DONGE GRAND IFTAR 2017

Photos Courtesy: www.msa.co.ke / (#KiparaPhotography)

Martin Luther King Jr once said, “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, ‘What are you doing for others?'” » Perhaps we really underestimate the power of coming together, of empathy and humanity, of love and kindness but let's take a minute to be the ones on the other end receiving all the love and pure energy from all kinds of people. Try to imagine the bliss and the peace.

You being the one in a rocky hospital bed fighting for your life. You being the one who slept hungry for the past two days. You being the one who was robbed off your rights. You who couldn't sleep because of a huge debt to be paid. And then someone and someone else and someone else, from different parts of the world come together and just decide, 'let us relieve from him this burden'. Imagine the weight being lifted off your shoulders, the worries in your heart and the endless thoughts in your mind. This is what Mombasa Toa Donge lako is doing for so many people from years back.Indeed, when it comes to humanity, no deed is considered small.

Yesterday was my first time to attend the annual Iftar event usually held by the community group for orphans of different areas and my second time to attend any of their events. So basically, i'm not an active member but I've been spectator for long enough to know that this community group is doing a HUGE MEGA difference in people's lives. Maybe they didn't do it to you or your next door neighbour but they've held grand projects that have turned around the lives of some people. Let's give credit where it is due; this community group is doing a much better job at the welfare of the society more than our leaders combined.

So I was just seated at the front rows silently as the program started and we heard the anasheeds from different kids, then a short quiz and then came the most moving part of the live testimonies from people who've been aided by the Donge group. You know, I just was watching Erray's parents talk of their gone son and the great support offered to them both financially and emotionally and I just had mixed emotions. I see his mother cry when she talks of his son and his orphaned daughter and then I imagine how much more tears would she have shed if they never had a chance to even try out medication, or pay for his medication, or how they would start adjusting their lives to give a good life to Erray's daughter without help. None of us can ever imagine. Several other people gave their testimonies and I was a bit overwhelmed seeing how successful the projects were. Trust me, it's different when you see it online and when you actually see these people live like you really know them. When I saw baby Rahima and her mother I was immediately like, "Ah! I remember this cute face!" And it is just so nice to see these people with smiles on their faces, healthy and back on their feet. That, that right there is something we should never undervalue; the ability to put a smile back on someone's face is a tremendous job.

The orphans that attended were 200 from 3 different institutions; both boys and girls and they were all too curious about the whole event. One of the caretakers of one institution was telling me, "This is the first time we have been taken to such a trip so they were really excited. We had to come half of us because we couldn't all fit in the car." When it was time for iftar, I saw some of the kids barely touching the snack container, another one was trying to peel off the egg layer from the katlesi. A friend of mine seated next to me asks them why they aren't eating, the caretaker says, 'hatujazoea hivi vyakula vya waarabu' (We are not used to this Arab kind of foods. So the container basically had Potatoes, bhajia, kebabs, katlesi, tea/coffee, dates and mitai and I could see them scrutinize the food, dissecting them like it's a biology experiment.

"What do they usually eat?" I ask.

"Ugali mostly with vegetables. Sometimes rice. Sometimes Chapati. Sometimes we have people bringing pilau for us. But you know Arabic food like this, when we leave here that's the end of it...Look at their hands," she holds one arm to show me, "see all these dark spots, it's because of mosquitoes. We sleep at a school on the floor with too worn-out mattresses. Sometimes we get people who remember us. Sometimes we don't. But life moves on."

"Were the kids excited about coming here?"

"Of course they were...they won't comment here but I know when we get back home they will all be having too much to say." (In case someone is interested in visiting their institution; 'Vision of Hope' the lady is Zeitun Mwaka, her number is 0711 415 626 or her colleague Najma Mwanasiti: 0707 343 444) Yet I am sure there are many more orphans out there who are totally oblivious to what good delicacies look like or a good bed feels like. They are out there and they need us to go to them.

It was just a great feeling seating with them, eating next to them, praying beside them, seeing them rejoice eating biriani and other platters of food. Hearing them sing alongside brother Nassir as he sings his nasheeds; just too heartfelt.

I remember the excited looks of the children as they were given ice cream after the meal and it was in that merry moment, I noticed a young girl who went and gave a group of orphans some packets of chauro and I looked at how everyone was scrambling to get a packet and I say, 'if only we appreciated these tiny blessings that we tend to overlook.'

Oh! and before I forget, I did get feedback from one of the orphans. As I was leaving some teenage age was happily telling her friends, "Nnashiba alhamdulilah! Mungu awabariki Donge" (I am full alhamdulilah. God bless Donge) by the way, the girls didn't know I was listening so this was definitely genuine feedback. Imagine the rewards of making 200 orphans (and several other people) happy plus, in Ramadhan!!

