Dust I was, floating in air,
Given an identity by Creator’s Care.
Flying seed I was, craving for land,
Given a golden ground by His Guidance.
Fake glitters charmed me too,
Devilish desires harmed me too,
Unbridled freedom marred me too,
Weak intentions charred me too.
But the vanity clouds washed off in tears,
As if from a lion’s jaw, escaped a deer.
As if a person got free from worldly prison,
And the light of his soul passed through a prism.
Quest is best for the determined soul,
Is the first one to reach its goal.
Guidance dawns upon those who find,
And don’t let their eyes go blind.
What are we but creations at test,
Oft who ignore what’s best.
The invisible enemy attacks from all sides,
And in dark hearts it cozily resides.
Yet Allah’s doors of Mercy are open to all,
Ask for His Help and be saved from fall.
Nature’s at your service as an Emblem of His Love,
And His Throne rests high above.
An excerpt from muslimmemo.com
This poem was written by Anam Fatima and am sharing the poem as a gift to all my fellow Muslim faithful in this month of Ramadan.
In the dark lonely night he came crying like a day old lamb deserted by its mother. WOIDI ALLAH he shouted with his cracking voices that sounded like one whose neck was under an attack. The more he bawled the more the tone sounded like one who was in a ship that is being drowned in an ocean. Even though it was in the dark, one need no light to see how bloated his lips were in that cold lonely night.
Such were the cries of young boys being maltreated by their own parents and their so called Ustaz in most part of the northern Nigeria. Even though this was not a new thing, that night seems to be different for me. As the boy whose age was no more than six years old cry; continuously shout “woidi Allah” the tears in my eyes knew no bound. Why the sudden feelings, I couldn’t tell myself.
Everyone is busy crying because of recession; we can’t even feed ourselves, even the ones who could hardly cook in excess these days. How can this child who feeds from what is left of our food eat himselves? He shouted “woidi Allah” from door to door, gates to gates but no response except “akuri (be patient)” which everyone kept chanting to him. Not a single soul to help this helpless soul.
Few minutes later, he walked sluggishly out of the arena. By this time it was clear how heavy the weight of his legs was. No slippers no thick clothing yet the cold wasn’t a concern of his but his stomach.
I followed him for I also had only a hundred naira on me but believe you me that amount is no far from being useless in this Buharism. Dan Mallam I called out to him and he rush like a hungry lion that was freed from a cage, ready to devour a prey; I handed over the last hundred naira on me to him. even though I was pretty sure without it, the next day would be trekking for me, I gave him anyway. The way he rushed away was pitiable. I stared at him till he was out of sight.
Why was he created? What kind of a father brings such misery to their children? No one can blame the innocent boy or the so called Usatz in this case. In a dark lonely night I shed the tears of a lonely Almajiri boy.