You’ve been hanging onto the edge of your seats for this final installment in the “You Found ‘The One’ In Your MSA” series! This is when I share real-life MSA courtship stories and romances that I know of. These examples help me convince you to be very careful about how you move forward and consider the advice I’ve shared in this series with you!

Previously in this series: Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 |Part 4

 

College is a great opportunity to stay on the lookout for a spouse–no matter how much of a joke and stereotype that sounds like! You have some baseline compatibility: your level of education, your age, your religiosity, your volunteer efforts with the MSA, your alma mater, and geographical location. That’s a pretty good start, honestly. So, of course, there are so many stories of courtships and romances, on various points of the spectrums of happy and sad and halal and haram. All of these stories can act as valuable case studies to help you navigate your own courtships on the path to marriage.

MSA Courtship Gone Wrong  – Moving Forward Without Having The Marriage Talk With Your Parents First

One of my good friends in the MSA was approached by a brother for marriage. He had sent a proposal through a local shaykh that the sister’s family had a very good relationship with. Her parents met with the shaykh and this brother, and her parents were really happy with the suitor. The brother and sister started talking to get to know each other with the sister’s parent’s approval and she realized that they’d work out as a great couple. 

What happens next? Her parents want to meet with his family and get things official now that they hear their daughter is certain of her decision to marry this brother. When they’ve reached this stage in their courtship, the brother now approaches his parents telling them that he wants to get married and he’s found the perfect girl from his MSA. The brother and sister I speak of are from completely different ethnic backgrounds. The brother’s family had a strong preference that he marry someone from within his own ethnic background, and this became a huge problem. In the meantime, the sister’s family is waiting to hear from the brother’s family…but the brother is trying to convince his family to change their mind about this issue. Now he’s getting the shaykh involved, hoping he’ll have a successful intervention with his family. 

Finally, the brother’s parents agree to meet the sister and her family. While meeting with his family, this sister noticed that she and her family weren’t being respected and treated nicely. She made istikhaarah and she had a very bad feeling about moving forward. She told me it broke her heart to walk away from that courtship because she really believed that the two of them fit so well together. He was a great brother in so many ways and their lifestyles and family life expectations were in line…but she couldn’t overlook the disapproval from the brother’s family about her racial background. She told me, “When I thought of how they would treat my kids, seeing them so dark-skinned and looking so different from everyone else in their family, I couldn’t go forward with it.” She told me that it took her a long time to heal from that and move forward. 

By the way, she confided this all to me when I visited her at her home the day before she was getting married to someone else she was introduced to through family. She mentioned how she was so relieved to move out of state after getting married because the brother from the MSA had told his fiancé, another girl from the MSA, about their courtship and she was hostile towards my friend. Go figure! This brother’s poor judgment also extended insofar as telling his fiancé about the other women he pursued in the MSA…

Who is to blame for all of this heartbreak? You would be rash to accuse the brother’s parents, although it is tempting. I blame the brother. Had he just approached his parents like an adult and told them about his desire to get married, they could have had the conversations they needed then. He could have heard how vehemently they needed him to marry a girl “from our village.” If he disagreed, he could have worked on his parents on his own, trying to convince them otherwise. He could have called in support from the shaykh or friends or family who would be on his side and think the way he does–that ethnic heritage and racial background are tertiary matters when considering a potential spouse. 

But he wasn’t mature enough to face his parents and do the necessary work. How dare he drag a sister and her family into a courtship that he didn’t even know his parents would consider valid? 

Luckily for this brother and sister, they didn’t end up resorting to a haram relationship to wait out the storm his parents caused because her family was involved. They had a chaperone, the local imam, from the beginning and this kept them on course. But imagine if you don’t have the families or a chaperone involved at all? You might start making compromises you would have never expected yourself to make. 

 – Asking About Someone When You Know Your Parents Don’t Want You To Get Married

Hey, this story is about me! I mentioned briefly in Part 2 about a brother who asked a shaykh to inquire about me. This happened at an Ilm Summit I attended years ago (Ilm Summit marriages, college MSA marriages–same boat). I was still in undergrad but this guy was in professional school. I had made it a rule to never reject someone without talking to them at least once, taking the advice of my marriage-mentor friend. I had no clue who this brother was, so I asked one of my friends back home to stalk this guy online. That’s what good friends do for you! There were some strange things that came up about him, mostly shirtless pictures of him with scantily clad women on beaches all over his social media, and so I had a handful of reservations about him. 

I put those hesitations aside and called my mom to tell her about this. At this point in my life, my mom had already ambushed me six months before with a surprise rishta meet-up so “I was out” on the marriage market, to put it in Jane Austen terminology. She said the first step would be for the brother’s mom to get in touch with her directly. It turns out that our families grew up only 30 minutes away from each other and my mom knew of his family. So, I gave the shaykh my mom’s phone number, which he passed to the brother. In the meantime, my mom made inquiries about their family from mutual friends. My mom is waiting for a phone call, but no phone call comes. I check back in with the shaykh at my mom’s insistence, and also at my annoyance that I’m being stood up by some random bro. After a little back-and-forth, the shaykh lets me know that this brother’s family is not willing for him to get married until he finishes up his graduate studies. Imagine how annoyed my mom and I were.

To make things worse, being ghosted by him haunted me as I had unwittingly interacted with his female family members.  I met his mother shortly after this twice the next Ramadan. On one of these occasions, I spent over five minutes chatting with this brother’s mom. After the first instance, my mother told me who I was talking to and then pointed out that the brother was standing near us while I talked to his mom. I was simultaneously mortified and upset–what impression may I have given to the brother or his family? I swore to myself I would memorize her face and avoid her at all costs for the rest of Ramadan. A few years later, I went for Hajj with his sister without realizing who she was until later. It just put a sour taste in my mouth, do you know what I mean? It also made me wonder if something about me or my family wasn’t good enough in their family’s eyes. Being in the marriage market put me in a delicate, self-conscious state and it was too much to handle. It reminded me of a difficult and frustrating experience that I’d rather forget.  

 – Going Rogue With No Families Involved At All

PC: Asterfolio (unsplash)

Here’s one of many stories I’ve heard of a brother and sister in the MSA contacting each other for marriage and then they end up dating for years because they’re not ready to involve their parents. 

When I was a freshman in college, a junior had befriended me and was my MSA mentor. I loved talking to her and hanging out with her and I felt so cool having an upperclassman as a friend. Then one day, she sends me an IM (instant message) telling me she has a secret she wants to tell me about. Her secret? That she is “best friends” with one of the brothers from the MSA. I’m thinking to myself –what the flip does that mean?- and so I ask her. She tells me that they’re best friends waiting to get married. Still, I’m confused, so I probe further. Neither of them are ready to ask their parents if they can get married–he’s a sophomore and she’s a junior. So in the meantime, they’re just “best friends” waiting it out together.

BS! You’d call that boyfriend and girlfriend, not best friends! Even if they’re just in an emotionally intimate and committed relationship, it is still haram. For some reason, however, many dismiss these situationships very easily as not that bad because nothing gets physical–without acknowledging that emotional damage can be very devastating. 

So I told my friend that I didn’t approve of her secret best friend and thought they should end their mutual understanding. She told me she had tried to cut him off in the past, but it hadn’t worked. I asked her to try again and she said she wouldn’t. I ended my friendship with this sister. Why? I didn’t want to be dragged down into the secret MSA dating scene and I knew that being close to her would put me at the risk of falling into that sin myself. I was much more concerned about self-preservation than having friends who were bad company.

Thankfully I ended up making other friends and was spared from having to interact with her that much for the rest of the time I was in undergrad. I also knew what she was doing was something I was so staunchly against that I wouldn’t be able to be chill or friendly like before with her anymore, no matter how hard I tried. It would be better for me and better for us, no matter how I looked at it. 

But what happened to these best friends determined to get married? They broke up while they were in undergrad, I’m not sure why. Both brother and sister BFFs got together with other people in the MSA. One of these new spin-off couples dated openly, even around the MSA and at MSA events (I have a lot of feelings about that, but at least they weren’t totally hypocritical like the rest of the secret MSA couples). Interestingly both these new couples got married in the end. Looking at some wedding pictures, I was thinking to myself…isn’t it weird for the groom to be hugging his wife’s ex-boyfriend at his own wedding? Their problem, not mine.

 – Giving It Up And Getting Ghosted

Apparently, this is a story that played on repeat while I was in the MSA. A brother and sister become involved. It starts out as an emotional attachment. The brother reassures the sister they will get married as soon as he graduates from undergrad or gets into medical school. In the meantime, the relationship starts getting physical. The brother gradually begins to pressure the sister to have intercourse with him as they move further and further along. She’s caught feelings for this brother and believes they will get married soon enough. They finally have sex and continue to for some period of time and then he dumps her. Although both parties consent to some degree, the sister would not have gotten there without proper encouragement from the brother. 

This situation was common enough that the sophomore sisters in the MSA had an infamous meeting with the freshman girls and warned them against letting a brother talk them into giving it up on the pretense of getting married. There was a divorced sister in our MSA who also mentioned to me that multiple girls confided in her that they were in sexually active relationships with brothers in the MSA without having a clue how to prevent pregnancies or safeguard against STDs. She was the one who advised them to start taking birth control pills and insisted on using condoms every time. She also told me that these brothers and sisters ranged from the ones who came around the MSA occasionally to the ones who led prayers and were memorizing the Quran. She also told me of masjid parking lot hook-ups in cars. Needless to say, I was in tears when she told me all of these stories. 

The only advice I can give someone about a situation like this is to avoid getting into a relationship until you and your family are ready for you to be married. Some Muslim couples can box their covert relationships into an emotional plane and remain there until marriage. However, others cannot–at no fault to them. It is only natural for emotional feelings to be expressed in physical ways. Shaytan is always the third party when a man and woman, or any mutually attracted parties, are alone together. It is difficult to control and stifle strong feelings, so don’t put yourself in a testing position. If someone is promising you they will marry you, then save yourself until marriage. If you truly care about the other person, you should also care about their hereafter.

Courtship Stories From The MSA: When It Went Right!  – Going Directly To Her Dad

After I got married, I moved to a small college town with a tight-knit, very active Muslim community. There, one of my husband’s friends had approached him one night to ask him about a sister he had noticed at the masjid. My husband and this sister had worked together for the masjid’s Sunday school. Knowing that, this brother wanted my husband’s opinion of her. Within the next week, he had decided to move forward with a proposal of interest and he asked to meet the sister’s father. Bam! Engaged in a week! Look at that, mashaAllah. She was in undergrad at the time and he was in graduate school. They had a nikkah period and then had a bigger wedding later when they moved in together. Later on, this friend told me what a sensation it caused in her family for this young man to be so direct and ask for her hand. Mad props to that brother for diving in headfirst! 

 – A Missed Opportunity…Or A Match Destined in Heaven?

PC: Photos by Lanty (unsplash)

One of my good friends in undergrad was determined to be a matchmaker. Poor soul. She had shipped one of our friends and a brother in the MSA and was determined to get them married. She approached a local imam and asked him to inquire about the brother on our friend’s behalf without telling our friend first. This brother was not ready to get married–he knew he wanted to go to graduate school and that his finances wouldn’t allow him to take on the responsibility of having a wife in the picture. So he politely declined, telling the imam he wouldn’t be ready for a few years due to his finances while he was pursuing his career after graduating. 

When my friend found out about the Shakespearean plot they undertook behind her back, she was mad. It created an uncomfortable dynamic between the brother and my friend–the brother thinking that my friend was interested in him and then believing he had rejected her. 

Years later, my friend is at a family party and she meets a woman she totally loves. It turns out the feeling is mutual. This woman calls my friend’s aunt telling her that she’s looking for her nephew to get married and she thinks my friend and him would be a great match. Guess who it turned out to be? You’re sitting at your computer screen yelling, NO WAY! Yes. Yes way. It turned out to be this brother from the MSA that our friends had tried to set my friend up with years ago. It took a lot for my friend to come around after resenting the scheme that caused her so much embarrassment, but they got married in the end! They are such a good match for each other! I hadn’t heard about this whole drama in undergrad, but my friend spilled the tea when she called me to tell me she was engaged to this brother. 

So many times we think that if we don’t act now while we’re both in college, that person will slip through our fingers. But that’s not necessarily true. When Allah has written for two people to be together, they will find each other in the end. Look at the years of a haram relationship they were saved from because the brother was simply mature enough to say, “This isn’t a responsibility I can manage for the next few years.” Masha’Allah. I love their whole story.

 – Getting Matched By A Community Member

Another good story coming out of my MSA was when a community member involved with the MSA matched two graduating seniors. The story goes that she thought they would be a great match, so she facilitated connecting them and their families to each other. I was so happy to hear that their story was such an innocent and beautiful one, because back then finding out people I respected were in haram MSA relationships really messed with my head.

 – Going Through A Shaykh

Remember that brother with a racist family who got a shaykh involved and then the sister was left heartbroken? Well, this same shaykh was approached by another brother in the MSA. He wanted to send a proposal to a sister in the MSA and so the shaykh facilitated it. Their families were connected and the brother and sister ended up getting married, alhamdulillah. The brother at the time was in graduate school and the sister was still in undergrad. This sister told me that her family was not even considering marriage for her and getting married would complicate how her college tuition would get paid for. There were some logistical hurdles they had to clear, but they figured them out. Even when a family may be hesitant for a child to get married due to how young they are or the fact that they still have to finish up college, coming honorably with a respected community leader can make a huge difference. Also, this brother is a very good guy and her father knew he would be foolish to stand in the way of a very good future for his daughter. Such a good ending!

Courtship Stories From The MSA: Somewhere In The Middle  – They Ended Up Married In The End…What’s The Big Deal?

Another woman I know wriggled her way into a relationship with a brother very early on in college. One of the individuals was in a very difficult position with their family, and so the move towards marriage took at least a few years. In the meantime, this couple had their haram relationship going–hanging on to the idea they’d get married one day. Things eventually worked out between the two of them and they got married! How exciting and what a relief, right? 

Well, their transition from an emotional relationship (mostly online) into a real-world relationship sharing the same space was not easy. This person mentioned being physically intimate was very difficult for them and after months of being married they still hadn’t managed to consummate the marriage. I’m not sure what compounding factors were making this aspect of their marriage so difficult, but maybe they were dealing with a lot of baggage from their years of enforcing the “halal gap” and had trouble bridging that gap after marriage. 

I know of another situation similar to that. This marriage ended due to a disconnect once the individuals finally got married. This couple had been secretly dating since high school, mostly contacting each other over the phone and messaging online. They finally got married after graduating from college. Having been together for almost a decade in a haram, mostly online relationship, these individuals had incredible difficulty with physical intimacy in addition to other defects in character they didn’t have a chance to uncover until after marriage. This one, sadly, ended in divorce.

There is a reason Islam has an “all-or-nothing” approach to romantic relationships. It’s unnatural to separate emotional intimacy and physical intimacy. Many times Muslims will be like celibate best friends when they’re in relationships they know they shouldn’t be in. Maybe there’s something that makes it incredibly difficult to turn off the guilt and reconnect all the layers of intimacy together once they finally get married.