I know the Donge staff, admins, volunteers, members and active members hear this a lot,but we just want to say it again. Thank you for being role models of kindness and humanity in the community. Thank you for being a symbol of hope to others. Thank you for your dedication and sacrifice. For your endless effort and patience to ensure projects are successful. For changing people's lives and for restoring our faith in humanity. May Allah bless all those who attended, all those who made it possible, all those who participated directly or indirectly, all those whose hearts were in the event despite their absence. May the spirit of togetherness shine on for generations to come, may our intentions remain pure in helping people and may we be the hope in such a dark world. Ameen.

I just want to end it with this hadith, "Ibn `Umar (May Allah be pleased with them) reported: The Messenger of Allah (sa) said: “A Muslim is a brother of (another) Muslim, he neither wrongs him nor does hand him over to one who does him wrong. If anyone fulfills his brother’s needs, Allah will fulfill his needs; if one relieves a Muslim of his troubles, Allah will relieve his troubles on the Day of Resurrection…” [Bukhari and Muslim]. Keep doing good, keep being good, every small and large deed counts in Allah's eyes.

WHAT DOES RAMADHAN MEAN TO YOU? #2

By: Zale Navi

Photo Courtesy: https://www.alquranclasses.com/

Do you remember your first Ramadhan? I am talking about those days when fasting to you was for mum and dad’s sake. That is to say; if mum or dad and of course the "reporter" sibling in the family did not see you break the fast, your fast is still valid. You can deny it and I can, but Allah saw you every time you drunk half the water meant for rinsing your mouth while taking wudhu. But of course it was not a big deal, we were young and the thought of staying the whole day without food or water to drink either seemed torturous or mission impossible. I remember thinking to myself that even the adults sneak a sip or two of water when no one is watching because there is no way anyone can stay that long without water. At the age of 7 to 10 years Ramadhan to me was to be able to convince the people around me that I have stayed the whole day with neither food nor water.

Imam Siraj Wahaj puts it nicely when he says, Islam means progress. Right now I can look back at those years and see the progress in my Ramadhan. Maybe the adults around me understood it too and that is why they did not punish me when I broke my fast two hours to Magharib adhan (too dumb, I know that now). I was on training and it was okay to slip here and there, my relation with Ramadhan was still being nurtured. However, I never cease to enjoy the holy month. Apart from the hunger and thirst torture, there was the joy of having the extended family meeting up almost every day and excessive playing with friends (no wonder the unbearable thirst). Having the masjids full during all the swalahs, cooking the best foods and being able to witness the amount of blessings increase in the month. Till date, Ramadhan at my home is known as the month of barkah; not because we were taught so but because we saw the blessings. And then there was the ultimate joy that was Eid. So, in a nutshell, Ramadhan to most of us at that young age was torture from hunger and thirst, good food, friends and family.

When you do something wrong and you know it is wrong but no one reprimands you for it and they all act like it was okay for you to do what you have done, your conscious kills you. Or at least that's what happens to me. At the age of 11-12 years, during Ramadhan all I could think about is that I got to do better. I have to see to it that I stay true to my fasting. It was a real struggle, reminding myself when it got hard that I can do it, I can stay the whole day with no water. Accomplishing this would make me happier than ever during the time of breaking fast and whenever I failed the enthusiasm of breaking the fast was lost all together. Ramadhan to me then was to be able to stay with no food or water the whole day; and it was enough.

Whenever I speak about Sheikh Khalifa, some people look at me with that eye of “oh she is at it again”. The truth is that given a chance to speak about my high school, I would not shut up. I love my high school. Not because it is the best high school in the Coastal province, though it is a bonus, but because of the role it played in building me as a young Muslimah. It was there that I also learnt that finishing the recitation of the whole Qur'an was highly recommended during Ramadhan. I still remember how people would struggle to finish the Qur’an at least twice while I would be struggling with my one khatm. I admit, I would be disappointed when I could not meet my one khatm goal, knowing that most of my friends had two khatms and others even three. All the Ramadhans in Sheikh Khalifa, my goal was that one khatm. I think I realized it once though I’m not so sure.

