Thursday, 19 April 2018

Mr. Nice Guy

Photo Courtesy: unknown

There is this common fallacy or some sort of ignorance existing in our thinking. Mr. Nice guy. Or, reframed to our contextual environment of the coast, the Pious Brother. And every time someone corrects this fallacy, people listen and they're like, "Oh wow maa shaa Allah, so true, very interesting.." and then after, they continue basing their reasoning just like before as if the Men in Black were waiting on the exist door of the room with their memory flashing sticks. If I had a drill that could drill information into people's brains, i'd come out of this screen and drill this to your head and then perform imaginary First Aid on you because non of that exists or is possible....Pheew, now that's out of my system, let's get on with the main course.

A lot and I mean A-lot of people think that anyone who is observant upon the deen is not supposed to ever have anything to do with lust and other gender needs, and not because they don't know they're human like everyone else and we're created with them. They know this and even acknowledge it. But every time the supposedly pious bunch express anything of the sort, "Eh kumbe ustadhi pia yumo 😏." or "Haram khui 😱"  are the kinds of responses you get from them. 

All the Mr. Nice guys are men. And men are made of hormones, a body and a brain to govern it all. The first reason why a brother will steer far from any lustful situation is because Allah subhanahu wataala ordered it. And Islam means submission. So it's submission to the adornment Allah subhanahu wataala wishes. The other is because the brother knows his hormones will take charge and the concept of 'aql' will be disintegrated in lustful minutes...aaaand he'll have to find a mosque that has no "Hakuna Ruhusa Kabisa ya Kuoga Hapa 😐" sign because there are 5 daily prayers a day. 

While we're on this, if there's any brother out there feeling like the hormones are a burden to them, I tell you today that this is a feature your Rabb created in you. And accepting it is the first step to mould yourself around the orders of Allah subhanahu wataala. This is why our Prophet aleyhi salaam went to his wife after getting the urge when a woman passed by where he sat with his swahabas. It doesn't get more realistic than this. 

And to the rest of the you know. The struggle is real man. But I can understand where you come from. I mean, being pious means struggling with your bad habits, falling in and out of them. And holding on just long enough until Allah subhanahu wataala starts bragging of you to His Angels. And you see with Allah's eyes, hear with Allah's ears and walk with Allah's legs; when looking at Haram becomes disgust, going to the Haram becomes introverted and when you hear Prophet Muhammad's name being mentioned all your senses and attention open up...

Perhaps the most apparent is every time you walk into a masjid, it feels like walking into an exciting and beautiful garden, where all your worries and responsibilities are lifted off of you like an overcoat, a feeling of warmth and energy and fragrance of orange...the Arabian and persian art stand as if in movement through the deep voice harmonizing the words of you Lord as you feel His presence upon you, listening to you praise Him, looking at you as you bow down to His Splendor, wishing the imam could bow just a little longer, wishing that time would go slower....such depth, peace, pain melting freedom... 

Mr. Nice guy is first and foremost a guy, who's always trying to be nice. This notion of always putting them on a pedestal is such a disappointment because Human isn't complete without flawed in it. Only He who created them deserves such expectations. And don't be shy about who Allah subhanahu wataala moulded you to be. Accept it (for ultimate comfort) and find ways that you can use it to please Him....

Now, where Is that drill? πŸ‘€

Monday, 16 April 2018


Photo Courtesy: Pinterest.con

I choose to be numb
Numb to the sweet-bitter noise 
To the voices that ripple the surface of crystal clear depths
Deafening their silence 
Flooding the coolness of their rhythmic beating pulses 

But I struggle
Struggle to be numb
To be cold to the soothing hymning hisses 
Sweeping away my trance like crawling desert silicates 

Stealing it

Leading it to the palpitating lights
Taking it to the soul of strobing amber flights 

Dousing it 
Immersing it in oscillating groove
That tingles every tendon connecting the calcium to your muscles
Untangling it's winding fabrication
Loosening every pinch of its twinning extension
Undoing every contraction 
Neutralizing any retraction
Nibbling away it's strength like Alzheimer's biblical incarnation

Beautiful destruction

Sweating, staggering, blind with addiction

But still I struggle 
And struggle 

And as I fall

I choose the silence 
The calm
The unwavering motion of crystal clear depths...

I choose to be numb

Friday, 13 April 2018


Photo Courtesy:
Have you ever wondered why you are the way you are? How you ever wanted to change something about you you're not proud of? Have you ever wondered how to be you? 

One of my most embarrassing childhood memories is that I never liked to bath. Yep. It got soo bad that whenever I was on the spot light, I'd go pour water on myself and get out "bathed." 
Every time we'd share embarrassing moments my sister's would kill me with this story of mine. And I never knew how to explain this chapter of my childhood. Well, until I discovered my love for psychology and finally understood why.

It all started when my dad was relocated to work in Mombasa. We had to move here as well and after some years in the city, moved to its suburban side. Back then it was our house surrounded by thick untamed and beautiful forests that vibrated in peace and natural vibes all day and night. It was so secluded from the world that our house was the first with electricity in the area, and we were using inverted battery power. I miss the brightness of the stars under the blackness of the night. They all were my escape and I feel the glowing dust of freedom every time I think of them. I believe this is where nature made me it's emotion. Forever.