 – Long Engagement And A Baby Soon After Marriage

Another couple from an academic program I was in has a story somewhere in the middle of a success and horror story because they were in an extended courtship that lasted for years before they married. Right after the program, a brother approaches a sister’s aunt to confide in her that he is interested in her niece for marriage and would like to speak to her to see if they are compatible. The aunt knows that the sister’s mother does not want her daughter to get married. Nevertheless, the aunt tells the brother to approach the sister and begin talking for marriage. The aunt gives them a period of time to get to know each other and decide to get married. The brother wasn’t on the sister’s radar at all, and so the sister wants to take her time. They end up talking to determine whether or not they want to get married for three years! Both had finished undergrad before they started speaking.

No doubt during these three years of determining their mutual compatibility, they’ve grown to become celibate boyfriend and girlfriend. In the meantime, the aunt has been slowly trying to get the mother to warm up to the idea that her daughter is ready for marriage. Sadly, the brother had not approached his family, either, and they did not consent to him getting married until after he finished graduate school. Eventually, both families agreed to let the two get engaged. A local imam had tried multiple times to reason with the families and allow the couple to have their nikkah at the engagement party so that they could operate their long-distance emotional relationship within halal boundaries. But no. Their engagement was also excruciatingly long and lasted for a few years. They finally got married after seven years, alhamdulillah. On the eve of their wedding, I was texting back and forth with the bride and she told me, “It’s been so long. I just want to finally give him a hug.” Shortly after their wedding, they had unexpectedly conceived their first child and were not thrilled about the timing. After being forced to wait so long to get married, they wanted some time to themselves before starting a family. This was the most heartbreaking moment for me to experience in their relationship. 

The mistakes here are many. The first is that the brother did not consult with his family before approaching the sister. The second is that the person he entrusted, the sister’s aunt, was not a worthy mediator who could take up the role of third-party messenger responsibly. The positives here are many. The brother approached a family member of the sister he was interested in. The couple began to talk about marriage as the intention out in the open, although there wasn’t enough oversight from a chaperone to help keep this period reasonably short. The couple got a local imam that both families knew and liked involved to help advocate on their behalf for a speedy marriage. The couple resisted physical temptations until they were married and didn’t have an issue moving to the physical after marriage. This situation is a mixed bag of good and bad and a great example to learn from. 

Final Thoughts

Navigating the marriage and courtship process can be overwhelming and confusing, so make sure you have a couple of trusted mentors to rely on to help guide you. Whatever the outcome may be with this particular MSA prospective, I pray you find your destined life partner sooner, rather than later. Most importantly, I wish you happiness with your spouse in this life and the next!

 

Related:

– 3 Steps To Safely Prepare For Your Halal Marriage – As Simple As ABC

– Podcast: Sex, Marriage, and Mutual Obligations in Islam | Ustadh Mukhtar Ba

The post Courtship Stories From The MSA: You Found “The One” In Your MSA [Part 5] appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

As Bangladesh reflects on passing another Victory Day on December 16, the nation stands at a critical juncture, confronting some of the most challenging moments in its 52-year history. It is no exaggeration to claim that the country is grappling with almost insurmountable political, geostrategic, and human rights crises, compounded by recent elections held just last month that were marred by allegations of being neither free nor fair.

The people of what was once East Pakistan, now Bangladesh, endured significant persecution and discrimination from the rulers in West Pakistan, both politically and economically. The oppressive policies, language disparities, and neglect of East Pakistani needs led to widespread discontent and a push for autonomy. The refusal to acknowledge the Awami League’s electoral victory under Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in 1970, sparked an intense yearning for independence. The war in 1971 saw countless civilians killed, injured, sexually assaulted, and displaced in a spate of brutal violence by the Pakistan armed forces. Bangladesh emerged from these events, founded on the core principles of democracy, freedom of expression, and self-determination – principles that resonate with the tenets of justice and equality. However, under the Hasina regime, the nation’s trajectory seems to diverge sharply from the aspirations championed by her father.

Internal Election Issues and External Impact

The historical context of Bangladesh has firmly rooted the principle of ‘consent of the governed’ as a central value for its people. Yet, a stark discrepancy emerges when examining the electoral processes in Bangladesh since Sheikh Hasina’s ascendancy. Every election conducted under the Awami League regime, such as those in 2014, 2018, and 2024, has been widely perceived as biased, manipulated, and flawed. Despite being founded on democratic ideals, these consistent electoral irregularities highlight a troubling reality: politicians maintain power without a genuine mandate from a significant portion of the populace.

As Bangladesh has now concluded its 2024 election and the United States intensified pressure on the government for a free and fair electoral process, the role of India in Bangladesh’s politics has resurfaced in discussions. Following the U.S.’s announcement of a new visa policy in May 2023 to support democracy in Bangladesh, some Indian commentators have argued that it is ‘not the right time’ for such support and there is necessity for Delhi to ensure Hasina remains in power. 

Just prior to the election, GM Quader and Mujibul Haque Chunnu, the chairman and general secretary of the Jatiya Party respectively, met with Rajesh Kumar Agnihotri, the Minister at the High Commission of India in Bangladesh. Intriguingly, Agnihotri and seven other Indian embassy staff were accused of espionage and terrorism by Pakistan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

For almost the whole year, the Jatiya Party (JP), the primary opposition in parliament against the ruling Awami League, was ambivalent about participating in the election. However, on November 22, Chunnu unexpectedly announced on Quader’s behalf that the Jatiya Party would contest in nearly all 300 constituencies. Acting as controlled opposition, this resulted in JP winning 11 seats that were not contested by the Awami League, and 62 independent candidates winning seats, with 58 of them being ruling party leaders.

This sudden shift had raised questions, especially considering Quader’s previous public statements about the likelihood of Western sanctions if the election proceeds under the current conditions. The only conceivable explanation seems to be intense coercion by external forces, possibly RAW (India’s foreign intelligence agency) agents, to lend a façade of legitimacy to this lopsided election by ensuring the Jatiya Party’s enthusiastic participation.

These recent electoral maneuvers are symptomatic of a broader pattern of policies that underscore Bangladesh’s subservience to Indian government interests, often at the expense of its own people.

Indo-Bangladesh Relations: A Tilted Scale

[Prime Minister’s office/Handout via Reuters]

Concerns among Bangladeshi analysts are growing over what appears to be an increasingly lopsided relationship favoring India under the Hasina regime. Bangladesh has extended significant support to India, including efforts to combat insurgency in its Northeastern region, providing transit access, granting India permanent use of key Bay of Bengal ports, and entering into a costly energy deal. Additionally, Bangladesh has agreed to a surveillance system installation in the Bay of Bengal and a water-sharing deal giving India control over the Kushiyara River, alongside deepening defense cooperation.

In stark contrast, Bangladesh’s interests have often been sidelined. The long-standing request for a Teesta River water-sharing agreement remains unaddressed; the India-Bangladesh border witnesses the Indian Border Security Force killing innocent Bangladeshis; the trade imbalance increasingly tilts in India’s favor; and Bangladesh has not garnered Indian support in handling the Rohingya refugee crisis.

In 2018, Sheikh Hasina, responding to a query about reciprocity from India, remarked that India would forever remember Bangladesh’s contributions. This comment reflects the ongoing imbalance in bilateral relations, sustained largely by India’s unwavering support for the Hasina government. Notably, in the wake of the controversial 2014 elections, India’s Foreign Secretary Sujatha Singh reportedly pressured the Jatiya Party, led by General H.M. Ershad, to participate in the election boycotted by opposition parties. In 2018, despite clear signs of the Awami League’s erosion of democratic norms and institutions, India’s support has remained steadfast. 

These actions have fueled perceptions in Bangladesh that India’s backing is crucial for the Hasina government’s survival, raising questions about the true independence of Bangladesh’s internal affairs and the origin of skewed foreign policy. 

Exploring Bangladesh’s Ummatic Identity

The 1971 Liberation War fostered an alliance between Bangladesh and India, with expectations that India’s support would extend its influence over Bangladesh’s policies and counteract Pakistan and Islam’s influence in the subcontinent.

December 16, 1971, marked Bangladesh’s emergence as a sovereign nation, followed by Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s initiation of trials against local collaborators and accused Pakistanis. Although Rahman established seventy-three special tribunals, a general amnesty led to the release of most prisoners and convicted individuals.

The Awami League’s 2008 electoral victory reactivated the dormant ICT Act, leading to the establishment of two tribunals in 2010 and 2012. Notably, leaders of Bangladesh Jamaat-e-Islami, an entity representing moderate Islamism and a political rival of the Awami League, were mostly charged, echoing Geoffrey Robertson’s critique of ‘victor’s justice’ and selective amnesty applications.

These trials, however, have been marred by political motivations, procedural irregularities, and lack of due process. The verdicts often relied on circumstantial evidence and hearsay, undermining their credibility. The infamous Skype scandal, involving inappropriate communication between a judge and a prosecution witness, further tainted the trials. Changes in the composition of the bench during critical trials, including those of Nizami and Azam, raised questions about the fairness of the verdicts, as judges who delivered final judgments were not privy to all the evidence.

In an ironic turn, the trials intended to serve as a beacon of justice for the atrocities of the 1971 war have, through their politicization, unfairness, and corruption, instead revealed a profound desecration of the very ideals once fought for by Sheikh Hasina and her regime. This effectively amounts to standing on the graves of innocent Bengali civilians, a betrayal of the memories of those who perished due to injustice and oppression.

The repression of Jamaat and BNP by the autocratic Hasina regime poses a serious threat to the stability and security of Bangladesh as it undermines the prospects for peace and fuels extremism. The West’s Islamophobia, which brands “brown” communities as “terrorists,” and Bangladesh’s tendency to associate “extremism” with anything Islamic in the public sphere, demonstrate the impact of colonialism and Indian influence on the political landscape.

In fact, Muslim-majority Bangladesh has experienced an increase in terrorist attacks on religious minorities, secularist and atheist writers, and bloggers because of exacerbating the problem by fueling extremism rather than effectively addressing concerns of legitimate political opponents. Following 7/16, Hasina rightly criticized these acts because of them maligning the name of Islam, and her allies and other politicians looped in BNP to say they were behind the attacks to destabilize Hasina’s rule.

Interestingly, when Bangladesh expresses concerns about the rise of Islamist or Shariah influence within the Republic, their apprehensions evidently extend beyond groups like Ansarullah Bangla Team, Jamaat-ul-Mujahideen, or ISIS. Rather, they are often more focused on moderate Islamist and reformist movements, such as the Muslim Brotherhood and Jamaat-e-Islami, and their allies operating in Bangladesh. These movements seek to employ political participation and activism to advance their objectives, which center around upholding religious principles, stewardship of the Earth, and the establishment of justice and prosperity—an agenda that challenges the stability of the South Asian political order, particularly when backed by public opinion.

Historically, India has demonstrated a tendency to suppress these movements through intervention in South Asia. Notable instances include Indian suppression of Kashmiri resistance, Indian involvement in influencing the 2013 ICT, and the development of state-sponsored Hindutva extremism across the subcontinent.

Conversely, terrorist attacks perpetrated by groups like Jamaat-ul-Mujahideen and ISIS have often provided Bangladesh with the pretext to redefine free speech laws, impose censorship, suppress certain groups, mischaracterize others, and expand terrorist watchlists. Consequently, within the framework of liberal democratic Bangladesh secular societies, the concept of freedom of speech has become an instrument measured by its capacity to maintain a superficial sense of social order of the Hasina regime, primarily benefiting Awami League elites and their associates.

Since these events, thousands of mosques have operated under the direct authority of the Islamic Foundation, with government-funded imams and employees overseeing their operations. Even mosques not overseen by the Islamic Foundation are subject to oversight from governing committees dominated by local ruling party politicians and administration.

Imams across the country have reported continued government influence in their appointment and removal, as well as guidance on the content of their sermons. Government-issued written instructions often highlight certain Quran verses and hadith with the goal of ensuring sermons align with government policy and avoid contradicting it.

Furthermore, Bangladesh has set a concerning precedent by banning moderate preachers based on accusations of hate speech. One notable example is the banning of Peace TV, a channel associated with renowned da’ee Zakir Naik, following an unfounded link between his speeches and the events of 7/16.

In 2020, the Bangladesh government took further steps by banning Mizanur Rahman Azhari, one of the country’s most popular speakers, from preaching at congregations due to his perceived anti-government sentiment. These actions are purportedly justified under the guise of counter-terrorism efforts, but they ultimately serve to suppress powerful orators who advocate for justice and speak truths that contradict the government’s policies and agenda.

The Rohingya Crisis and Hasina’s Failures

[Reuters/Soe Zeya Tun]

The Rohingya crisis, perpetuated by the longstanding persecution in Myanmar, has reached catastrophic proportions under Prime Minister Hasina’s watch in Bangladesh. For generations, Myanmar’s Buddhist majority and military have ruthlessly targeted the Rohingya minority, initiating what can only be described as a genocide to achieve a “Muslim-free” state. The systematic rape and massacre of Muslim women and children in Arakan and Rakhine states exemplify the extreme brutality endured by the Rohingya community.

Despite the harrowing conditions faced by the Rohingya, the international response has been grossly inadequate. Organizations tasked with protecting human rights have failed to take effective action, allowing the crisis to escalate to unprecedented levels. The mass exodus of Rohingya to Bangladesh has resulted in the establishment of Kutupalong refugee camp, now the largest of its kind in the world, near the Myanmar border.

Critically, Prime Minister Hasina’s administration must be held accountable for its role in exacerbating the Rohingya plight. While attempting to portray itself as a savior for Rohingya refugees since other South Asian countries did not assist, the government’s actions belie a different reality. Hasina’s alignment with India and its anti-Muslim agenda directly undermines any genuine efforts to address the crisis.

India’s reluctance to provide refuge to Rohingya from Burma, despite their shared border, is compounded by their internal policies that actively suppress Muslims, exemplified by the Citizenship Amendment Law (CAB). The primary objective of the CAB is to delegitimize Muslim citizenship, thus exacerbating the plight of persecuted minorities like the Rohingya. Myanmar’s exclusion from the list of nations specified in the bill, despite its geographical proximity to India, highlights the deliberate omission aimed at avoiding granting amnesty to Rohingyas. This decision contradicts the bill’s purported emphasis on providing refuge to religious minorities in India’s neighborhood, underscoring the discriminatory nature of India’s approach to the Rohingya crisis.

Under Hasina’s leadership, Bangladesh has failed to provide meaningful solutions to the Rohingya crisis. Despite hosting nearly a million refugees, the government has taken a passive stance, offering no initiatives to facilitate legal entry, prevent illegal immigration, or ensure the well-being of Rohingya within its borders.

Bangladesh has historically served as a temporary safe haven for millions of Rohingya refugees, with waves of migration occurring in the late 1970s and after 1991. However, despite this influx, the government has failed to implement significant initiatives to address the crisis effectively. As of September 2023, nearly a million Rohingya refugees have been registered and documented jointly by the Government of Bangladesh and UNHCR. Yet, under the Awami League’s leadership, Bangladesh has taken a passive role in defusing tensions along the Myanmar frontier. There have been no substantial efforts to facilitate the legal entrance of Rohingya, prevent illegal immigration, provide adequate assistance while they reside in Bangladesh, or create safer conditions for their potential return to Myanmar. Regrettably, Prime Minister Hasina has shown no inclination to engage in developing or contributing to either temporary or permanent solutions to the Rohingya crisis, leaving the plight of these refugees in a state of prolonged uncertainty and neglect.