One of my biggest dream is to speak Arabic. I once told my friend that the day I would be able to speak Arabic fluently, I would not stop talking. He said that is the reason why I have not learnt Arabic till now. I am sure he is wrong. Being outside sheikh Khalifa my thirst for Arabic became intense; not just so as to be able to speak but I really wanted to understand the message in the Qur’an. My recitation was fluent but apart from a few surahs, I didn't understand most of it's message. So I asked one of the local ustadh to teach me Arabic at the same time I found myself a mushaf with the translation. And if you thought finishing a khatm was hard try doing it with the translation. Truth be told, I'm yet to accomplish it and I am disturbed by it. Still I was glad that I not only got to recite the qur’an fluently but I could also understand what it was saying to me.

Every Ramadhan has been different to me with different meanings. I have studied specific surahs, I have used Ramadhan to quit some sins. I have done memorizations of specific surahs, supplications and hadith. I have struggled to make each Ramadhan mean something to me. And it all comes back to; Islam means progress. I have seen my progress in my meaning of this beloved Holy month, and if Allah enables me to see more Ramadhans, I pray that I find more meaning to it.

Now as a 25 year old lady I ask myself what does Ramadhan mean to me and my mind goes back to the verses of the Qur’an that I memorized a long time ago due to how much they would be repeated during this month;

“O you who have believed, decreed upon you is fasting as it was decreed upon those before you that you may become righteous” (2:183)

In them I get my answer. This month was meant for me to attain Taqwa. To build the strongest bond possible with my creator and as Umar ibn Abdul Aziz (Rahimatullah) said ;

“Taqwa is not praying long into the night and fasting long into the day but it is to abandon the obstacles between you and Allah (SWT).”

In other words, it is to abandon sin.

Ramadhan was meant for me to have that ultimate connection with the Qur’an. Not only by finishing multiple khatms or memorization but to be able to gain the guidance that Allah talks about when he says;

“Ramadhan is the (month) in which the Qur’an was sent down, as a guide to mankind and a clear guidance and judgement” (2:185)

So yes, Ramadhan is meant for sharing, showing love and compassion to each and every one of us, for the ummah to be united more than ever, but at an individual level, What does Ramadhan mean to you?

RAMADHAN MUBARAK. WA KULLU 3AMUN WA ANTUM BI KHEYR

WHAT DOES RAMADHAN MEAN TO YOU? #1

Photo Courtesy: http://www.khilafah.com

People who know me very well know two truths about me. One is that food and I don't get along. Truth number two, food and I can't really stay apart. We tend to have this love-hate relationship that never ends. You know, like Tom and Jerry? So most of the times it would roll out like this.

Me: "Aarghh, I'm starviingg" or "Yeepyyy can't wait to have my delicious food!"

Two minutes into eating: "Really food? Really? All that joy, excitement, tears, anticipation and blood sacrifice yet this is all you offer?!! You and I are soo done!"

Also me: (every two hours) "I need you food :( " (There should have been the kermit meme image over here lol)

So automatically, truth number three is that fasting is my hardest ibadah.

Just the other day (4th of Ramadhan) I was walking in town headed home from work with a tiny flower between my fingers. So I was swirling it playfully, my mind so far deep in thoughts it took me time to realize there was an elderly man looking at me right ahead. He was in his traditional Swahili clothing of kikoi, shirt and kofia and he was looking into my face with such scrunity. I thought perhaps he is mistaking me for someone else so I went ahead and said the salam.

"Saumu inkushika?" He said, still giving me a concerned look. I just laughed it off and went on walking but I could still hear his voice behind me, "Saumu inkushika eh?! Nakuona...nakuona vile inkushika" *Face palm* I know right? And I just happen to be this frequent victim of having awkward embarrassing moments with strangers. But that's a story for another day. Back to fasting...

Due to how much fasting drains me, at work and even at home, I always get comments like, "Can you walk? Lest you fall on the way."

"Can you do this? Can you carry this?"

So every Ramadhan I'm subconsciously fully prepared to such teasing. Yet Ramadhan is still the best time for me.

You know, you walk around and see Muslims and you can greet each other, smile with that look like, 'We know each other's 'suffering' (not per say, but you know what I mean :p ) or like we are one people, we are partners in crime, something of the sort. The Ramadhan ambiance is special and it does feel so. Food stalls all over the streets during the evenings, people sending the kids to take a plate of goodies to the other neighbour and the other neighbour takes to the other and when known to be an awful cook, your food just seems to go in circles; forever trying to get a 'mstiri'. Taraweh, tahajjud...the list is endless.

It's that time where our mango trees produce in abundance. My mum would fill the bucket with mangoes and ask my brother to take to our neighbours. I would hear my dad get excited, reminding my brother of which neighbours to NOT miss. I would be standing there half-thrilled half-sorry that I am not the one to do that. You know, introvert problems? Mum would ensure to spice it up; 'Ukigonga kila mlango, give them the mangoes then say Ramadhan kareem' :D My brother puts on his kofia and sets out to knock doors. Then with a sigh and a smile, "I wish all year was Ramadhan."

