attack on the Kaabah - The Prophet Muhammed was born.

 "Finest from the finest from the finest of all people."
 The Prophet Muhammed ﷺ was known as Al-Amin before he was known as a Rasulﷺ.
Salaam came from Allah, the best angel to the best prophet to Khadijah (ra).

Dr Saalim; The Wahi (The Revelation)
Dreams would come to the Prophet Muhammed ﷺ like the sunshine. (i.e- they were so clear).
 The Prophet Muhammed ﷺ would take barley and porridge up to cave Hira.
When the light of the Quraan touches the light of emaan in your heart - the heart will come alive, and when it doesn't there maybe a knot in our heart.

How do we make our heart soft? - Aisha (ra): "When we pray salaah, it is as if we are putting a spray on our hearts. The dhikr after the salaah is what polishes and wipes our heart. So never forget the dhikr after salaah.

One thing that the Quraish could never attack was the character of the Prophet Muhammed ﷺ.

Allah looked in the hearts of billions and billions of people, yet he found the prophet Muhammed ﷺ to have the best of hearts - and so he chose him to spread his mercy. 

We need to make the Quraan our friend like our friends on Whatsapp.

3 characteristics which will allow you to taste sweetness of emaan:


1. Love what he loves.
2. Dhikhr after salaah.
3. Apply sunnah in daily life.


Yusha Evans - Mus'ab Ibn Umar

 Mus'abs mother hated the prophet Muhammad ﷺ.
Saad Ibn Muadh became muslim in Yathib as a result of Musabs dawah.
The throne of Ar-Rahman shook out of love Allah had for Saad Ibn Mu'aad.
Angles would come from the heavens to sit with Usayd and listen to his Quraan.
Your allowed to have things, but don't let them things own you.
 You can have everything, but if you don't have Allah, you have nothing.
There are people who in this life look like they have everything but when they meet allah they will have nothing and then theres people who look like they have nothing but when they meet Allah, they will have everything.
Abdul Bari Yahya - Israa' Wal Miraj
When somebody hurts us, we want to avenge. We should instead retaliate with peace.
He who bows down to Allah can stand up to anything.
 Most of the time the problem is not a problem it's the (can't read the word mads) of a problem that is a problem.
 Allah give the Prophet Muhammed  the gift of Salaah in the heavens.
































Thursday 5 March 2015

When I was 14...

When I was around 14 years old, a sister wrote me a card, sealed it up and wrote on the back of it: 'Madiyah, The Ayesha of this Ummah inshaAllah.'

As a 14 year old, those few words had a lasting impact on me and still do to this day. It wasn't because I was so happy to be praised in such way, Allah knows my weaknesses and my errors, and in no way did I feel entitled to have it wrote to me. Its not even because I was filled with pride for being associated with a woman whose persona, life and knowledge far far surpasses mine, and it wasn't because it made me feel special or worthy.
Rather, the reason it remains etched in my memory is because it reminds me that no matter what I'm doing in life, how much I may have improved from the past, how much I may have accomplished by His will, there is SO much more to do if I want to come close to imitating such role models.
It also motivated me to want to live up to this title, and want to aim higher. I will never be what Ayesha (ra) was. She was a woman whose faith was complete, whose knowledge was like an ocean, who was a beautiful wife... but I can always learn from her, and let her life and example be a guiding lamp on my path to accomplishing my dreams.
I also learnt that we as an Ummah cry: "Where are the Abu Bakrs of this Ummah?" Yet, fail to realise change begins within ourselves. Why wait for someone else to become that Abu Bakr, that Umar, that Khadidja? Why not begin with yourself! There is no limit to the possibilities when Allah is Protector and the Best of Helpers.
Its not about pride, its about setting high goals for yourself. Its about taking it in your stride to do what you can to improve and become like giants of the past, without letting go of humility and modesty. Whilst remembering that you will never absolutely match them, and whilst acknowledging that all good is from Him alone.
May Allah allow me to be inspired by the ways of Ayesha (r). May He make me much better than the expectations they have of me and of that which they think of me. heart emoticon