Prime Minister Hasina’s track record regarding assistance for Rohingya refugees entering Bangladesh is marred by a lack of genuine interest in their plight. Instead of prioritizing humanitarian concerns, Hasina appears more preoccupied with safeguarding the country’s international image. This indifference has translated into minimal efforts to provide meaningful support for Rohingya seeking refuge, reflecting a disturbing lack of empathy and responsibility towards a vulnerable population in dire need of assistance.

Furthermore, the Hasina government’s failure to effectively address illegal immigration and ensure national security along the Myanmar border has had devastating consequences. Despite the recurring exchange of bullets, mortar shells, and rocket launcher explosions between Myanmar’s armed forces and insurgent groups, resulting in the loss of Bangladeshi lives, Hasina’s administration has remained conspicuously inactive. The absence of any substantive response from the government underscores a glaring negligence towards protecting its citizens and securing the nation’s borders, exposing a critical lapse in governance and leadership.

The Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh have faced inadequate care under the Awami League administration, particularly in the realm of education and economic empowerment. Although schooling is provided with the permission of Prime Minister Hasina, it is taught in Burmese in anticipation of their eventual return. However, this approach is flawed as Burmese is not widely understood among the Rohingya population, who predominantly speak a non-written language. Additionally, finding teachers proficient in Burmese poses a challenge. It would be more beneficial for Rohingya students to receive education in Bengali or English, languages that offer broader communication opportunities and access to global resources. Furthermore, Hasina’s administration has been reluctant to support initiatives for Rohingya to generate their own income or engage in livelihood projects. This dependency on humanitarian aid is unsustainable, especially considering the dwindling funding for such assistance. Moreover, Bangladesh’s decision to block high-speed internet access for Rohingya refugees in 2021 further isolates them from the outside world, hindering their ability to communicate and share information about their circumstances.

In terms of efforts towards repatriation, Bangladesh’s role in diplomatic engagement has been underscored by the international community, urging Prime Minister Hasina’s administration to engage in discussions with Myanmar and international partners. However, it is apparent that Bangladesh’s actions amount to mere lip service to the Rohingya cause, as Hasina’s government maintains close ties with India, which holds an agenda against Muslim minorities across South Asia that they are unwilling to jeopardize. Additionally, Hasina’s government maintains a strict stance regarding armed conflict in Myanmar, citing adherence to international law, particularly Article 3 of the Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 1949, which prohibits direct or indirect intervention in non-international armed conflicts in other states. Despite this, Hasina proposed the establishment of safe zones for Rohingyas in Myanmar under United Nations supervision. However, this proposal has been met with skepticism and criticism, with concerns raised about its potential harm and the historical failures of UN-supervised safe zones in regions such as Bosnia, Rwanda, Sri Lanka, and Iraq.

The Rohingya crisis, a glaring testament to the collective failure of both the Awami League and the international community, has devolved into a human rights catastrophe with no effective resolution in sight. Prime Minister Hasina’s administration, by prioritizing political alliances and national image over humanitarian obligations, has perpetuated the plight of nearly a million refugees, leaving them mired in a state of vulnerability and neglect, and underscoring the urgent need for a concerted, global response to address and rectify the ongoing genocide and displacement.

A Call for True Sovereignty

PC: Indiapost. com

As Bangladesh approaches yet another Victory Day, we find ourselves grappling with a paradox. The very ideals that drove our struggle for independence—democratic governance and the right to self-determination—are being suppressed under Sheikh Hasina’s regime. The degeneration of free and fair elections stands as a stark contradiction to the principles that fueled the liberation movement in 1971. The era since Hasina’s ascendancy has been marked by an alarming trend of forced disappearances, targeting not only political opponents but also ordinary citizens who dared to voice dissent. This chilling atmosphere has effectively stifled freedom of speech, a cornerstone of any democratic society.

With the upcoming election, little change seems imminent. However, it is imperative for Bangladeshis to assert our discontent with the current state of affairs. The undue influence of India in Bangladesh’s political landscape has transformed the country into a puppet state, undermining our sovereignty. The power to choose leaders, a fundamental right of the people, appears compromised by external interventions.

The true spirit of Victory Day will only resonate when Bangladesh acts in its own best interest, free from external domination. The day when Bangladeshis can freely elect their leaders without foreign interference will mark the actualization of the dreams and sacrifices of 1971. Moving forward, it is crucial for us to reclaim their agency and ensure our voices are heard and respected. Only then can our nation experience a true victory—a victory for democracy, freedom, and independence.

 

Related:

– From Cairo To Dhaka: Exploring The Impact Of The Arab Spring On Bangladesh

– Bangladesh in Turmoil | War Crimes Protests Escalate

 

The post Over Five Decades On: Bangladesh’s Crisis Of Islam, Politics, And Justice appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Black Muslims are an integral part of our Ummah, contributing to our communities in every way. From Islamic scholarship to humanitarian workers, from voices of justice to beloved parents and aunties and uncles, Black Muslims continue to do incredible work that is often not recognized by the rest of us. This Black History Month, pick up some of these wonderful reads by Black Muslim authors and share them with your family, your friends, and your local libraries!

 KIDLIT

 – “Salat in Secret” by Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow

Salah is the very foundation of our lives as Muslims, and this gorgeously detailed picture book shares this value in an incredible way.

Muhammad receives his first real sujjaadah (prayer mat) at the age of 7, with his father’s words ringing in his ears: “Never delay salat.” But when Muhammad realizes that he has to pray at school… the challenge is a little more than he expected it to be. It is when he witnesses his father living up to his principles no matter what that he realizes what it truly means to make salat the ultimate priority.

This book is absolutely stunning in so many ways – an example of how to powerfully share the importance of salah with children.

 – “Dear Muslim Child” by Rahma Rodaah

“Dear Muslim Child” is absolutely priceless: a literal love letter to every Muslim child, filled with love, light, and tenderness.

Rahma’s words are so powerful because in just a few lines, she is able to underscore everything from loving Allah to the spiritual elements of wudhu to the importance of salah. She is able to acknowledge Muslim children’s fears of being teased and harassed, and at the same time empowers young readers to turn to Allah for strength.

 – “The Masjid Kamal Loves” by Ashley Franklin

There is nothing more captivating than pure #MuslimJoy in kidlit, and “The Masjid Kamal Loves” is one of the most wonderful examples of it!

From the friends he meets at jumu’ah, to playful splashing while doing wudhu, to the imam’s wisdom and the smiles of other believers – this book highlights the very essence of loving the masjid and its experiences. The text is simple yet sweet; it is the illustrations, with their vivid colors and incredible details, that truly bring this entire story to life. There’s even some niqabi representation at the end!

Beyond charming, this is the perfect book to use in a masjid storytime or give as an Eid gift.

 – “Room for Everyone” by Naaz Khan

“Room for Everyone” by Naaz Khan, illustrated by Merce Lopez, is laugh-out-loud hilarious. This silly, rhyming story is set in Zanzibar, and is all about having the generosity of heart to ‘make room for everyone.’

The vibrant illustrations, the wonderful rhyming, and the message all combine to make a great read-aloud favorite. What I particularly loved about it was that it features a Muslim country and culture that is rarely ever even considered! Truly, this is a wonderful example of Black Muslim joy and representation.

ADULT FICTION

 – “River Spirit” by Leila Aboulela

Leila Aboulela’s latest novel, “River Spirit,” is yet another example of brilliant, rich writing featuring characters and a setting unfamiliar to many.

The story opens in 1890s Sudan, where rumors of a man claiming to be the Mahdi turn into a revolution against Ottoman rule. Against this backdrop, we meet a wide cast of characters – most notably Akuany (later Zamzam), a village girl rescued by Yaseen, a young merchant from Khartoum who later becomes an ‘aalim from al-Azhar.

Akuany and Yaseen’s story – and the story of Sudan itself – is beautiful and painful, and we witness the many twists and unexpected turns of their journey through the eyes of many others: Musa, a fervent follower of the Mahdi; Yaseen’s mother Fatima and his wife Salha; Robert, a Scottish artist; and many others besides.

Aboulela’s writing is beyond stunning, and this unique approach to the narrative layers the book with incredible depth. History, human nature, politics, and more – Aboulela explores it all. The ending was unexpected and truly pulled at my heartstrings, and I was left with that beautiful achiness that signifies a story genuinely well-told (and a piqued curiosity to learn more about the historical events re. the Sudanese Mahdi).

 – “Bird Summons“ by Leila Aboulela

“Bird Summons” is a strange, sometimes dreamy, often heavy, and yet deeply evocative read. It is perhaps one of the most unique Muslamic fiction I’ve yet read – magical realism, with Muslim characters and deeply meaningful spiritual themes.

Readers of Aboulela’s previous books will recognize the emotional weight that her characters bear and navigate. In this book, we follow three very different Muslim women: young, beautiful, tragic Iman – widowed and divorced multiple times already; Moni the martyr-mother, clinging to her disabled son; and Salma, middle-aged and secretly resentful of her seemingly charmed life.

The three women embark on a road trip to the Scottish hinterlands, in search of Lady Zainab Evelyn Cobbold’s grave. Along the way, they must contend with one another and with themselves; the Hoopoe bird, of Qur’anic importance, appears with mysterious fables and the keys to their salvation. Aboulela’s words are simple and yet utterly powerful; she entwines the intimately spiritual and brutally human in starkly beautiful prose. Her exploration of faith, identity, and rising from personal tragedy is never comfortable and yet illuminating.

 – “Rekiya & Z“ by Muti’ah Badruddeen

“Rekiya & Z” is a story of the complicated friendship between two Nigerian Muslim women, Rekiya & Zaynunah, who come from dramatically different backgrounds but had bonded deeply at school. Now, as adults who have drifted apart, the two women find themselves pushed back together, and must unearth one another’s histories and navigate their new relationship.

The author does an incredible job of weaving together Islamic values throughout, making it relevant but not preachy – even and especially in the story arc of a “non-religious” character. She packs in so many elements: faith, niqab, polygamy, prejudice, trauma, grief, and loss.

 – “From Somalia, With Love“ by Na’ima B. Robert

Safia Dirie is a teenage girl living in East London with her mother, Hoyo, and two older brothers, Ahmed and Abdullahi. Though she was born in Somalia, she doesn’t really remember it — Safia’s a London girl, through and through. But now, after 12 long years, her father, Abo, has returned to the family from war-torn Mogadishu. Safia knew things would change, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of dealing with Abo’s cultural expectations. Or that Ahmed, her favorite brother, would start to run wild. And she herself certainly didn’t expect to find her cousin Firdous’ party-girl lifestyle so tempting.

Safia must come to terms with who she is — as a Muslim, as a teenager, as a poet, as a friend, but most of all, as a daughter to a father she’s never known. Rooted in Somali and Muslim life, this poignant and beautifully written novel about one girl’s quest to find her own place in the world strikes a chord with young readers everywhere.

ADULT NON-FICTION

 – “Servants of Allah: African Muslims Enslaved in the Americas“ by Sylviane Diouf

Dr Sylviane A. Diouf’s book “Servants of Allah: African Muslims Enslaved in the Americas” tracks the journeys and experiences of African Muslims who found themselves shipped aboard slave-trafficking vessels and taken to the other side of their known world. From their induction into the Transatlantic slave trade, to their determination to uphold the five pillars of Islam – regardless of their circumstances – to the structure of the enslaved Muslim community, their prized (and dangerous) literacy, and their never-ending resistance against slavery, Diouf illustrates in incredible detail the powerful and painful experiences of enslaved African Muslims, and the legacy that they left behind in the Americas.

(Read a more detailed review here.)

 – “Beyond Bilal“ by Mustafa Briggs

“Beyond Bilal: Black History in Islam” by Mustafa Briggs is an easy-to-read introduction to the richness of Black history as it is intertwined with Islamic history.

The book begins with a discussion on the Blackness of figures such as Luqman and Musa , and moves on to how Islam was introduced to Africa, the glorious eras of Islamic African dynasties, and finally to Islam in America. I especially enjoyed the summarized history of Islamic African empires, and the brief introduction to notable West African scholars whose names I’ve come across more recently, such as Shaykh Ibrahim Niasse and Sh Hassan Cisse. The final chapter on female African Islamic scholars was also quite powerful.

 – “Warda: My Journey from the Horn of Africa to a College Education“ by Warda Mohamed Abdulahi

This memoir about a Somali girl’s journey across the Horn of Africa to America, fulfilling her dream of getting an education, truly stands out!

Unlike so many “inspiring stories” written by people of Muslim backgrounds, filled with anger towards their cultures/ family/ Islam and adoration of the West as a savior, Warda Abdullahi’s memoir is filled with love and respect towards her family, her culture, and Islam.

She makes a point of providing historical context to her family’s story, praising her grandfather for raising her and crediting her father for his determination to get her the best education possible. Even when topics like polygamy or FGM come up, Warda never falls into blaming Islam or trashing her culture – she recognizes the horrors of FGM gravely, without comparing her culture to the West.

Most importantly, her dedication to Islamic values holds throughout: from her fasting in Ramadan despite her massive school workload and Islamic center volunteering and family responsibilities; to maintaining her hijab staunchly & refusing to touch student loans because of the riba involved. In the end, the barakah is clear: through her relentless determination and hard work, she is able to cover almost the entire cost of her college tuition through scholarships alone.

 – “Better, Not Bitter“ by Yusef Salaam

“Better, Not Bitter” by Dr. Yusef Salaam is the autobiography of one of the Exonerated Five: five young men (four of them African American, one of them Latino) – boys, at the time – who had been arrested, charged, and convicted in 1989 for raping and assaulting a white female jogger in Central Park. Decades later, the real rapist confessed, and the men were finally freed. Dr. Salaam’s book won the 2021 Muslim Bookstagram Awards for its powerful tale of seeking justice, holding onto his faith in Allah , and working through the trauma of racism and prison.

“Better, Not Bitter” stands out not just as a memoir of an injustice that epitomized America’s systemic racism, but as so much more: a glimpse of Yusef’s life before he was unjustly imprisoned; his mother’s strong, gentle guidance and unending advocacy for her son and others in dire straits; a spiritual journey of choosing not to allow one’s soul to be imprisoned even if one’s physical body is. Gratitude, self-discipline, introspection, education, and determination to “live with purpose” are recurring themes in Dr. Salaam’s book.

(Read a more detailed review here.)

 

Have you read any books on Black Muslims that you feel are worthy of a mention? Share your own favorite works by Black Muslim authors in the comments!

 

Related:

– Top 10 Books On Black Muslim History

– The MM Recap : MuslimMatters’ Most Popular Articles For Black History Month

The post From the MuslimMatters Bookshelf: Black (Muslim) History Month Reads appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

[“What Did You Just Say?“, MuslimMatters’ new column, is a space for people to respond to corporate media and its shills. Our voices are often muzzled and views on their coverage are not published. 
So, if you’ve read or watched something that made you do a double take or have shredded a publication’s piece with your critique in a Letter to the Editor or Op-ed and it wasn’t published, do send it to us for consideration via our submission form link.

All opinions are the views of the writer alone and not representative of MuslimMatters.org.]

***

Dear Ms. Julia Hartley-Brewer,

By now I’m sure that you are very familiar with the constructive feedback you’ve received regarding your disastrous interview with Palestinian MP Dr. Mustafa Barghouti early last month.

Here’s more.

Your track record as a so-called journalist is well known to be a continual stream of racism, bigotry, manipulation, and Islamophobia. This time, however, while interviewing Dr. Mustafa Bargouti on BBC and Talkradio, you really blew a fuse.