Muslims walking around just before Maghrib, sharing dates and water to fellow Muslims on the way. Some stranger passing dates to you to the back seat of a public vehicle so you can break your fast. I mean, any other random day we would probably pass by one another and I would mumble salaam and I wouldn't even get a response or perhaps you'd mumble back or vice versa. But then Ramadhan, we have something making all of us familiar to one another such that we can strike random conversations with strangers on the way.

I am super delighted of how humanity is at its peak. We remember the orphans, the old, the sick...we remember to pray, to be more gentle, to read qur'an a lot, to hold back our insults, to donate, to forgive and most importantly, work on ourselves.

For me, besides it being the time for more Ibadah, Ramadhan is a time for me to work on my inner self. Get the peace of mind. Submit totally to Allah. And this is something many take for granted; our inner health. How composed are we to life? How much at peace are we with our fate? How much do we actually and sincerely talk to Allah? This is the time. It is my time to unleash my heart to Allah. It is my time to be a better human being not just for this month but for the rest of the year.

And as much as fasting is hard for me, Ramadhan has meant progress for me. I remember a time I would really admire people who could fast Monday and Thursday, Ayamil bayth or sitta min shawwal simply because I couldn't do it. But then with every coming of Ramadhan, I tried more sunnah fasts and I keep trying over and over again. My biggest push has always been the thought that 'If this is hard for me, then the rewards will definitely be more' and that remains my motto as I keep trying.

Ramadhan means a lot of things to me; it means kindness, love and compassion. It means submission, forgiveness and willpower. It means struggle, endurance and success. Ramadhan means a lot to me. What about you? What does it mean to you??

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On another not

e, my partner and I are embarking on another business journey, the branding of strokes of my pen. So alhamdulilah we have the first bunch of shirts out. We kindly ask for your support. Besides that, 10% of each shirt goes to Ahmad, a young boy who is undergoing kidney dialysis treatment yet he has a large outstanding balance at Pandya hospital to pay. If not the shirt then you can always mpesa their family directly (no. shown in image).Remember your reward is multiplied in this month so don't hesitate to support in any little way in shaa Allah.

For the shirts, they come in colours of black, white, blue, grey and yellow. For more info: contact us via this no: 0734 201 665 or view our page: https://www.facebook.com/simplex.styles/. More is to come biidhnillah!

P.S. Please remember me in your duas! Whatever you pray for me, may you get the same just that a thousand more times. Ameen! Ramadhan Mubarak!

MADRASA; BAKERY OF DISCIPLINE

Photo Courtesy: https://s22.postimg.org

Warning: This is going to be a long one ;)

Everyone can agree that Madrasas make up almost the biggest part of our great childhood memories or perhaps the worst. This is where we got shaped and molded into the characters we are today. How we were shaped however, is a different story. They say, the end justifies the means... or does it? If anything, Madrasas are the best example of this phrase.

Back down the memory lane, most families had neglected the Madrasas. Secular education was given the priority giving minimal time for the children to adopt Madrasa teachings. This in turn made the children consider Madrasa as ‘not-so-serious’ a place. It was like the damp spot where parents would take them on weekends so that they don’t bother people back home.

If you ask anyone about their Madrasa days they’ll mention a lot of punishments where students were subjected to individually or as a group. First mistake would always be ‘getting late’ because hey! It’s weekend! The entire family is going for a wedding somewhere and you spent an entire hour crying why you are being left behind while they’ll be enjoying some good biryani with roasted chicken. So you get to the gate, eyes red and swollen and you find a whole group standing aside while the assembly is going on. You become a bit relieved that you are not alone. However, once the assembly is over and the teacher on duty confronts you, he surprises you all by checking the uniform instead or whether your nails are clipped. So you end up with double punishment. But it never ends there does it? You somehow end up in the noisemakers list in class and the ustadh gives you ‘THAT look’ of ‘Too many mistakes in one morning young boy’!

There was always a lot of fun associated with all the mischief which involved incomplete assignments and ending up doing the assignment at the corridor, making fun of other students or rhythmic and loud reading during classes; which more often than not irritated the teachers, a lot of skiving where one or a collective group would go out for lunch break and decide not to come back because you decided that your family will not go for that wedding without you, a lot of ‘tell your parent to come tomorrow’ because let's face it the teachers were having up to their necks dealing with stubborn kids.