Anyways, being so remote, all our neighbors lived in mud huts. Most of the residents lived a life of hand to mouth; life minus all the tiny privileges like running water and leftover food. I had no friends and hadn't resumed school yet. And because I was the only boy, I wondered outside to play under the trees and in child innocence, acquainted with the other boys and we hang out. A lot. 
The one thing I remember is a couple of boys existing with fun and stories as we met up in the morning, hunt birds and play, eat mangoes for lunch and grace the evening looking like homemade camouflage of sand and dirt... Good times.

The intriguing thing for me in all of this is that, my reaction of taking arms against water, was simply a reflection of my friendship to my new friends. I was so close to them my subconscious made sure I didn't appear the odd one out among friends who considered me as the "rich" one.  This is the power our childhood holds regarding the people we are today. And as for me, I have a killer explanation to get back at my sisters mwahahahaha....ahem, let as proceed...

Right now we hide under layers and layers of deflecting qualities from the people we truly are inside. I was loyal to that lot even when they were not with me. And so many cases of such behavior exist, an instance of the boy who shaved every follicle on his head; from his hair to eyebrows; to support his best friend who had cancer. 

When we were children, we had no one to give except our true raw selves. If we liked something or someone, we were never afraid to show it nor did we think of what others might say. We were authentic. And there is nothing that comes close to being free and being authentic. That's why we have best friends; people we can share anything with and not worry doing so, or why meeting someone with the same likes is so exciting. Because we can be the one thing people have a hard time defining. We can be ourselves...

We live in a messy world today. People are these protective insecure sensitive balls walking around wrapped in translucent wrappers and tapes that are made from the material of socially acceptable norms. It is most probable that we will forget who we truly are beneath the wrappers. And when that happens, when you want to change who you are now, look into your childhood. And understand it. Only then will you understand who you are and why you are like so. Only then will you understand You.

And that is the first step of being authentic. Because at the end of the day, what is a life that is lived with the approval of others? 
PS, in olden times, this concept was known as Slavery. So choose your master wisely. 

Tuesday, 10 April 2018

The Mirage of Colour

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Have you ever asked yourself if you’ve ever been the bad guy of the story? Have you ever imagined what harm you might have done to someone with a word you said unknowingly or a reaction you displayed over something? Socializing is our nature and these events are prone to happen to us and us to others without knowledge. And the worst part of this story is when you are the legit bad guy.

I, loving to do outreaches and community services, have been through a lot of interactions with many people over the course of my few years of existence; some of them are good and some not as great. But at the end of the day, you get to go home with some new knowledge of some kind. Be it good or bad, it sticks with you most of the times and often hard to shake off once it does.

I said it and I’ll say it again, I love community services majorly because doing good for others makes you feel awesome and happy; which is based on a scientific background of chemicals and hormones that I’ll talk about some day and, it is a form of charity whereby I being Muslim, am taught that I shouldn’t delay it because it is a guard to calamities and that it reduces the Anger of Allah upon you. I don’t know about you but with the kind of world we’re living in today, I’ll take charity any day of the week.

So whenever I leave for charity work in the morning, I make sure to remove every bit of my ego that my mind can allow and leave it at home when I leave. Because I want to give my all that day. And in the high profile works in the charity pile that I involve with, naturally you get high profile people ya’ani with better living standards than you. And I think you all know what the stereo type regarding better quality of life comes with; light skin (Ooooo controversy detecteeed 😱)

Fast forward to the charity event, we’re all doing the work, me throwing myself at any work I can get and doing it and everyone’s busy and tired. Then one thing happens. Somehow a manifestation in the form of the level of respect you receive begins to deplete. And you notice this painfully in the treatment you receive in regard to how other stereotype light skin people are treated around you. You know what hurts though, it isn’t the natural disregard of coloured people due to societal norms and preaches of why such a colour is meant for lower classes of people or how one is regarded impure because their ethnic background is a cocktail of many cultures, I get that. We can blame society in setting up such a mind set in them and that can be undone with awareness and miracles. 

What hurts is how damn hard it is to be good.

Do you know how hard it is to convince your mind to dim their non-verbal sensing skills and rant to it how you’re only doing this for Allah whilst you are used with no regard of your efforts, that so happens to be branded on the guy who found you for the charity? Do you fathom how easy it is with the amount of information we have today to be a narcissistic manipulative jerk who possesses the power to use anyone to attain what he wants and not give a damn? Do you realize how easy it is not to care? I have friends who don’t care about what others might think when they express their thoughts and they are living the life right now. But being good, you have to care, to understand that they are just naΓ―ve and blinded by a thing they never had control of, ever, you have to consider that they need a guide, a reminder, a help in seeing the reality of their disposition before you can dare call them the bad guy. Being good means you have to pity them. And that is so damn hard…

I know that no matter how good we all consider ourselves to be, the only perfect one is our Creator. And I got to learn that writing about such things helps in making them a bit easier; booked appointment by the Healer of hearts πŸ˜‰ And for whatever has befallen me from the hands of others, I leave that hurt at the last letter of this article. And I also ask anyone who hurt by my hand to pardon my short comings. 

We are social beings. Interaction is our identity. Let’s avoid taking advantage of this norm. Of people. We bleed in the same colour, smile in the same language and feel in the same depths. Consider that the next time you meet someone.