Quite frankly, speaking as an old crone, Muslim Irish American hippie, and frenemy, I must say that you proved how much of a failed feminist you are. Your choice to profile Muslim men as misogynists by using Dr. Barghouti as your scapegoat was wrong in oh so many ways.

Let me count the ways;

Your ignorance regarding Muslim women and men was a sad testament to the worn-out, stereotypical negative propaganda that has floated through the media atmosphere for years. This outdated brand of misinformation has been overused, and misconstrued, and is typical of a desperate attempt to detour from the issues at hand: the ongoing genocide of Palestinians.

Your disrespect towards Dr. Barghouti was not only publicly embarrassing but a stain on your character.

Those mistakes led you to wrong yourself even more by backing into a corner of arrogance and trumped-up victimhood, topped off with a complete lack of professionalism. You ignored so many opportunities presented during your interview with Dr. Barghouti to fearlessly embrace the Palestinian narratives he spoke of. Instead, you lost out on a golden moment to prove your worth as a respectable journalist.

Which leads me to ask; why did you choose journalism as a profession in the first place? As the world has witnessed, your performance was not that of a professional, objective journalist with an eye for the truth, but that of a hateful, ignorant sensationalist.

It’s not too late to remedy your character and lack of education, though.

Do some research. Differentiate between religious teachings vs negative cultural practices. Don’t let the thought of learning Palestinian history make your heart freeze either. Seriously, there’s no harm in reading and reading and reading to educate. And then read some more.

Volunteer. Strike out to parts unknown to you, and do something valuable, such as teaching English to refugees.

If you don’t, Julia, you’ll only be known as the woman who shamed herself in front of the entire world. What you don’t want to have on your record is your failure to communicate effectively in a fair and balanced approach to journalism.

Honestly, as a grandmother of grandchildren of multi-religious heritages, I am sick and tired of protesting this nonsense, but I have to, for their sake.

Let your freak fly. Shake loose of the fear-mongering and hate speech you have so pitifully adhered to. Go gray. Wear flats.

And then, someday, take yourself into your private adobe, turn on YouTube and watch your interview with Dr. Barghouti, again and again. Step away from yourself and analyze the journalist Julia Hartley-Brewer. Reflect. Ask yourself, why was I so angry, hostile, a bully? Is she the person I want my family to remember her by?

Julia, let me repeat, it’s not too late to start anew. Imagine that you get canned for your incompetence. Such a life-altering occurrence could very well be the highlight of your year. A new beginning.

It may be the catalyst for change you never knew you needed. Bend with the times. Embrace your twist of fate.

Take volumes of encyclopedias from the countless stories of Palestinians who currently, and for the past 75 years, have endured, patiently persevering under occupation from the brutality of the Israeli regime as examples to steadily move forward.

The narratives from Palestinians and their supporters do not belong to Western media outlets and Zionists. With Gaza and all occupied areas of Palestine undergoing genocide being openly visible through social media and professional media outlets, it is no wonder you scream on screen.

But it does no good for your Zionist cause. You have gifted us with the truth of how Israel has treated Palestinians for years. The world sees, has removed their blinders, and are mad as hell and not going to take this anymore.

Finally, I’m reminded of one of my favorite songs from the 60’s, “Turn! Turn! Turn!” by the Byrd’s, who lifted spirits during those trying times via some verses from the Bible, the book of Ecclesiastes.

As the song lyrics professed:

“To everything, turn, turn, turn

There is a season turn, turn, turn

 And a time to every purpose under Heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose

A time to rain, a time of sow

A time for love, a time for hate

A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.”

These song lyrics are a reminder of our commonalities of humanity. We are all made from the same clay [Surah Al-Hijr: 15;26] you know.

So, Julia; turn, turn, turn…

 

[Take Action: Demand The Resignation of Julia Hartley Brewer. Contact the BBC to fire Hartley-Brewer for her continued racist and Islamaphobic comments on air. Click this link to access our handy-dandy letter tool – it takes 10 seconds from start-to-finish to send a letter to the BBC.]

 

Related:

– “What Did You Just Say?”: Introducing The New MM Open Letter Series I Dear Mr. Fareed Zakaria

– The Importance Of Palestinian Stories [Interview]

 

The post “What Did You Just Say?” : The MM Open Letter Series I Dear Ms. Julia Hartley-Brewer appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

The war on Palestinians in Gaza has been referred to as a war on men, a war on women, and a war on children. The war on Palestinians in Gaza is all this and more: it is also a war on education.

Before the conflict escalated and education was unjustly restricted, Palestinians were educationally successful. In the State of Palestine, education is compulsory for those in grades 1-10 and the completion of grade 10 is required for the completion of basic education (United Nations Children’s Fund). In 2022, the completion rate for basic education was at 88 percent and the completion rate for secondary education was at 63 percent. Even with these completion rates, Palestinians have one of the highest literacy rates in the world. The Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics found that both males and females ages 15-24 in the Gaza Strip had a literacy rate of 99.4 percent in 2022. However, we are now seeing a war on education as the education in Gaza has been completely disrupted and students in Gaza have no access to education.

Scholasticide in Gaza

According to the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), even though the Palestinian population is one of the most literate in the world, “the [Palestinian] education system is in disrepair and failing, due largely to effects of the Israeli occupation [through] insufficient school infrastructure, lack of adequately trained teachers, and a lack of access to schooling in marginalized areas.”1 Over fifteen years ago, the systematic destruction by Israeli forces on centers of education was termed a “scholasticide.” They bombed the Ministry of Education, they destroyed the infrastructure of teaching, and schools across the Gaza Strip were targeted for attack by air, sea, and ground offensives (The Guardian). Now, as Israel wages a war on education, another scholasticide is occurring in Gaza.

Targeting of Gaza’s Students, Educators, and Institutions

Scholasticide (PC: Al Jazeera)

Since early November, no student in Gaza has been able to attend school as the Ministry of Education suspended the 2023-2024 school year due to the indiscriminate targeting of schools. 625,000 children have been out of school for over 100 days and Gaza’s children have lost a combined 196,918 years of education (AJ+). The Palestinian Ministry of Education attested that at least 4,327 students have been killed, over 7,800 students have been injured, 231 teachers and administrators have been killed, and over 750 teachers and administrators have been injured. The indiscriminate targeting of schools places a heavy toll on students and educators in Gaza as a result of this scholasticide. According to Scholars Against the War on Palestine (SAWP), 70 percent of Gaza’s education infrastructure has been damaged or destroyed. Israel has damaged over 350 schools and they have bombed every university in Gaza. The education institutions that remain are being used as shelters for Palestinians who have been displaced and forced to flee their homes (Save the Children). It is unlikely that schools can reopen while the Israeli forces continue to target Gaza’s students, educators, and education institutions. In addition, it will take years to rebuild the education infrastructures that were destroyed and it will take time to ensure an established education system for the people of Gaza.

Students with Disabilities

The lack of access to education is going to be particularly difficult for Palestinian students with functional disabilities and physical disabilities. The most common functional disabilities in Palestine are emotional, cognitive, and behavioral (United Nations Children’s Fund). Before the conflict escalated, four out of five children in Gaza were living with depression, fear, and grief (The Guardian) and it was estimated that more than a quarter of Gaza’s children required psychosocial support due to past trauma (UNICEF). Clearly, the impact of violence significantly impacts children and their mental health from an emotional, cognitive, and behavioral realm. The traumatic experiences the individuals in Gaza have suffered through is going to affect them in numerous ways and it will increase the number of individuals living with severe mental health conditions and functional disabilities.

Students with functional disabilities in Palestine were already limited in their access to education and the war is only going to make matters worse. In 2022, children with functional disabilities were over-represented among children who were not attending school in Palestine. While children with functional disabilities represent 15 percent of all children, they constitute 39 percent of children who are out of school at the basic level of education and 20 percent of children who are out of school at the secondary level (United Nations Children’s Fund). These numbers demonstrate that there was already a lack of access to education for students with functional disabilities, so this war on education and educational institutions is only going to worsen the lack of access to education for students with physical disabilities in Gaza.

In Palestine, the most common physical disabilities relate to walking and seeing (United Nations Children’s Fund). The recent Israeli bombardment has led to over 1,000 children losing one or more limbs (AJ+) and more than ten children a day lose a limb in Gaza. The statistics for children with functional disabilities can give an idea of what the statistics might look like for children with physical disabilities, but having a physical disability in an area like Gaza is going to make attending school exceptionally more difficult. With 70 percent of Gaza’s education infrastructure damaged, there is no guarantee that the infrastructures still standing will survive or whether they are accommodating and accessible to children with physical disabilities.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the systematic destruction of educational institutions in Gaza is undeniably a war on education. Palestinians are known to be one of the most literate people in the world and Gaza alone has a staggering literacy rate of 99.4 percent for males and females ages 15-24. The high rates of literacy in Gaza show a deep love and appreciation for education, but that love and appreciation is being hindered as Israel continues to target schools through their heinous crimes.

The war on education is more than just destroyed infrastructure that can eventually be rebuilt. The war on education specifically targets children by attacking their education institutions that were created for the purpose of providing education for thousands of children who deserve the right to learn in a safe environment. The purposeful targeting of schools and education infrastructures being destroyed limits, if not completely eliminates, the access students have to education and the resources they need to succeed academically.

Regardless of what they have endured, Palestinians in Gaza have demonstrated a long history of resistance and success within the realm of education. Education is significant to the Palestinian tradition and the Palestinian revolution, and the Palestinians in Gaza are a perfect example of this. For Palestinians everywhere, education is liberation and a right they deserve to have.

 

Related:

– 5 Steps To Grow From Passive To Active Bystanders During The Genocide Of Gaza

– MuslimKidsMatter | The Prisoner of Life Poem (Ode to Children in Gaza)

1    https://www.undp.org/sites/g/files/zskgke326/files/migration/ps/UNDP-papp-research-PHDR2015Education.pdf

The post Real Time Scholasticide: The War On Education In Gaza appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Apis cerana indica. Sonali knew that was Latin for “Indian honeybee.” “Shehed ki makhi” in Urdu. But in her own language, she called them “my best friends.”

Not that she had anything against people, of course. She thought that humans behaved like bees. Some were workers, like her, an ayah who cooked and cleaned from sunup until sundown. Other bees were queens, like the memsahib that she worked for. Then there were drones, like her husband, a man rarely found doing things inside of the house. Or, as Sonali liked to think of it, the Hive.

The Hive was her work, and their home. It was one of the many cream-colored British residences in colonial India that bathed in yellow when the sun rose. The verandas and other rooms were constructed like combs, perfectly measured and angled. Victorian, named after their queen-of-queens.

Unseen, there was venom. But some workers tried their best to make honey. Bearded repairmen would ask for a few moments to pray as their turbaned compatriots would carry out the rest of the task. After burying seeds and pulling out weeds, women washed their hands and feet together. Then they would readjust one another’s veils.

How did it look when they all went home? Sonali imagined them casting off the white for red bindis and colorful saris, the men trimming out their black mustaches and the women combing their braids.

The daydream would go further than that. They might all sprout wings and bumble atop one another just to finish their work faster. But if they could have flown away on their own wings, they wouldn’t have stayed in the Hive in the first place.

Sonali had no choice. Well, limited choice. She could have chosen the gardens instead, like so many of the other ladies. Even her husband had chosen the gardens, in order to pay for something called a “mahr.” He had insisted on it, going so far as to completely reject the dowry her family had prepared for her wedding.

“After all,” he had argued, “Sonali means ‘made of gold.’ That is dowry enough for me.”

“Chatta” was the word he had taught her next. After his duties at the Hive were fulfilled, he rushed back to their village to tend to his bees. There were crates of them. No refined hives, just simple crates that he had fastened with a lid and fitted with frames. The base was a shelf that could be drawn out, as a brood box.

Humble lodgings, like their bungalow. Later, she would learn that apis cerana indica were the easiest to keep without fancy structures. In a backyard, even. Sonali thought that there was something enchanting about it, seeing workers thrive outside of a hive. Happy. Working together.

“What’s your colony like, Dost?” she asked the queen of them one day. They all had their family name, apis cerana indica. It only made sense that they should have regular names, too. Saheli was another queen, in a different box in their backyard.

“I know you have a hierarchy. But if you have a queen, I wonder if that makes me the empress. What a thing, to be in charge of others.”

Her husband laughed. “They live in a democracy, actually.”

“What?!”

“Yes!” He placed a hand on one of the frame’s edges. Out came the threaded comb, dripping with honey and cloaked in wax. His finger pointed at the bees there. “It’s the workers that make the decisions. They look around, all around, and choose a new home for themselves. Isn’t that amazing?”

Sonali raised her eyebrows. He laughed again at her expression, which was all the more amusing as she tried to work carefully. The gloves on her own hands made her clumsier rather than confident, and her tasks took twice as long to complete. Adnan preferred to work barehanded, finding the equipment utterly suffocating in the heat. “And besides, life’s full of stings,” he had commented once, “there’s no point in trying to avoid them.”

As he closed the lid of the box, she peered into the bottom shelf. The brood box, where tiny hexagons protected larvae and showed the intimate display of workers feeding the babies.

“That will be you, insha’Allah,” he said softly.

Another word he had taught her. She had already begun to say the same prayers that he did well before their marriage, contradicting the ones her Hindu parents had taught her, but she still had much to learn. 

Rather than think of a new name for herself, the two of them decided to spend their time coming up with one for their child. His prayer became true: his wife did feed their baby, but for only a few weeks—and sadly, he didn’t live long enough to see the sight. A short while after, daughter became like father, and Sonali was left only to feed herself. Then the memsahib expected twins. 

Sonali was soon hired as their worker; nurse, nanny, and mother.

No matter what time of year it was, the family would wear glowing whites. It was all the more pronounced when the memsahib met with other queens of other hives. Sonali would try not to stare at women and their children longingly as she served them. Keeping herself busy was the cure to yearning for a queen’s life.

The three of them grew close. They began to tell her their frustrations and anxieties. One was that their mother never read to them. She thought that fairytales, especially, were silly. Here, Sonali saw an opportunity to change her own fate. Craft her own story. 

Instructions on reading began the way any children’s lessons should: as a game. She pointed to random objects and named them in Urdu. They understood, and replied in English. Sometimes, they would even start the vocabulary exchange, little sailors taking after their father’s trade.

“William,” and then, “Jacob.”

“Sonali.”

“Mother.”

“Maan.”

“Beta.”

“Son.”

In private, she began referring to them only as that—“beta.” It confused them at first, and they kept repeating their names. Then something inside of them clicked. After their mother had caught wind of the game, she, too, tried to join.

“Ayah,” she stressed to them.

“Sonali,” they both replied.

The queen lost this game over and over again. With no duties confining her to the house, or to her children, she would visit the bazaar and other memsahibs. Entertaining others became her own game.

Meanwhile, the trio soon ran out of words inside. The two boys urged her to take their exercise outside. As to be expected, their mother was hosting someone—this time, their aunt. They hardly paid her any mind.

“Honeybee!” they exclaimed as soon as they saw it.

A small hive was in plain sight, dangling from the tip of one of the garden trees. It was a wonder that it hadn’t been struck down by one of the other staff.

Softly, Sonali responded. “Shehad ki makhi.”

She tilted her head towards their mother and aunt. They protested at the suggestion,

ante-hamersmit

pouting faces making them seem baby-like in their ivory suits. She thought to make the moment into another lesson.

“Chatta.”