Coming back to class late was a norm because you got caught up in the games you were playing or were waiting in line for your potatoes and other snacks to be prepared; and so when you reach the class you know what's waiting inside so you all stand by the door deciding who was bold enough to ask for permission to get in. Then there were those days we’d be sent home because we had applied henna on Eid day despite it being against madrasa rules or for the lack of payment of fees on time…yeah the list is endless!

In attempt to change the ‘relaxed-mode’ children had on madrasa, the teachers always opted to cane the naughty children, especially with the famous kikoto (A local type of cane commonly made in Coastal region by use of Reeds.)

When it came to the need for students to learn, caning only brought fear into them making them memorize things they don’t understand in the least bit. My mother tells me of how when they were young, they’d go to madrasa sit in straight lines and start singing what they’ve been taught, swinging themselves frontward and backward. How they’d put small pieces of kashatas between the mashaf pages then come back and start eating them piece by piece while the ustadh is not looking. They’d then quickly go back to chorusing with the rest, turning their oily mashaf pages. It seemed all merry when the whole class was chorusing like that…but now many years later, she confesses that then, she, and many others did not even know what they were saying. The caning only prompted them to cram something so that whenever the teacher asks a question, they had an answer. Nonetheless, the caning was fruitful when it came to hifdhul qur’an (memorization of the holy qur’an).

So basically, punishments differed on 3 factors: The teacher himself, the personality of the student and the kind of mistake done.

We all had some experience with the ‘bad news’ ustadh who you’d carefully avoid on the way even if you’ve done nothing wrong. He is always ready to cane; always ready to strike; always armed with his kikoto. Yet others would go for other less violent kind of punishments like making the students kneel, making them stand the whole session, pinching, sweeping, squatting, washing the washrooms, cleaning corridors, extra assignments, calling of the parent or being detained from going to tea/lunch break.

This however also differed according to the child in question. For some children just the mere mention of ‘I’ll cane you’ is enough to scare them and make them do the right thing. They’d weep like no one’s business if you even jokingly mention that you’ll summon the parent. Yet another child is so used to the canning that it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s routine now and thus, doesn’t mould them in anyway. Sometimes, it even made the students become more rebellious and beating them was as useless as screaming on their faces. But this same naughty child if detained from going to have lunch, he tends to settle down. A lazy child would detest being given extra assignment and that would be the perfect punishment for him/her.

When it comes to collective mistake i.e. the whole class making noise, or late comers, the teacher would ask them to sweep the classroom or wash the loos for the older students. For some children, telling them to go out of the class as punishment acts as the best thing for them. It turns out to be ‘free-class-to-have-fun’ oh yeah, and to make more mischief. So the child’s personal character always factored in the kind of punishment.

How the child/children are punished depended on the kind of mistake too. For a mistake like late-coming, the punishment would be lesser than the ones who got into a fight. Or noise-makers compared to the ones skiving classes.

The teachers would always use the small punishment methods and only when things really escalated is when the parent is summoned.

It’s no secret that Madrasa punishment is better than school (before the anti-punishment law came in). Yet still, there were/are parents who still go to complain once their children are canned or in the least, touched at all. The parents would sometimes respond to complaints from the Madrasa by transferring their child to another institution which ends up making the child always half-baked with information and sometimes in character too.

We all have experienced or at least witnessed the dramatic parents who are always so protective and just at the slightest caning of their child, they’d appear at the institution and start shouting to whoever they can throw words to, threatening to report to the police if their children are canned again yet they are in the first place responsible for the negligence the children have on Madrasa. If the parents showed the children how important Madrasa is, the mischief would be less and they’d be more serious on Madrasa education.

Punishment systems have changed over the years. This could be because the teachers realized that they are using the wrong approach in the desperate need of making students prioritize Madrasa studies. Nowadays, there is less caning. We can’t say it has stopped completely but teachers are more and more adopting the alternative punishment systems like giving them extra assignments or sweeping classes and corridors amongst other methods. Different Madrasas have also tried different ways to make Madrasa more interesting for children i.e. including extra-curricular activities and trips too. They also involve the parents a lot more than before on the issues of their children.

The best move Madrasa systems have taken, however, is ensuring that their teachers undergo teachers’ training before stepping into class. This is unlike before whereby anyone with the knowledge could teach regardless of whether they knew how to handle the mentality of children or not. Some Madrasas would let the older kids teach the younger ones just because they had a little more knowledge than the little ones, or the smarter kids would teach the other kids when a teacher was not around. So now we have better teachers who have studied psychology of the children and are able to deal with them in the right way.

The punishments have been the better evil for many of us. Apart from the notorious students whom we’d tell ‘haskii la mwadhini wala mteka maji mskitini’ to, many owe their good discipline to the Madrasa teachers who ensured they behave. Many of us wouldn’t even know how to recite Surat Fatiha if not for the canning. The punishments done in Madrasa have mostly been moderate apart from a few cases and they seem necessary in order to straighten the children up.

