Where do you begin? When after love has been declared like a mirror hanging over the fire place finally falls and shatters. Who picks up the pieces?
The answers are there, but whether the two that once loved are strong enough or mature enough to face up to reality is another question.
In the most common of scenario’s its the woman who is left with the children, and life must continue. But is there enough out there in this big world to aid a family to establish a way forward without the interference of ego’s.
Quiet often those involved know there is hardly nothing, and if you want help you must exert your energy to access this support.
Today I sat and spoke to a young child afflicted with a heavy heart scared to express how they really felt amidst the exchange of ammunition.
Some things are easier than others, but as a community it grieves me to know that as people rush to rejoice in the union of two coming together, their absence will be felt when it all goes wrong.
I pray that the children who become victim to this neglect are protected from the many obstacles they will face in light of when a marriage finally fails.
Life after divorce is never going to be easy, but the recovery is vital, as just like broken glass, if we don’t pick up all the pieces, someone is going to get hurt!
Standing in the audience at the Eid mela I reflected on how far I came. I stared at the stage remembering the times I joined some of the artists on there singing and doing my thang!
It all came to an end for me when I came across the Islamic view that women singing is not permissible. When I learnt this alongside my purpose in life I abandoned it.
Letting go of the singing was a very sad part of my life as I laid to rest a big part of who I had become for most of my life.
It was one day at a dinner I met a sister who became very upset when she learned I had given up the singing. This meeting got me thinking, and I revisited the position on singing.
Fast forward to today I’m singing at women only events, and I’m overcome with emotion to learn that my ‘voice is like medicine’ as one sister said to me.
On the other hand many sisters still contact me, expressing reasons why I should stay far from Nasheed’s.
Peace comes from seeking guidance from my Lord, and I ask Allah everyday to keep me away from that which is not good for me.
My son is at an age where he has witnessed me on a journey, and at the Eid Mela he asked me something I couldn’t answer. He said why is it ok for Muslim men to sing to men and women, doesn’t it make sense that they only sing to men too!
And the journey continues, Please feel free to comment on this one!
Just a quick blog to say thank you to those who have chose to follow me. Blogging is something that has grown on me over time. I started with the intention of just getting things off my chest. Knowing that my blogs have helped others through their tough times is just a bonus!
So Thank you
It was wonderful! I crept out the room and ran myself a hot bath. Only 7am in the morning and the whole house was silent and peaceful.
I sat at the mirror and took a deep breath, another day I thought Praise be to Allah.
No sooner had I exhaled my son walked into the room, ‘Morning Mom’!
“Sssshhhhhh”, I commanded him! I was desperate to complete my blissful morning with a cup of green tea. But no, that was not going to happen not today.
Time alone used to be something I ran from. And trust me, when you are not used to it, its harder than you think.
However after forcing myself to 7 days of being alone with myself, I now rush at the opportunity to sit and just breathe.
As I write this my daughter crawls on my back desperate to have my time. I realised spending time alone that if we don’t assess how we distribute our time, we’ll often miss out on the things and people that count the most. And most fortunate for me I value that time alone!
I don’t get much time but when I’m able to I’ll go and visit her. Just an hour she requests bravely with a smile.
Other than me her only contact is with her drug dealer and anyone associated with her daughter or herself.
Imagine weeks upon weeks upon months of no one looking after you, checking on you seeing if you are ok.
I tried inviting organisations to help her! The food bank delivered her a month’s supply of food, but she just shared most of it amongst other families in need.
When I gave her money, I realised that it was spent recklessly on drugs or items of luxury like 3 pairs of boots.
All that was left is I check on her, and tell her she’s loved and capable and doing well. It broke my heart till slowly there was progress.
She started to unravel how my words although apparently worthless in their weight, left her pearls of strength and hope.
This blog is not here for me to praise my behaviour but rather to highlight how what we feel may be little may in fact be great.
I pray for her everyday in the hope that one day I’ll visit her and see her smile again not because she is forcing her self too, but because she wants too.
Dedicated to a sister who thought she was worth nothing but learnt she is incredible and special and worth fighting for!