“Chatta, chatta!” They tried on the word like they did their clothes that morning. The two giggled, and continued.

“Hive!” William chirped.

Now, Jacob had to counter this move. He had to prove that was worthy of being read to. That he would revere the words told to him, and to offer a better word in return.

He cleared his throat. “Apiary.”

***

“Aypiehree?”

The two boys erupted in sounds of triumph as soon as she repeated the phrase, as though she had performed a magic trick. They only became quiet when she added, “Apiary stings. Come.”

Under the veranda’s shade, their mother eyed the display with feigned curiosity. The aunt, her fellow queen, was too absorbed in conversation to notice. But Sonali understood the message. She shushed the twins gently. If they were too loud, especially in front of guests, it would reflect poorly on her. Better that they were all inside while the memsahib entertained.

“I don’t know how you all have managed so long, Charlotte,” her sister said, as the three of them passed by. “I’ve only just married. And you’ve been doing this for… what has it been now, six years?”

Seven, Sonali thought, a boy’s hand in either one of her own, hardly believing her own statement. Had it truly been that long since she had been widowed? It was phenomenal, how two young boys could fill days with joy instead of grief for a grown man.

“Seven,” Charlotte said. “Though, you’re right, Gabrielle. You know, it’s getting to be a bit much. If only you’d delayed your wedding a few months!” She sighed, giving dramatic pause for effect. “I would’ve been able to attend.”

Gabrielle gaped. “You’re coming back to England?! Oh, whatever shall you do there?”

Sonali would have readily answered “Not much,” but she knew her presence was already barely tolerated around a conversation like this. The two women must have doubted how much she could understand. She thought to let them keep doubting her.

Beekeeping, she thought instead, allowing the boys to eventually gasp in the discovery their mother had laid out for them. She waited, on standby, for when they would be all waved inside.

Charlotte chose instead to wave her fan lazily instead. “Gardening is… well, you know, it’s not really the most enjoyable pastime for me… and knitting is practically useless this time of year.”

Queens always drew out their words. They were afforded the time to. English, too, was a strange language. It always required embellishments. Enjoyable. Practically. And on top of that, to enunciate the words you were using to give power to the rest of the sentence.

“And with the ayah here, I haven’t had much of an inclination towards the kitchen. Although the boys have. Their appetite grows as much as their bodies do! Isn’t that right?”

The twins answered in harmony. Sonali echoed a sigh in her mind. Beekeeping.

“And reading just takes up so much time.” Time that you have. “I used to love it back home, to lounge in the salon, but, oh, it’s such a wait for anything to arrive from home. So I’ve thought about something that might even be educational for the boys as well. Beekeeping.”

“Beekeeping?!” Charlotte exclaims.

Jinx. A word from the boys. Perhaps if Sonali had said it aloud, she would be owed something.

“Yes. Beekeeping.” The two queens sounded like bees, too, with the repetition of the word. As though they were syncing their hums. “We’ll get some lovely honey out of it. And it’ll give them something to do. The ayah takes care of pretty much everything else. I don’t want them to be completely at a loss when it comes to maintaining a home.”

Too late. Even now, they would once more need to be reminded not to drag their dirty shoes inside of the home, though even the adults were guilty of that. Sonali herself refused to wear shoes inside, even though Charlotte had always allowed her to.

“But Lottie, I do worry for your boys. What if they’re stung? As sick as they get with colds, I doubt allergies will do them any better.” Gabrielle had fallen ill as soon as she had moved here with her husband. Sonali knew, because her sister had asked to procure the finest honey for her.

“Oh, the ayah will take care of them.” Charlotte looked back at Sonali. “She always does. Don’t you?”

The twins answered “Yes!” at the same time, gazing at her with an adoration Sonali rarely saw. This caught her off-guard. Was their mother talking about the children, or the eventual bees? 

Sonali realized it did not matter. She nodded, and the queen waved them all away.

***

The queen and her drone would have their bees, and Sonali would have her work. But not until after a long journey.

For Charlotte, it was one inconvenience after another. How sick her twins were, how sick her husband got, how sick she got. Sonali spent most of her time nursing them all back to health. At first, it was overwhelming, all three of them—but decided that it was for the best. It allowed her to do her job in silence, without others hovering around her. Moreover, it kept her busy. If she had been idle for a second, she thought she might fall ill too, consumed by the anxieties of being uprooted.

The boys, when they recovered, could not be separated from her side. Unable to play on the ship as they used to in the Hive, they fervently read whatever books they’d brought. There was a wide array of new vocabulary, mostly from picture books and maps. “Suez Canal,” “Egypt,” “London.”

Thankfully, they moved on from geography. Their mother had prepared somewhat for their adventure-after-an-adventure. A book about bees was their next read. “Hierarchy.” “Worker.” “Queen.”

Charlotte made a slow recovery. Her lips pursed when she saw Sonali walking around with her twins. It bothered the ayah at first, but then she assumed that the mother would do the same if she wasn’t with them at all. 

She must miss her hive, she thought. The ship, after all, wasn’t hers to command.

But soon, all of them would be in England. What kind of life would be there waiting for her? Caretaking both sets of hives and houses, bees and boys. But not all staff from the Hive had come to join. There was no question as to why Sonali had gone with the family to England.

“Where are your parents?” William asked her.

“At home.” A simple answer to a complicated question. Marrying a Muslim was one thing. Becoming one had been another.

That didn’t satisfy Jacob at all. “That’s all right. You can have ours.”

“No, thank you.”

The boys burst into laughter. She allowed herself a smile for their sake, even though she rarely saw the memsahib’s husband enough to form an opinion of him. Then her heart sank. That meant that the boys hardly saw him, either.

After three weeks, Sonali entered the house with the apprehension that she would be the only one to uphold it. To her surprise, other workers were there, wearing black instead of white. It was as if they were observing a different kind of funeral for lives they could have had, outside this hive. 

England is colder, she thought, it makes sense that they would wear darker clothes. Sonali wondered when she would receive her new outfit, the irony being that it wouldn’t truly be hers at all.

“You’ll be tending to the apiary, ayah.” 

Charlotte’s tone was less informational and more instructional. Here, she was queen again, and Sonali was her worker.

In this new hive, the boys were quickly exhausted with their own kind of obligations. They had seven years of relatives and friends to catch up with. Often, they’d glance back at Sonali before they left the house. She was a part of their family, they’d argue. Why couldn’t she come? And the response always was, “The ayah will stay where she’s supposed to: the house.”

It was hard, at first, to be separated from the boys she had raised. From their birth, they’d been inseparable. She dressed mechanically in the beekeeping outfit they had bought for her, and returned to the hive outside. Here, she felt a little of her old home. Hands felt the familiarity of the frames, combing gloved fingers over combs. Workers of all kinds conducting their rituals. Tending to their queens. And ultimately, to their hive.

Sometimes Sonali dared a pause to look at the window behind her. The boys spent much more time inside since the move. Pouring over books, ones that their mother had assigned. Certainly not fairytales. Charlotte would hover above them, her gaze as piercing as a bee’s stinger.

Sonali talked less to the bees, then, fearing that she might be heard. But the venom remained, the same way it had in the Hive. The boys were well on their way to becoming drones, instructed on tone and speech. How to compose themselves. What to talk about to others. Their queen did the same for Sonali, too, even when there was nothing to be said. Drilling her, inquiring if this or that had been done. And if it had been done, to do it again.

Only English was allowed, as they “weren’t in India anymore.” The day came where she proposed referring to Sonali only as “ayah,” or even worse, “the ayah.”

Jacob corrected her immediately. “That isn’t her name.”

“Right! It isn’t! She told us what it meant!” William crossed his arms. “It’s quite lovely, Mother. Jacob, tell her!”

“Made of gold.”

 Sonali couldn’t find a word that described the noise that the queen made, in Urdu or English. A thinly-veiled noise of surprise, laced with a scoff.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten how smart my boys are. Two languages. Everyone else will be so jealous.” She gave them both a pat on their heads, and Sonali noted that both of them hardened against their mother’s touch. “What say you both, that we come up with a new name for Sonali? Ayah Sofia?”

“I don’t like it at all.” William remained disapproving. Jacob frowned, only looking more upset. Why, Sonali didn’t know, but she didn’t think to question it. She held on too tightly to the queen’s other phrase. Who was this “everyone else,” and why would they be jealous?

“… The boys are tired, ma’am.” Her voice sounded small, even more so in a tongue that hers didn’t speak fluently. “I will put them to bed.”

Surprisingly, the suggestion smoothed over the queen’s face. “That’ll do. They’ve a long day tomorrow.”

Jacob and William skulked. They hated bedtime, so Sonali thought to combine it with something better: storytime. She had gotten better at understanding the sentences, and the boys were so lively that sometimes she thought she could grasp what the characters were actually saying. 

That night, they told her of a woman named “Cinderella.” It was a strange name, even for one in English. “Cinder” was for the ashes, they said. “Ella” could be short for Eleanor, or a name in itself. The possibilities went on. Like their imaginations.

That’s when she chided them both for stalling their sleep. William looked disappointed, as though his plan had been foiled. Jacob seemed proud. He almost wanted to be found out, like a criminal having devised his plan so that a hero could foil it.

“Jaagori in the morning?” yawned Jacob. 

“Insha’Allah, beta.”

William groaned. “But we adore them.” 

She couldn’t help but grin, try as she might to resist. They knew that a jaagori was a lullaby told to children as they woke up. And more importantly, they knew that “insha’Allah,” wasn’t a yes–it was an implied maybe. But, if she said yes, they knew that sleep would give them something to look forward to. 

“Will you, Sonali, please?”

“Yes, please?”

She swept the hair from their eyes—it was time for them to get a haircut—and they softened. “Yes. Insha’Allah.”

They all knew to speak in whispers, especially with words like “jaagori” and “insha’Allah.” Sonali waited until their eyes had shut before going to open the door.

The queen was waiting for her.

“Ah!” she exclaimed. “Peace and quiet!” 

Sonali’s eyes twitched. The boys were trying to sleep, for God’s sake. But perhaps their mother wanted them to hear this confrontation. She pictured them pressing their heads to the wall to eavesdrop. William urging Jacob over, too much worry in his young eyes.

The memsahib smiled, the one that Sonali recognized was drenched in venom and not honey. “There’s only one night left, and I can’t wait.”

Some questions were meant for Sonali to answer. Others were not. It felt like Charlotte was a fisherman, dangling a wriggling worm. Hoping that her prey would bite the bait.

“Wait for what?”

“Boarding school.” 

The words stung harder than any insect bite. The twins—her boys—away from home, now? Leaving her alone with the queen and no one to keep her company but the bees? 

“… I will get them ready in the morning, ma’am.”

“There’s no need. You’re being dismissed.” 

Sonali gaped.

All the questions she had, now—the ones about the journey home, her pay, her livelihood, were answered in one quick, dismissive statement.

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

***

It was time to say goodbye to her boys and the bees, her best friends.

Sonali wanted to keep her promise to her boys. The queen might have dismissed her from her worldly duties in the morning, but there was one obligation for her to fulfill first.

PC: muhsin ck (unsplash)

Fajr. Her favorite prayer. When she was married, it was one of the only two that they could share together. Ẓuhr, ‘Asr, Maghrib, ‘Isha. Sleepy, yes, but also serene. Before everyone else’s voices would wake, bombarding her with orders and demands, it would just be hers reciting Allah’s Words. The most intimate conversation, gently commanded to be recited out loud, as opposed to the three silent prayers that came after. No one else could ask anything of her during this time. In a strange way, the prayer prepared her for a day of just that – being talked to.

The best part was that she could take her time with it. Ẓuhr and ʿAsr were often rushed in between her day-to-day tasks. Maghrib, too, was hasty, as she would be preparing the twins for bed. ʿIsha was slow, too, but more from exhaustion. After a night’s rest, Fajr was less like a gale and more like a breeze.

She concluded it with supplication. This too was a relief; moments of freedom with her Lord, outside of the confines of the English’s cages. There was nothing for her to hold back, or rethink.

“My Lord. I have lost everything I lived for. I can’t–” 

A sob choked her. 

“I can’t clean or cook anymore. I don’t know how I can provide for myself.”

The house was long spotless from the other maids. Instead of relief, she felt used.

“I can’t take care of these boys. I can’t take care of the bees. And I have no home. Please.” Desperate now, running out of words. “Please.”

She packed all of her belongings, left the room as tidy as she was expected to. As clean as it was, the air was stifling. Her throat was dry and her lungs begged for clean air.

The queen and drone slept peacefully as their worker flew down the hallway, tiptoes allowing her to creep down the hall and stairs. Like a fly on the wall.

The apiary outside seemed to have waited for her. It was dark, but she knew exactly where she was. She had spent so much time there, more than this new Hive, even, and for a moment, she felt like her prayers had been answered. That she was home.

“Goodbye, my friends,” she whispered.

“Quite the play you put on! More drama, more drama, I say!”

Sonali gasped. Something the size of her index finger buzzed and flitted around her, glowing like a firefly. Were they out this early? It couldn’t be. Not with all of the homes around. 

She stepped back, swatting, realizing all too late that she had forgotten her beekeeping outfit.

“Left—right—oh, so close!” The voice was high-pitched and lilting, like a bell tinkling inside of a corner shop. “Really, now! We know each other! And with how you are—so observant—you should know me!”

“… The queen?” Sonali asked.

“Close.” A laugh. “Fairies have their own queen.”

A fairy?! 

“A worker,” she said, circling Sonali in an act of inspection. It was as if she was responding to the question in Sonali’s head. “A lot like you!” 

She flew closer to Sonali’s face. The fairy was the exact picture from the twins’ books of fairytales. She looked human, but tiny, with skin the color of summer peaches. Her outfit was clearly handmade, stitched and sewn of marigold petals. Four wings sprouted from her back, not unlike a bee’s, iridescent and mesmerizing. Her eyes were pools of ink, entirely and disconcertingly black. If Sonali stared too long at the fairy’s gaze, she feared she might tumble forward and into those endless pools, drowning within them.

Cinderella had a fairy too. Sonali cleared her throat. And she had been helpful.

“… Hello, fairy. How do you do?”

“How do you do indeed! Finally, some manners.” The wings buzzed as she hovered to perch on Sonali’s outstretched hand. “But I don’t blame you. Because you’re not really you right now. We’re hardly ever ourselves when we’re sad.”

Sonali sighed.

“Alas! It’s usually a joy to be right, but not so in times of sorrow.” She rubbed her tiny palms together impishly. “But what causes it? You have a house. You have people to be with. A family to forever have fun.”

“The Hive—the bees—the boys—they are all I am.”

“Oh!” The fairy puckered her lips. It was a childish imitation of sympathy, but strangely, Sonali didn’t think it to be less sincere. “You were thrust away from your Hive!”

Sonali nodded. The fairy was more human than the queen had been.

“And you want to be a part of it again, don’t you? Ohh… Ohh… I’m so sorry—I feel the same! When the people you raised decide to make a tragedy out of your comedy…”

Comedy? I might never laugh again.

“You might never laugh again, it feels like,” the fairy continued, and Sonali was startled.  Was the fairy reading her mind? “Maybe I can help you! Outcasts have to stick together. What is your name?”

“Sonali!”

She gave her name without thinking, not remembering the ominous warnings of the fairytales she had read aloud so often, and there was another tinkling laugh – but this one filled with venom again, not honey. 