Apart from that, we got the many memories from these days; the days we did mistakes and cried even before the teacher raised the cane, or the days we knelt down until our knees ached, or when we were late and were sent back home; half happy half miserable, or those days when someone stole and we’d have soot applied on his face (someone mentioned this and couldn’t help but imagine and laugh). As much as we as a community have undermined the Madrasa for so long, we have to admit that we learnt good lessons and became better people from what we learnt back then.

I know some really hate the memories they have of back then or of the entire madrasa system, and some would enthusiastically want to debate this whole punishment issue, nonetheless, I guess at the end of the day it is only each one of us who can judge and perceive those days as they will. Everyone is entitled to their opinion after all.

In my opinion, there is improvement and gradual process in the Madrasa systems which hopefully will make more students serious on the deen education which has been comprised for so long. As for the punishments (the moderate reasonable ones that is), I hope they still stay in the system until the later generations. In the current dark world, we need a system that will still humble us and mold us to be better individuals.

MY OTHER HALF (Part 2)

Read part 1 at: http://strokesofmypen.blogspot.co.ke/2015/02/my-other-half.html

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

It's been exactly...wait, lemme count...from February 10th, 2015 to date; 11th of May 2017, how many days are those? 1,2,3...Ah too bad I am terrible with math. Anyway, it's been all those many days since I first wrote to you. Ages right? I knowww! I almost forgot you 'somehow exist'. Lol, i'm kidding. *silly grin* I've mostly been pursuing my dreams; both the daydreams and the literal ones :D But I've been planning to get back to you..and *drums rolling* here I am!

There's just been something in my mind lately and I thought of talking it to you. By the way, talking to you almost seems like monologue or like me talking to the wall or some ghost in the room because your existence at the moment is delusional but we can always talk about that when you become a reality right? in shaa Allah ;)

So back to our topic, oh wait, speech alert: This is going to be a long monologue :p

A friend of mine posted this a few days ago:

{"The thing about hitting rock bottom is that the only way to go is up." I'm having a slight problem with this statement. Okay yeah sure maybe, but what if rock bottom is as wide as the Sahara and before you go up you're gonna spend a heck of a long time moving sideways? Some people hit rock bottom, and stay rock bottom, and move sideways for the rest of their lives. How miserable.} Those are the ramblings of an insomniac and well what do you expect from an insomniac than a critical out-of-the-world thinking?! But then ever since I came across this, I've been thinking about it a lot.

For a matter of fact, I do know several people who hit rock bottom, stayed there for as long as the memory lane can go down and died just right there; at the bottom. Now for a perfectionist and an empath with anxiety, hitting the rock bottom is beyond normal. It is a norm. And as much as it scares me that I might stay down there forever, it scares me more that I might never live up to the expectations of coming right back up.

You know, there are just some days you can't really be the hero or someone anymore and you just need to survive. And survival is what all of us are working for. But also, survival has always been for the fittest, and sometimes, being in the least bit fit let alone being the fittest is totally out of the dictionary. There are days you wake up you can barely breathe, your heart is heavy, all aspects of failure are rubbing on your face but mostly, its like sand paper being scrubbed on your fragile beaten-up heart. They say the scrub only makes you shine brighter but in the meanwhile, it hurts, and it will hurt a lot more.

What I got to learn is that you can never really be prepared enough to face anything or armed enough for a war. They'll always be a lesson to be learnt in between the cracks of your heart. You can protect yourself all you can but the day you let down your guard for one single second is the day world war 3 happens; when all hell breaks loose and when you have to fight for your own survival. This kind of reminds me the story of Nabii Musa and Firaun. See how God downplays the best twists?! Firaun demands all male children to be killed after being foretold that a boy will be born and takeover his kingdom. But when his wife Asiya (R.A.A) picks Nabii Musa (A.S) from the river, she is able to convince Firaun that the boy could be beneficial and a son to them. Yet he turns out to be the one to takeover the kingdom. He protected himself from every boy he considered a threat, yet he welcomed the threat with his own two hands. Yes...fate. You can do all you want in this world; you can build walls around yourself, you can be vigilant and firm, you can be superman for all you wish, yet if you are meant to hit the rock bottom, you'll just go right down there; for as many times as it's written for you. But the thing is, everyone hits rock bottom, and the real test is how everyone finds their own way to get back up or stay below forever. People will put the blame on you for taking up the wrong choices, for making mistakes, for not working hard enough...yet they forget, it only happens for a reason.