The worker realized that she had not only given her name, but handed over the key to unlock her entire being. She took a breath to protest the tricksy imp’s wickedness, but before she could so much as open her mouth, her body froze.

***

Rules had always been a part of her life. There were intricacies and customs to both of the cultures she was now familiar with. Whether it was her parents’ bungalow or an English residence, each set of humans valued certain things: timeliness, respect, and silence.

But the fey operated differently. They felt the same emotions that humans did: sadness and happiness. What they did to achieve their goals was a little more mischievous, if not always completely malicious. The fey thrived on trickery, tripping up the unsuspecting, teasing the unwitting into giving up one of their most precious possessions: their names.

To give the fey one’s name meant to give them control over one’s own body. It was a rule that the twins found imperative to impart upon her. They had been puzzled at first by her immediate comprehension, and she couldn’t bear to explain why. Jinn were similar. Adnan had warned her that they, too, could take a human form—projecting one and also puppeting one.

With no control over her body, she revisited the conversation for a clue.

A worker… Just like you…

You were kicked out!

When the people you raised decide to make a tragedy out of your comedy…

The fairy interrupted her thoughts, cackling and launching herself to the top of her charge’s hair, commanding two strings of hair as though they were the reins of a horse. The worker resisted, but it was no use.

“We’ll have to be very, very convincing,” mused the fairy. “They need to need you. So we’ll need to make a mess that you can clean! But I’m too small to make a mess. And besides… I don’t have permission to enter.”

Sonali had to admit—it felt good. To dirty up the pristine Hive, to subject the executives to janitorial work. The worker knocked over pillows from the couches. She tore some of them open, feathers flying everywhere. It was like a bird had lost its wings.

Then she darted towards the kitchen. Switched the labeled lids of the spice jars, opened cupboards and rearranged their contents. Concocting a mix of her own, silverware soup and disorderly dishes.

And the best part—at least, according to the fairy—was rearranging the supply closet. Broom pans were tucked into awkward corners, rags stuck to the very top of the shelves, liquid containers knocked over to the floor.

It was like scratching an insect bite. Pleasure at first, and then only more pain. What was she to do? She felt helpless under yet another’s control, restrained more than ever by invisible chains.

Any minute now, the queen would start marching down. The worker’s heart began pounding in her ears. It was the only part of her body that felt like it was her own. How could she be expected to stay? And even then, after the mess had been cleaned, would she be unscathed? She had faced the queen’s wrath before, but now the drone would have something to say to her as well.

Somehow, the queen and the drone continued to sleep through the noise. The worker wasn’t sure whether she should be grateful or afraid, try to resolve this, or succumb to the fey logic. They’d know she had been the perpetrator—no amount of pleading on her part would ever change that. She had already been relieved of her duties, but could there even be a worse fate than that? She wouldn’t put it past them. Her mind, still struggling with the overwhelming possibilities of what would happen next, sought to resist.

I am not your worker! she thought furiously in the fairy’s direction. 

The fairy’s voice replied to her. But I am your queen.

Hopeless. Sonali began silently reciting what few supplications of protection that she knew. Her mind filled with the prayers, and when she ran out of the ones she had memorized with her husband, she began with supplications of her own. It was a repetition of that morning, the same things she had asked for while sitting on her prayer mat. The word finally came to her, what she had intended to ask for all along: freedom.

“Sonali?”

The boys, still in their pajamas, were in the hallway. Their ayah’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her hands were frozen. One held a pot, with a pan in the other, threatening to strike.

“What are you doing?” William asked.

“She’s making a mess, obviously,” Jacob said. “She’s trying to stay.”

She tried to shake her head, but the fairy held her still. Instead, she darted her eyes to the top of her head. A silent cry for help.

William sniffed, looking around him. “She wouldn’t do this, though, Jacob.”

“No. No, she wouldn’t.”

“Are we in a dream?”

Jacob reached over to pinch his brother. “There’s your answer.”

“I’ll give you an answer!”

The boys grabbed at each other. Jacob shoved William’s shoulder, and William yanked at his hair. 

The fairy cackled. Catching sight of the little fey perched on Sonali’s head, the boys grinned mischievously. Sonali felt a grin of her own creep onto her face. They understood! Of course they would, how could she ever doubt them? It was their fitrah, their nature as children, to always believe in the innocence of others. To not subscribe to the prejudice that the adults had.

“Get her the honey, William!” 

“No, Jacob!” William took his brother by the hand and leapt in front of their ayah, remembering the lessons of their bedtime fairytales. “Say her name! We have to take her name back from the fairy! Show her that it doesn’t belong to only her—it’s ours too! Everyone who meets her, knows her, loves her!”

Jacob gasped and followed suit.

“Sonali!” they cried a second time, in unison, as though they were part of the same hivemind. She felt her limbs release. Just in time, she kept her grip steady on the handles of the pot and pan. She joined them for the third time, as all of them understood, now, that delightful things happened in threes.

“Sonali!”

“Aww.” The fairy emerged from the tresses of hair, as though she were a bride trying to get out of her wedding dress. Then she stamped her foot on Sonali’s head. “You stole it!”

“They can’t steal what isn’t theirs.” Sonali’s voice was raspy, but it belonged to her again. “And neither can you. My name is Sonali. I am no one’s worker now. I have no queen.”

“Can’t I stay longer?” the fairy begged. “Neither of us have a place to go. And you all still have a mess to clean. I can help!”

Jacob fervently shook his head. “She’s made of gold, not marigold. And she’s our family.”

“Not you!” William said.

The fairy pouted once more. With a sly look at the boys, Sonali captured her with the pot and pan. They darted to the back window and released her, as though she were nothing but a troublesome insect.

***

The fairy was right about one thing: there was still a horrid mess. The boys urged her to leave before their parents could see the mess, insisted that they would cover it up for her as a tantrum on their part. But Sonali knew better. They couldn’t reach the high shelves, nor did they know where everything went. And she would still be blamed for it, anyway. 

“I have nowhere to be, now,” she said, separating forks and knives.

“That’s not true!” William hushed her as he stuffed feathers back into pillows. “We found a place in the phonebook.”

Jacob’s face flushed, and he nearly knocked off one of the replaced pillowcases back on his brother. “It’s called Ayah’s Home.”

The name struck her immediately. What they told her seemed like just a fable. There were other Indian ayahs, like her, abandoned by their English employers. It was expected that the Home would be full towards the end of the summer, but come autumn, she might have employment with another family here, or on a return voyage back.

It still seemed too good to be true. As she continued to tidy, it almost felt like nothing had happened. There were hardly any traces of the fairy left. Maybe it had been a dream, as William supposed earlier.

“This feels like magic,” Jacob said in wonder. 

“Oh!” William tugged at her dress. “What’s ‘magic,’ Sonali?”

It took her a few seconds to understand—he wasn’t expecting a description, rather, a translation. “Jaadoo. But this, this is not magic. This is barakah.” They didn’t ask for an explanation, and she didn’t have the time to give one.

The two boys were just as cunning with the queen and drone as they were with the fairy. They told their parents that they had awoken early and sent their ayah away with instructions themselves. Technically, they had. A map. Directions. But also, the additional allowance their parents had given them for the train.

Sonali met them inside one of the train’s carriages, and they ran into her arms.  She wondered if she should tell them that she was considered their mother too, at least according to her tradition. But with the way they held her, perhaps, they already knew.

“We promise to write to you.” Jacob’s eyes welled with tears, while William already sniffed a leaking nose.

She smiled. “I can’t promise that.”

Jacob was shocked, but William laughed. “Because she can’t write yet!”

“Oh.” Relief washed over him. “Maybe someone else can! Just tell them what you want to say, and they’ll write it for you. Can you do that?”

“Insha’Allah, beta.”

Ayah’s Home wasn’t a Hive, but it felt like one at first. The structure was modest, not like the residence. It was brown, more like a tree, and occupied by far fewer people. However, it was the people that mattered: Muslims and Hindus both, from all over her country. They all welcomed her, sympathy in their eyes, understanding of the situation. Cooking the same foods and speaking the same language. Some were seasoned sailors, well experienced in the journey from England to India. Others were Madrassi ayahs, like their governess counterparts, as sophisticated as queens. All abandoned but found again, in a Home instead of a Hive.

“It’s the workers that make the decisions. They look around, all around, and choose a new home for themselves. Isn’t that amazing?”

***

We miss home. We miss India, Jacob wrote to her. We keep saying that we’re homesick, but Mother doesn’t believe us. Just like she didn’t believe us when she said we wanted to read stories.

William’s handwriting continued on the rest of the page. Sonali can imagine them bucking their shoulders together, vying for a place on the paper. Some words were recognizable, others were not. She tried to read the words as they were told to her.

Yes! She says that she was homesick in India, for England. But doesn’t she know that it can be the other way around? She doesn’t understand. But we think you do. It feels like seasickness, but different. Worse, even.

We feel as though our family has been torn apart. We miss our ayah and our mother. 

Do you miss us? How is the Home? You must not have too many lessons. But if you do, we hope that they are fun.

Sonali, there is another word we want to know. Joy. But not just the word. We want to know its definition. And how we can feel it again.

Sincerely, 

Jacob and William

 

The letter ended. Immediately, Sonali urged the other ayah to write on her behalf. She spoke to her in Urdu and prayed that the English would capture it all.

Dear Jacob and William,

I remember when you showed me the dictionary for the first time. The entries were like this: Joy, noun. And there were more words after. If I could be a dictionary, I would say this: “Joy, noun. Can be found, or made. But not defined.”

My parents taught me how to tend to a home, to find comfort in cooking and cleaning. My husband, may Allah have mercy on him, taught me to look after bees for happiness. And then I looked after you boys, made you smile. All these things, I did because I thought I had learned how to do them, and I knew nothing else. But I realized I continued to do them because I loved them. They all brought me joy.

To feel joy again, you must do what it is that you love. It may be that someone else introduces you to it, or that you find it on your own. But what matters is that you do it as often as you can. 

My advice: You both tell wonderful stories. I would love to read them. Not just on my own. But to the new children I will be taking care of this fall.

May you feel joy.

The other ayah paused in her transcription. She sniffed, looking at the paper for any mistakes. The bindi in the center of her forehead relaxed as the crease in her brows released. It reminded Sonali of her mother. Then, with a smile, the other ayah rotated the letter on the table and pushed it towards Sonali. She stared at it blankly.

“You want me to read it? I can’t—not much English.”

“No, beti, sign it. It’s your letter.”

Sonali swallowed. The last time she had signed something was in her marriage contract. It seemed as though it were another promising document, the beginning of a new chapter, a roadmap to newfound joy.

سونالي

Sonali

 

Related:

– Asha and the Washerwoman’s Baby: A Short Story

– Niqabi In A Chocolate Shop: A Niqab Story

The post The Apiary – A Short Story appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

She didn’t give up. She didn’t give in. Her strength saw her through the most trying and challenging time of her life. Despite fear of taunts, accusations, fear of reprisals, and oppression, God saw her through and she delivered her baby alone, onerously, in Bethlehem. She birthed Jesus ; one of the greatest Prophets to walk this earth, who lived in and around Jerusalem and was lifted to the Heavens from the sacred land.

Mary (also Maryam, Mariam, and Meryem) is considered by Islam to be one of the preeminent women to have ever lived and is the only woman mentioned by name in the Qur’an. In fact, there are more references to Mary in the Qur’an than there are in the canonical Gospels.

Mary was the answer to a supplication made by the wife of the Imam of al Quds, Jerusalem (’Imran), Hannah. According to Muhammad bin Ishaq (may God grant him mercy), the famous Prophetic biographer, Hannah could not have children, but one day she saw a bird feeding its chick and she asked God the Sublime & Exalted for a child. When she became pregnant, she vowed that she would raise her child to concentrate on worshiping God the Almighty and serving the Blessed Masjid Al-Aqsa in Jerusalem. [Tafsir ibn Kathir]

“[Mention, O Prophet] when the wife of ’Imran said, “My Lord, indeed I have pledged to You what is in my womb, consecrated [for Your service], so accept this from me…”’ [Surah Ali’Imran:3; 35]

“This is Mary, the mother of Jesus. Mary spent a great deal of time in secluded worship, in the eastern part” [Surah Maryam, 19:16] of the Blessed Masjid Al-Aqsa.

She is from the region of Shaam, a land that stretches from Syria to Palestine, traditionally known as the blessed lands where each prophet of God had traversed its precincts. Her resilience, strength, courage, and God-given ability are characteristic of those brave, endearing souls in the region today. Mary was a sincere believer, a Muslim, in the true sense of the word: someone who submits herself wholly and is dedicated to One God. 

“This is Mary, Mother of Jesus.”

God the Almighty describes Mary’s labor in detail, in this way honoring women and their journeys to motherhood.

“So she conceived him, and went into seclusion with him to a remote place.”

“And the birth pangs, the pains of childbirth, brought her to the trunk of the palm tree (that she may support herself against it). She said, ‘O that I would have died before this and been something gone, forgotten.'”

“Then he [either Jesus in her womb or the angel Gabriel] called her from beneath her: ‘Grieve not. Your Lord has placed a stream beneath you.'”

“‘And shake the trunk of the palm tree towards yourself, and it will drop upon you ripe fresh dates.'”

“‘So eat, drink, and be content. Then if you see any human being, say (to him), “I have vowed a fast (of silence) for The Rahman (All-Merciful), and therefore, I shall never speak to any human today.'” [Surah Maryam;19:22-26]

“O that I would have died before this and been something gone, forgotten.” Mary’s human frailty peeks through as she seems to question her strength to go through the test of birthing a son as a virgin. It’s as if God is showing us that even she, one of the best of creation, felt desperation and anguish at the height of her test. What would her people say? Would they believe her? What would they do to her, her son, her family? Would they dishonor her late father, ‘Imran, and her pure, chaste mother, Hannah? In her pain, both physical and emotional, she wished for oblivion – to be completely forgotten. However, God the Most Wise gave her the opposite. She is far from forgotten – in fact, she is one of the most famous, elevated, and celebrated personalities in the history of humankind. With these fears overwhelming her, and God is the knower of the hearts, fully aware of all subtleties and that which is hidden, He. the Sublime & Exalted assured her, comforted her, strengthened her “Drink from the stream, shake the palm tree..” 

It is as if God the Sublime was saying to Mary : You can do it. I am with you. Be strong. You got this, you are shaping a nation. I am going to use you to uplift a people, to fortify them, to accept them as My people.

When we face challenges and feel like we’ve reached our limit and can’t go on, know that God the Exalted is with us and His assistance may be in front of us. It may not come in the time we hoped for, nor in the manner we expected, but it will come when we put our trust in Him, and it will be in the way He wills.

Unwavering Conviction

Mary’s story exemplifies the proverb that the darkest part of the night comes just before the break of dawn. She reached such an emotional low that she wished for oblivion, yet her conviction and trust in God never wavered and she was taken from rock bottom to ascending, spiritual heights. In our own trials, we must realize that the difficulties we face will come to an end one day. Everything created, including problems we face,  is temporal and transient. God’s eternal Knowledge, Mercy, and Wisdom are eternal. Placing our unwavering trust and conviction in Him, as Mary did, will be that shining beacon to see us through our most challenging times.

Mary may be most famously known for her virgin birth, a sign for all who reflect, because it is a reminder of God the Almighty’s incomparable Power. Nothing is difficult for Him – He only has to say ‘Be!’ and whatever He intends to create will be created. Knowing that God the Almighty is Capable of anything helps us when we are experiencing something that reminds us of our own powerlessness and helplessness. In our own lives, these trying circumstances come in a myriad of forms; from the trial of recalcitrant children, a distracted spouse, to toxic relationships, it may seem we stand against the world without anyone to understand or assist us. However, in these most difficult of situations, if we can draw from Lady Mary’s feeling of anguish to her Divine fortification, we can then realize that God the Almighty has always, and will always, be with us. He knows our innermost states and He is the One that can transform even the most dire of situations in the blink of an eye. He is always with us, He is always aware and wanting us to draw near to Him.

This nearness is exemplified in the words of the Hadith Qudsi,

It was narrated from Abu Dharr that: the Messenger of Allah (saas) said: “Allah, the Blessed and Exalted, said: ‘Whoever does one good deed will have (the reward of) ten like it and more, and whoever does a bad deed will have one like it, or I will forgive him. Whoever draws near to Me a hand span, I draw near to him an arm’s length; whoever comes to Me a forearm’s length, I draw near him an arm’s length; whoever comes to Me walking, I come to him in a hurry. Whoever meets Me with an earthful of sins, but does not associate anything in worship with Me, I will meet it (i.e., his sins) with forgiveness equal to that.'” [Sahih Muslim 2687]

This knowledge and awareness that God the Almighty desires us to draw near, and is waiting with His Divine love and assistance, strengthens our trust and surrender to Him. 

In the following verses, Lady Mary   births Jesus and God the Almighty exonerates her through the second miracle of Jesus speaking just hours after his birth.

“Then she came to her people carrying him (the baby). They said, ‘O Maryam you have come out with something grave indeed.'”

“‘O sister of Harun, neither your father was a man of evil nor was your mother unchaste.'”

“So she pointed towards him (the baby). They said, ‘How shall we speak to someone who is yet a child in the cradle?'”

“Spoke he (the baby), ‘Verily I am the servant of Allah. He has given me the Book and made me a prophet,'”

“‘and He has made me a blessed one wherever I be, and has enjoined prayer and charity upon me as long as I am alive,'”

“‘and (He has made me) dutiful to my mother, and he did not make me a wretched tyrant.'”

“‘And peace is upon me the day I was born, the day I shall die, and the day I shall be raised alive again.'” [Surah Maryam; 19:27-33]

The story of Jesus’s alayhis] creation reminds us that God the Almighty is truly Capable of anything, however impossible it may seem to us. We need only to examine and learn from the lesson of Mary and take from the strength of her conviction and trust in God.

She is a woman of al-Quds, Jerusalem. In Islam, she is one of the most perfect humans in all history and one of the leading dignitaries in Heaven. Ibn Abbas reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “The best of women among the people of Paradise are Khadija bint Khuwaylid, Fatimah bint Muhammad, Maryam bint ‘Imran, and ‘Asiyah bint Muzahim, the wife of Pharaoh.” [Musnad Ahmad]

One common thread between these extraordinary women of our tradition is that they all embodied utmost modesty, humility, conviction, and internal strength that saw them through the darkness of their personal trials to the light of Divine Pleasure and ultimate success. By drawing on their lasting examples and taking them as our guides, our lives can be truly transformed with our mundane acts being counted amongst the sacred.

Furthermore, Lady Mary’s rank is such that she was visited and addressed by the Angel Jibril himself:

“’O Mary! Surely Allah has selected you, purified you, and chosen you over all women of the world’.” [Surah ‘Ali ‘Imran; 3:42]

She is our role model. And, to me, she represents the God-given power, internal strength, and resilient nature of all birthing women, and is the embodiment of strength, courage, and fortitude of all people today living in the sacred precincts of al Quds. 

[Listen to Shaykha Shamira’s lecture “The Quds Through The Lens of Lady Maryam & Prophet Jesus .”]

 

Related:

– Lessons From Surah Maryam: 1

– Muslim Women’s History: A Book List

 

 

The post Taking Lessons from The Strength of Maryam, Mother of Jesus appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Every single one of us is in need of the mercy and forgiveness of Allah ﷻ. All of us are guilty of some sort of mistake, sin, poor choice, shortcoming, or act of disobedience. We all have our own personal faults, shortcomings, and weaknesses. The pull of the world, the dunya, temptations, desires, and wants, is extremely powerful. The struggle is real. The Prophet ﷺ told us,

“Every single son of Adam is a profuse wrongdoer. And the best of profuse wrongdoers are those who repent frequently.”1

Meaning, not only do we as human beings sin, but we sin a lot. We sin publicly and privately, knowingly and unknowingly, big and small.

The Importance of Seeking Forgiveness

Although we may not realize it, these sins have a direct impact upon our hearts. The Messenger of Allah ﷻ said,

‏“‏ إِنَّ الْعَبْدَ إِذَا أَخْطَأَ خَطِيئَةً نُكِتَتْ فِي قَلْبِهِ نُكْتَةٌ سَوْدَاءُ فَإِذَا هُوَ نَزَعَ وَاسْتَغْفَرَ وَتَابَ سُقِلَ قَلْبُهُ وَإِنْ عَادَ زِيدَ فِيهَا حَتَّى تَعْلُوَ قَلْبَهُ وَهُوَ الرَّانُ الَّذِي ذَكَرَ اللَّهُ ‏:‏ ‏(‏ كلاَّ بَلْ رَانَ عَلَى قُلُوبِهِمْ مَا كَانُوا يَكْسِبُونَ ‏)‏ ‏”

“Verily, when the slave (of Allah ) commits a sin, a black spot appears on his heart. When he refrains from it, seeks forgiveness and repents, his heart is polished clean. But if he returns, it increases until it covers his entire heart. And that is the ‘Rān’ which Allah mentioned: ‘Nay, but on their hearts is the Rān which they used to earn.’”2

The Prophet ﷺ himself, the one who is free from sin, would seek forgiveness from Allah ﷻ seventy times a day. According to another narration he would do so 100 times a day. He ﷺ did so to show us the importance of constantly turning back to Allah ﷻ and asking Him for forgiveness. The Prophet ﷺ said,

“Glad tidings for the one who finds abundant istighfār in his record of deeds.”3

طُوبَى لِمَنْ وَجَدَ فِي صَحِيفَتِهِ اسْتِغْفَارًا كَثِيرًا ‏”‏ ‏.‏

Sayyid al-Istighfār

The Prophet ﷺ taught us a very beautiful, powerful, and profound way of seeking forgiveness knows as Sayyid al-Istighfār. From Shaddād ibn Aws who said that the Prophet ﷺ said, “The greatest invocation for seeking forgiveness is that a servant says:

اللهم أنت ربي، لا إله إلا أنت، خلقتني و أنا عبدك، و أنا على عهدك و وعدك ما استطعت، أعوذ بك من شر ما صنعت، أبوء لك بنعمتك علي، و أبوء لك بذنبي، فاغفر لي، فإنه لا يغفر الذنوب إلا أنت.

“O Allah, You are my Lord! None has the right to be worshipped but you. You created me and I am Your slave, and I am faithful to my covenant and my promise (to You) as much as I can. I seek refuge with You from all the evil I have done. I acknowledge before You all the blessings You have bestowed upon me, and I confess to You all my sins. So I entreat You to forgive my sins, for nobody can forgive sins except You.”

‏”‏ وَمَنْ قَالَهَا مِنَ النَّهَارِ مُوقِنًا بِهَا، فَمَاتَ مِنْ يَوْمِهِ قَبْلَ أَنْ يُمْسِيَ، فَهُوَ مِنْ أَهْلِ الْجَنَّةِ، وَمَنْ قَالَهَا مِنَ اللَّيْلِ وَهْوَ مُوقِنٌ بِهَا، فَمَاتَ قَبْلَ أَنْ يُصْبِحَ، فَهْوَ مِنْ أَهْلِ الْجَنَّةِ ‏”‏‏.‏

The Prophet ﷺ said, “Whoever says this during the day with firm faith in it and dies on the same day before the evening, he will be from the people of Paradise. And whoever recites it at night with firm faith in it and dies before the morning, he will be from the people of Paradise.”4

The Prophet ﷺ termed this particular duʿā Sayyid al-Istighfār because it is the absolute best and most comprehensive way of asking Allah ﷻ to forgive our sins. Through these words, we are reconfirming our commitment to Allah ﷻ, acknowledging His Lordship over us, humbling ourselves before Allah ﷻ, expressing gratitude for the blessings He has given us, apologizing for our shortcomings, and asking Him for forgiveness. And the Prophet ﷺ is telling us that if we say this duʿā in the morning and happen to pass away, we will be from the people of Paradise. If we recite this duʿā in the evening and happen to pass away, we will be from the people of Paradise.

This is a duʿā that all of us should memorize and make part of our daily morning and evening routine. And most importantly, this is a duʿā whose meaning we should understand at a deeper level.

We start this beautiful supplication by first calling out to Allah ﷻ, acknowledging that He is our Rabb. “O Allah, You are my Lord!” The word “Rabb” is usually translated as Lord. However, this translation doesn’t do this word justice. Lord sounds very strange and archaic; it is associated with kings, knights, and folklore. Al-Rabb means the Master, the Owner, the One Who arranges all matters, the Nurturer, the Sustainer, and the One Who takes care of His subjects. Allah ﷻ is the owner of this entire universe and everything it contains. That means He owns us and we are His slaves and servants. As our Owner, He ﷻ cares for us, ensures our growth, maintenance, well-being, and looks after all of our affairs. He ﷺ alone is the One who looks after us and takes care of us throughout all of our difficulties and hardships. Allah ﷻ is our Rabb, the One Who created us, nurtures us, teaches us, cares for us, and the One we can turn to in any situation for help, aid, support, and assistance. We open this duʿā with this very profound recognition and acknowledgement; that I have a Lord I can always turn to and rely upon. “O Allah, You are my Lord!”

“There is no deity except You.” There’s absolutely no one and nothing worthy and deserving of worship, submission, devotion, and obedience except for You. Allah ﷻ and Allah alone is worthy and deserving of our worship, submission, devotion, and obedience.

“You created me and I am Your slave.” We then remind ourselves that Allah ﷻ alone is the One Who created us and brought us into this world. He is that One who brought us into existence from non-existence; the One Who shaped and fashioned us in the most perfect, balanced, and beautiful way possible giving us the ability to listen, see, feel, smell, speak, and think. He alone is the Creator and Originator of this entire universe and every single thing it contains. We also remind ourselves that we are His slaves. We remind ourselves that we have been created only to worship Him. We and everything we own belongs to Allah and Allah alone and we are subject to His rules, instruction, guidance, commands, and prohibitions. This is a profound declaration of our relationship with Allah ; affirming that He is our Lord and Creator and that we are His slaves and servants.

“And I am faithful to my covenant and my promise (to You) as much as I can.” With this statement, we are reminding ourselves of our covenant with Allah and our promise to Him. As soon as we say the shahādah, we have entered into a covenant – an agreement – with Allah ﷻ to live our lives according to His divine guidance and rules. It is a promise to try our best to fulfill our responsibilities towards Him and others through obeying His commands and staying away from His prohibitions. But we realize that we are weak, that we have weaknesses, shortcomings, and faults. That is why we say that we are going to be truthful and faithful to our promise to the best of our abilities.

And because we will definitely make mistakes we say, “I seek refuge with You from all the evil I have done.” We are asking Allah ﷻ to protect us and save us from the consequences of all the evil we have done. To provide us safety, shelter, and refuge from the harms and negative consequences of sins and acts of disobedience.

“I acknowledge before You all the blessings You have bestowed upon me…” We are being taught how to express gratitude to Allah ﷻ. We recognize and acknowledge that every single blessing we have is from Allah ﷻ. Our īmān, health, wealth, well-being, families, children, careers, the ability to pray and worship, everything is from Allah ﷻ and Allah alone. We are reminding ourselves to be grateful to Allah ﷻ morning and evening.

“…And I confess to You all my sins.” We are humbling ourselves before Allah ﷻ confessing to all of our sins – big and small, public and private, known and unknown, intentional and unintentional. The first step to earning forgiveness from Allah ﷻ is recognizing and acknowledging our sins.

We then conclude this beautiful and powerful duʿā by asking Allah ﷻ to forgive us. “So I entreat You to forgive my sins, for nobody can forgive sins except You.” That is why this duʿā is called Sayyid al-Istighfār; the leader of seeking forgiveness. Reciting this duʿā with faith and conviction morning and evening is a ticket to Paradise.

 

Related:

I Don’t Know If Allah Will Forgive Me

Small Deeds, Massive Rewards : Have All Your Sins Forgiven

1    Tirmidhī, k. ṣifah al-qiyāmah wa al-riqāq wa al-warʿ ʿan rasūlillah, 24992    Tirmidhī, k. tafsīr al-Quran ʿan rasūlillah, 33343    https://www.ahadithexplained.com/hadith-glad-tidings-in-book-of-deeds-due-to-forgiveness/#:~:text=%D8%B7%D9%8F%D9%88%D9%92%D8%A8%D9%B0%D9%89%20%D9%84%D9%90%D9%85%D9%8E%D9%86%20%D9%88%D9%91%D9%8E%D8%AC%D9%8E%D8%AF%D9%8E%20%D9%81%D9%90%D9%8A%D9%92%20%D8%B5%D9%8E%D8%AD%D9%90%D9%8A%D9%92%D9%81%D9%8E%D8%AA%D9%90%D9%87%D9%90%20%D8%A7%D8%B3%D9%92%D8%AA%D9%90%D8%BA%D9%92%D9%81%D9%8E%D8%A7%D8%B1%D9%8B%D8%A7%20%D9%83%D9%8E%D8%AB%D9%90%D9%8A%D9%92%D8%B1%D9%8B%D8%A7%20%E2%80%9CGlad,this%20is%20an%20authentic%20hadith%20from%20Ibn%20Maaja.4    https://sunnah.com/bukhari:6306

The post From The Chaplain’s Desk: Sayyid Al-Istighfar – The Greatest Dua For Seeking Forgiveness appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Little face in the rubble! 

If you could speak

From your midget-coffin, 

If your sweet voice could carry through

Your little mouth-

Cavernous and hollowed out by death,

Encrusted with old blood, 

Stopped in its tracks between pearly new teeth

That once shone when your face blossomed into smiles;

Or enlivened with laughter

Over some little silliness, some little surprise-

 

Those little things, before scary big things took over-

Big feuds between little people

Unable to see the faces in the rubble-

Blinded, insensate… 

 

 If you could speak

From beneath the settling dust of oblivion

Falling, falling quietly over hearts-

 

You’d speak of

When the sky flared up with fires-

Malevolent and blind- as they rained Death,

Leaving a trail of bloodied corpses

And shell-shocked mourners.

And often, battered little bodies-

Timorous and traumatized-

Confounded by unanswered questions.

 

You’d speak of

The desperate, endless waiting

For a healing hand-

Perhaps your mother’s keffiyeh to cling on to;

Her warm breath to reassure

“It’ll be all right”…

But the breath was cold,

The hand lifeless and brittle.

 

You’d speak of

The stinging, deep pain

Of a disconsolate helplessness,

And the terrifying abyss of cruel questions

Hulking all around you,

Pressing upon your battered self,

Confounding your infantile senses.