I'm still finding my way up and i'll tell you this, it's tough and really rough. Plus being a millennial only makes it harder. Sometimes I feel I was born in the wrong Century for not relating to my peers. They say i'm an old soul. And when you are an introvert you just have no option but to turn to books and tv, to get out of your world. Some friends the other day were joking that people like us, 'the outcasts' should start a group and call it 'chama cha wanyonge' :D :D Idiots! or I know someone else who would call it 'chama cha washokaji' Not wachokaji, WASHOKAJI. Hilarious how the world views us; the introverts, the artists, the weird, the empaths...right? But maybe i'll one day really start the group, but of course with a fancy name dah! Or maybe it could be a movement, and we could help people move from rock bottom :D Or maybe that's where i'll meet you who knows :P

I'm not sure if you really do exist or maybe you don't. They say soulmates don't always occur in this life, maybe in the next...but if you don't, I have a plan B of going to live up the cave. I would say I will be with my 60 cats like its always the assumption with people but pets scare me (The introverts will disown me for this). So maybe I will be with my scarier dolls like Chucky from Child's play or Annabelle from The Conjuring filling up the entire house. Plus I got this brilliant idea from a meme of writing it on the wall outside: COME SEE MY DOLLS..and that's how the horror movie begins *silly grin*

Well, I said what I needed to say. Thank you for being a wonderful listener. Plus please do remember to pray for me; to rise like the phoenix from the ashes. Ameen? I really don't want to stay rock bottom, who wants anyway?!

P.S. You are the hope i'm waiting for :)

Until God decides our fate, take care ;)

13 KINDS OF MEN YOU'LL MEET AT THE COAST

Photo Courtesy: http://www.lamupaintersfestival.org

Just like any other place, the Coast too has it's good, bad and ugly. Sure enough, what's below is only part of the story and not the full picture. There are several other personalities and several other perceptions. So kindly read this without being judgmental. There's always another side of the coin ;)

1. The man rich in culture: He is the typical 'Coasterian' from head to toe. He is proud of his culture and traditions and would never trade it for anything else. He is always in a kanzu and kofia or otherwise a kikoi and shirt. His shoes would always be the makubadhi just like his coffee would never be espresso, latte or cappuccino. He would even ask, with eyebrows raised, "Why on earth would I drink that when there is kahawa tungu?" (In Kiswahili of course). So nah, the sugarcoating of these fancy names don't move him in the least bit. You wouldn't miss him in traditional events like the lamu cultural festival or mawlid and zefe. His house preference would always be the Swahili traditional homes so definitely, his wife choice would be a woman who knows enough about udi and asmini and a lot about samaki wa kupaka, mkate wa mofa and matobosha. He probably works as a fisherman or in the traditional businesses that have been existence since his forefathers. In the evenings he'd be seated at the baraza with friends chit-chatting or playing backgammon. His accent is not 'Westernized' so the 'T' in Fatma comes out mildly as it should be. If you are a visitor at the Coast, this is the guy you meet and see 'the Coast' all over him.

2. The Maalim: The man with the longest beard? :D His clothe of choice would always be the white sparkling kanzu. He is the sheikh; the ustadh. People trust him and value his opinions. He holds some knowledge in religion and preaches. The community treats him like the village elder and thus, involve him in many of their problems. He is respected and honoured. He is definitely the man to go to when in trouble.

3. The Mganga? Before you meet him, you will come across his poster or a piece of wood on an electricity pole advertising his 'skills.' Oh, he promises a lot of things; to cure your ailment, to get you a good job, to know if your wife is cheating. The only thing he won't promise you is heaven. You'd find his home in a dark town in a dark village in the darkest spot of the mtaa. Creepy? I thought so too.

4. The lazy bone: He has no idea what is happening in his life or those around him. He is pretty much non-existent. He is jobless and is not ready to look for one. His wife/mother/woman of the house ends up spoon-feeding him because he'll never bother provide or bring something to the table. In the evenings you'd find him at the baraza with his two kilos of miraa. He is so comfy and you'd wonder how they can be that relaxed without a penny.

5. The shy guy: He is genuinely shy. Not the social media guys who claim to be shy because this one definitely is. He is raised with high Islamic and traditional morals, he'd blush if a girl said hi. He is more often than not a loner or with few selected friends. You never have to worry about his behaviour in front of your parents because he knows his limits.

6. The sea-lover: It would be so wrong to be born at the Coast and not love the sea right? He cherishes the sea than anything else. It's the place he goes to early in the morning for a jog, or at lunch hour to eat or when is stressed, when happy, when he is bored, when everything and nothing happens...you'd find him there. The sea is his home.