 

You’d speak of

How Death took so long to reach

As you writhed in your own blood… 

 

Yet when She reached, Her touch strangely familiar

In its maternal, Messianic embrace, 

As it spread its gentle wing

Soaring above and beyond

Where pain cannot reach-

Onward and upward, 

To ‘The Home of Peace’ 

That you were promised… 

 

If you could speak-

Your voice would resound… 

“If only my people knew…” [The Noble Quran; Surah Yasin – 36:26] 

 

If you could speak-

The Verdict would ring loud-

An eternal, scathing indictment

Writ large into the very heart

Of the eternal universe… 

“Yaa hasrat an al all ibaad” (Alas for mankind!) [The Noble Quran; Surah Yasin – 36:30] 

 

If you could speak-

The layered silences

Over the tiny mound of earth

That shrouds you

Would be ripped through

By the still, small voice…

 

Piercing, shattering, tearing, shuddering…

To ask of us

An overwhelming question-

‘For what crime was I slain? [The Noble Quran; Surah At-Takwir – 81:9]

 

Related:

– Standing With Palestine: A Poem

– 6 Quranic Reflections On The Current Situation In Palestine

The post If You Could Speak : A Poem appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Bismillah.

MuslimMatters is excited to announce the appointment of our new Executive Director, Br. Siraaj Muhammad.

Siraaj has served as a MuslimMatters volunteer and writer since 2008, served as COO from 2010-2012, Ops Director in 2019, and up until today was serving as Interim Executive Director since 2021.

In addition to his wealth of institutional knowledge, Siraaj’s career as a technology professional has allowed him to overhaul and redesign the MuslimMatters site, focusing on presenting content, site speed and SEO, while making it easier for writers to access and use the site, which has led to more content production.

Siraaj also designed a successful online fundraising campaign for MuslimMatters which has allowed us to flourish in the last few years, drive more traffic to our site, hire additional writers and re-engage readers while attracting new ones.

In addition to the accomplishments above, Siraaj launched a brand new podcast, assisted the editorial team in streamlining processes that drove focus on the core mission of the organization, hire new writers, and deliver more content than previous years.

MuslimMatters continues to be one of the leaders of Islamic content on the internet and we couldn’t be more proud to have Br. Siraaj Muhammad leading the organization as Executive Director.

Please make dua for Br. Siraaj, his family, and the entire MuslimMatters staff and volunteers who work day in and day out to create meaningful, high quality content to benefit the ummah.

Sincerely,

MuslimMatters.org Board of Directors

Related: 

Podcast : Bringing The Heat | The MM Tell-All Episode

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This year has been a difficult time for us all- watching the events in Palestine has been heartbreaking and demoralizing. However, the Muslim Bookstagram Awards continued in the hopes that through the work of talented Muslim literary creators, and the support of readers and community, Muslim voices will be uplifted, supported, and empowered.

And with that, we announce the winners of the 2023 Muslim Bookstagram Awards!

Best Toddler Book

Little Umar’s Search is a super cute board book following Umar as he looks for his older brother – and finds his family members all engaged in different acts of worship. This sturdy life-the-flaps book will be a favourite with toddlers!

Best Picture Book

Salat in Secret

Muhammad receives his first real sujjaadah (prayer mat) at the age of 7, with his father’s words ringing in his ears: “Never delay salat.” But when Muhammad realizes that he has to pray at school… the challenge is a little more than he expected it to be. It is when he witnesses his father living up to his principles no matter what that he realizes what it truly means to make salat the ultimate priority.

Best Chapter Book

Meet the Maliks: Ramadan Mayhem

Maysa and Musa Malik are twins and troublemakers – well, it’s actually just Maysa who is the troublemaker. Maysa desperately wants to go to a camp and to do that she has to prove that she is mature to her parents. So Maysa tries to be better, but she just has a knack for Mayhem. When the Ramadan cookies are stolen, it’s Maysa who figures out the solution, and learns on the way that gossiping is wrong.

Best Middle Grade Book

Huda F Cares?

“Huda F Cares” is the latest chronicles of @yesimhotinthis – this time, following Huda and her family to Disney World.

Between Huda’s fears that her family stands out a little too much, Umm Huda’s nefarious plot to force some sisterly bonding, and the awkwardness of praying in public, this graphic novel lives up to its laugh-out-loud predecessors.

Best YA/ Adult Fiction

Much Ado about Nada

Loosely inspired by Jane Austen’s “Persuasion,” Much Ado About Nada is more a lighthearted rom-com with an unexpected twist on the genre of second-chance love. Nada Syed is going on 30, struggling with her start-up business idea – and coming face-to-face with a figure from her past. Will Nada’s heart be in danger as it was many years ago, or does she have a second chance at love?

Best Illustrations

The Masjid Kamal Loves

From the friends Kamal meets at Jumu’ah, to playful splashing while doing wudhu, to the imam’s wisdom and the smiles of other believers – this book highlights the very essence of loving the masjid and its experiences. This book is a beautiful example of Muslim joy.

Best Holiday Book

H

Made from the Same Dough

Papa isn’t a Muslim, but he’ll be spending Ramadan with his grandson, Rayan, and his family. Rayan worries his grandfather won’t fit in and might even do something embarrassing. When Papa suggests bringing cookies made from his favorite Christmas recipe, Rayan panics. How will Rayan handle the challenge of having his Christian grandfather at his Ramadan gathering? Can he and Papa find common ground and respect each other’s traditions?

Best Non-Fiction

Letters From A Prophet

Many years ago, across distant lands and faraway empires, a series of letters were sent to some of the most powerful men on earth. These were no ordinary letters, however- they were from none other than the Last Prophet of God and the message they contained was one for all time. This unique book goes into detail about the special letters of da’wah that RasulAllah (SallAllahu alayhi wa sallam) sent to four major rulers of his time: Emperor Heraclius, Al-Muqawqis, King Chosroes, and an-Najaashi. More than just providing the letters, however, this book goes into depth about the context of each letter, the letters’ recipients and their reactions, and relevant lessons for us to glean from each incident.

Judges’ Choice Award

Ramadan Nights by Jenny Divleli hits all the right notes in evoking Ramadan vibes!

From home-made decorations to sighting the moon, the joy of praying taraweeh and being woken by a Ramadan drummer for suhoor, this lovely book will fill readers hearts with true Ramadan joy. Simple scenes of reciting Qur’an, struggling with hunger, sharing with others and gratitude for Allah’s blessings all encapsulate the beauty of Ramadan in a way that will connect with young children and create memories to drawn upon for years to come.

Bookseller Legacy

Specially chosen by our sponsor, Noura of CrescentMoon Bookstore, “Migo & Ali: Love for the Prophets” is an enduring bestseller, and for good reason!

This delightful hardback book contains vibrantly illustrated stories of the prophets, from Adam (as) to Muhammad (saw). These stories are concise, and told in engaging, child-friendly language. A delightful question and answer session after each story is also unique in its style, depicted as a conversation between the two lovable characters.

[DON’T FORGET! SPECIAL COUPON CODE: Use the coupon code “MBR” for 15% off all products ordered from Crescent Moon Bookstore!]

As always, we are incredibly grateful for the support of all the Muslim authors, illustrators, publishers, and of course, the readers who make it all worth it. We pray that Allah blesses all everyone who has contributed to the Muslim literary scene and makes their efforts a source of reward in this world and the Next, ameen!

Related:

The Muslim Bookstagram Awards 2023: Meet The Finalists!

The Muslim Bookstagram Awards : Announcing The 2022 Winners!

The post The Muslim Bookstagram Awards : The 2023 Winners! appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

I’m going to open this article by sharing two stories that highlight the power and effectiveness of duʿā.

Abū Hurairah narrates that he would frequently invite his mother to accept Islam, and she would always refuse. One day, he was encouraging her to accept the truth and she responded with some hurtful speech regarding the Prophet ﷺ. She rebuked her son and insulted the Prophet ﷺ. This pained Abū Hurairah as he was a man with a very soft and tender heart. He came to the Prophet ﷺ crying and said, “O Messenger of Allah! I would invite my mother to Islam and she would reject it. I invited her again today and she said some things regarding you that I disliked. Supplicate to Allah ﷻ to guide Abū Hurairah’s mother.” The Prophet ﷺ raised his hands and said, “O Allah, guide Abū Hurairah’s mother!” 

He left happy with the Prophet’s supplication and returned to his mother’s home. When his mother heard him approaching the door she asked for him to wait outside as she was bathing. As soon as she finished, she opened the door and said, “O Abū Hurairah! I bear witness that there’s no one worthy of worship except Allah and I bear witness the Muḥammad is the Messenger of Allah!” This brought indescribable joy to Abū Hurairah’s heart and he went back to the Prophet ﷺ. This time he came to him with tears of joy and told him what happened. He said, “Rejoice O Messenger of Allah, for Allah ﷻ has accepted your duʿā. He has guided Abū Hurairah’s mother to Islam. He also said, “O Messenger of Allah! Supplicate to Allah to make my mother and I beloved to the believing men and women.” The Prophet ﷺ said, “O Allah! Make this servant of yours and his mother beloved to every believing man and woman.” As a result, Abū Hurairah would say, “No believing man or woman hears of me except that they love me.” [Sahih Muslim 2491]

That is the amazing and transformative power of duʿā. It has the ability to make the seemingly impossible possible. Through the duʿā of the Prophet ﷺ, Abū Huraira’s mother’s heart was opened and she surrendered to Allah ﷻ. This is a woman who just a few moments before had refused to accept Islam and insulted the Prophet ﷺ.

The second story is from Anas .

He narrates that once while the Prophet ﷺ was delivering a khuṭbah, a man entered the masjid, interrupted the Prophet ﷺ, and said, “O Messenger of Allah! Our wealth has perished and the roads have been cut off. Supplicate to Allah to send us rain.”

يَا رَسُولَ اللَّهِ هَلَكَتِ الأَمْوَالُ وَانْقَطَعَتِ السُّبُلُ، فَادْعُ اللَّهَ يُغِيثُنَا

The Messenger of Allah ﷻ raised his hands and said, “O Allah send us rain! O Allah send us rain! O Allah send us rain!” Anas said, “By Allah, when he raised his hands there were no clouds in the sky.” Then all of a sudden, a cloud appeared in the middle of the sky, spread, and it started to rain. “By Allah, we didn’t see the sun for a week.” [Agreed upon]

That is the power of duʿā. It has the ability to make the seemingly impossible possible. Within a moment it can change circumstances, situations, and conditions.

Supplication [PC: Imad Alassiry (unsplash)]

Duʿā, supplication, calling upon Allah ﷻ, is one of the absolute most powerful and amazing tools that we have as believers. The Prophet ﷺ said, “Duʿā is the weapon of the believer.” Just as a weapon is used for protection and defense in a physical sense, duʿā (prayer) is seen as a spiritual and emotional weapon that we as believers can use to seek help, guidance, and strength from Allah ﷻ. This saying underscores the belief that turning to Allah ﷻ in prayer is a source of comfort, solace, and empowerment for us, especially in times of difficulty, hardship, or when facing challenges. It encourages us to have faith in the efficacy of our supplications and the divine support that can be obtained through sincere prayer.

Duʿā is a direct line of communication between a believer and their Lord and Creator. It is considered to be the essence or epitome of worship. The Prophet ﷺ said, “Duʿā is the essence of worship.” When we raise our hands in supplication to Allah ﷻ it shows that we recognize the reality of our relationship with Him. We recognize that we are His servants and that He is our Lord and Creator. We acknowledge and admit that we don’t have the power, ability, or capability to do anything without the help and assistance of Allah ﷻ. When we supplicate to Allah ﷻ, we are affirming all of His divine names and attributes. We are affirming that He ﷻ is our Lord, Creator, Sustainer, Provider, Nourisher, the All-Hearing, the All-Seeing, and the All-Knowing. When we engage in duʿā we are affirming that Allah ﷻ is in charge of this entire universe and everything it contains; that He alone is the King of all kings.

By supplicating to Allah ﷻ we are fulfilling our obligation of calling upon Him. And the beautiful thing is that when we call upon Him, He answers. Allah ﷻ says,

“And your Lord says call upon me and I will respond to you.” [Surah Ghafir: 40;60]

In this verse, Allah ﷻ Himself is instructing us to call upon Him. Allah ﷻ is instructing us to worship Him and make duʿā. And then He ﷻ gives us a promise that He will respond. Similarly, in Sūrah al-Baqarah Allah ﷻ says,

“[Prophet], if My servants ask you about Me, I am near. I respond to those who call Me, so let them respond to Me, and believe in Me, so that they may be guided.” [Surah Baqarah: 2;186]

This verse is very significant in helping us nurture, develop, and cultivate a stronger relationship with Allah ﷻ. Oftentimes, we may think of Allah ﷻ as being very distant or far. Because we can’t see Allah ﷻ in the life of this world, we may feel that He is distant, or God-forbid absent from our daily life and affairs. But Allah ﷻ tells us that He is near; He is close. An aspect of that proximity is that He answers our prayers.

“I respond to those who call Me…” Again, Allah ﷻ gives us a guarantee that He will respond to our calls when we call upon Him. But here, Allah ﷻ makes His acceptance of our supplications conditional. “So let them respond to Me, and believe in Me, so that they may be guided.” Allah ﷻ is telling us that if we want Him to respond to our call, we have to respond to His. Allah’s call is found in the Quran; it is living our lives according to the guidance of the Quran and following the practical example of the Prophet ﷺ. If we want our prayers to be accepted, we have to try our best to follow the instructions, guidance, commands, and prohibitions of Allah ﷻ and His Messenger ﷺ.

When a person frequently calls upon Allah ﷻ it shows that they have firm faith and a strong relationship with their Lord and Creator. Allah ﷻ promises that He will respond to His servants if they call upon Him seeking His help, assistance, and guidance. 

However, from experience, we know that we don’t always get what we ask for. A common question people ask is “Why are my prayers not being answered?” The Prophet ﷺ provides a response to this question in the following ḥadīth.

Abū Hurairah narrates that the Prophet ﷺ said, “There is not a man who calls upon Allah with a supplication, except that he is answered. Either it shall be granted to him in the world, or reserved for him in the Hereafter, or his sins shall be expiated for it according to the extent that he supplicated – as long as he does not supplicate for some sin, or for the severing of the ties of kinship, and he does not become hasty.” The companions said: “O Messenger of Allah, and how would he be hasty?” He ﷻ said: “He says: ‘I called upon my Lord, but He did not answer me.’”

We cannot and should not underestimate the power of supplication. It is one of the most important things we can continue to do for our brothers and sisters in Gaza. Oftentimes our word choice and rhetoric are reflective of our beliefs and inner feelings. When we hear people speaking about supplicating for our brothers and sisters they make it seem like a cop-out or something insignificant. Oftentimes we hear people saying, “The least we can do is make duʿā for them.” That is not the least we can do. Duʿā is one of the most important things we can do to help our brothers and sisters who are experiencing ethnic cleansing and genocide. It is one of the most powerful tools and weapons we have in our arsenal.

May Allah ﷻ grant the people of Gaza continued strength, patience, perseverance, tawakkul, and victory. May He ﷻ remove the injustice and oppression from their lives and bring an end to the brutal occupation. May Allah ﷻ liberate al-Aqṣā. From the river to the sea Palestine will be free!

 

Related:

– 5 Steps To Grow From Passive To Active Bystanders During The Genocide Of Gaza

– Why Our Prayers for Gaza May Not Be Answered

The post From The Chaplain’s Desk: The Power Of Dua appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.