7. The odds beater: He is the man who proves against the stereotype that Coast folks only await for the mangoes to drop. He is ambitious and passionate in whatever field he has taken. He may be very well educated but he may also be not. However he is still very successful.

8. The slippy mouth: He knows all the insults in the world. Everything in his conversations and talks must include an insult even when it's totally out of context. Doesn't matter if he is joking, laughing, greeting, teasing a friend,angry or frustrated; an insult will definitely appear somewhere in his sentences. Most probably he grew up with the habit or adopted it. He doesn't care what you'll think of it but you better be prepared when talking to him; your ears will beg for mercy. Oh and by the way, he's also very loud in his speech so you'll hear the insult even when miles apart.

9. Mommy's boy: Most of the times, a boy like him comes from the upper class but sometimes from the lower class too. He's been pampered all his life and been given all he ever needed. He barely knows how to survive on his own and depends highly on his mum/parents to sort things out for him. He loves his mum genuinely though, we can't argue about that.

10. The gentleman: He may be similar to the shy guy but not necessarily. He is charming, a man of his words and most of all, humble and gentle to the people around him. He is a principled man and knows how to deal with people. Husband material? Most often than not.

11. The man of four wives: He will say he has a big heart which is spacious enough to accommodate four ladies :D Cliche much :D Never debate polygamy with him because you'll fail miserably. He finds solace in his women and is proud of himself. Wonder all you want, he still made it through with his wives :D or maybe he didn't but he still doesn't regret his 'venture' into polygamy.

12. The pious one: Born in a family with good morals, raised well enough, ventured into religious education and has succeeded in being a scholar. In other scenarios, he pushed himself single-handedly into piety-hood. May be young but holds an ocean of knowledge in him. May be a hafidh too (memorizer of the qur'an) and people around him value his wisdom. He may or may not be a preacher but his opinions are still highly respected due to his level of piety.

13. The drug-addict: The most unfortunate scenarios of them all. He probably started early with small stuff like sheesha and miraa before graduating to marijuana and the likes. He may be from a broken family or is a neglected kid and sometimes, he is just a spoilt brat. He met other birds with the same colours and now they flock together terrorizing the community around them. This kind of story most often than not ends miserably or terribly except if he is lucky enough and got a hand to pull him out and into rehabilitation. May God protect us from such scenarios.

Oh well, we still love the Coast don't we? With everything in it and every kind of personality we still love it here more because no place will ever feel like home more. Hey Coastal men, found yourself up there? :D

WHEN THOSE DAYS COME

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

We all know 'those days'. We all have them, we all bump into them, we all have to deal with them. Those tough rough days. Those days when everything comes crashing on you like an avalanche, when your shadow overcasts you, when the sun is less brighter, when the storm is too harsh too rough. When those days come, I want you to know, it's going to be alright.

It just doesn't seem alright at the moment. You are about to give up. Nothing is working out. Too much to think about. A lot of stress eating up your head. You wanna quit. You just wanna lay in bed...for eternity...and just stare at the fan move in circles. You feel like you are about to drown. The water is pulling you down. You are losing yourself to the storm. Letting yourself go...into darkness...eyes closed...NOTHING.

It's too dark in there. It's like your soul is separating from your body; slow death. You feel yourself detach from yourself. You wanna cry. You wanna scream. Yet you wanna stop all that noise in your head. You want the silence. You need the quiet. You yearn for the solace. But you have to stand up to get to that. You will have to pull yourself from drowning. Stand up from the mud and dust yourself off. You will need to try see the positive side of it all. It's always there. There is nothing like an entire dark day or dark hole or a dark trap. There's always a positive thing for you. Find that now. As much as the cave is too dark, light up your own fire, the bats will hover around you for a while but you will have to shake them off. Keep moving, holding the fire on one hand and move further into the dark cave...you will see light on the end of the tunnel. I promise you you will.

It's too much for you now, but it won't be tomorrow. Things will straighten up. Your plans may have failed but you can always come up with other ones. Your wishes may have crashed but there's always something else in store for you. It's there. It's coming. Just hold on a little bit more. Keep walking. The fire is still in your hand. Use it to look at the beauty of the cave; how amusing and amazing that place can still be despite the situation. Have faith that God won't and will never abandon you. Keep anticipating your arrival at the destination; getting to the light at the end of the tunnel. However slow your steps are, you still will get there. I can see the light getting closer, can you??

When those days come, do know that it's going to be better. That YOU are going to get better. That someday, you will remember these dark days, smile and thank God for the lessons. When those days come, don't fall apart; STAND TALL.