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01:37:00 , ,

 I have always found the kid's bedtime challenging, partly it is the work involved: bath time, nappy changes, milk bottles and dragging people into the bathroom to brush their teeth, 


Partly it is the fun of little people who decide they are not sleepy and try to escape. Or boys who are old enough to know better, but are still up after bedtime wrestling, or asking if they can go down and get a glass of water when they should be asleep.

During Ramadan in particular I have tried to be firm and keep the bedtime routine under control and manageable and the kids in bed so that we can have a peaceful iftar (fast breaking meal) and calm Esha and taraweeh prayer.

Yesterday I was praying Esha, when I saw Baby out of the corner of my eye catapult herself out of her cot and make a run for it.  I have moved her cot away from my bed so that she can't flip out of her cot on to my bed and wander off.  This has worked so far, but yesterday she decided to risk it and throw herself across the gap between my bed and her cot.  I'm sure this has something to do with the boys teaching her to jump off my bed earlier today.   By the time I finished praying she had raided Gorgeous' drawer for the box of Maltesers he kept under his socks.  It was his treat for fasting and he wasn't very impressed when he found out next morning half the box was gone.

Today she fell asleep in the evening as I was cooking.  I should have woke her up, but I never have the heart to wake a sleeping baby (or I am just grateful for the chance to get things done).  So now at bedtime, she is wide awake and hanging out in the boys room reading Darling's favourite book (Primrose in Charge by Alan McDonald), or fascinated by the pictures at least.


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08:36:00 ,
Tarekpukat - A strange thing happened to me yesterday (I love it when I get to start a post that way). I was just finishing up my chores and getting the kids to bed when the doorbell rang. It was an elderly lady I see sometimes going past my house or shopping nearby with her husband.  She asked if she could have a drink of water. I invited her in, gave her some water and she decided to sit for a while.

She asked me how many children I had, how many were girls (I think she only has sons), how my parents were and whose running machine was in our living room. If anyone else had walked into my home and asked so many questions by now, I might be a bit worried about what they were up to. But I like nosy old ladies who ask lots of questions, and it is a different generation, they don't see the harm in their questions. Or maybe they have become disinhibited enough to ask the questions the rest of us think about but know better than to ask.

I asked if she would like some dinner. She said that she had made diner and just needed the flour for the chapatt's which her husband was picking up down the road. Then she told me she knew my dad and my grandmother. Her husband had worked at the Ford motor factory with my dad and they used to live nearby my parents and grandmother many years ago. I might have thought she was a bit nutsy, or mistaking me for someone else, but she named each of them in turn.

Then she eased herself up and said she needed to be off. She asked me to tell her husband she had gone home if he stopped by to pick her up and headed out of the door.

It was a slightly surreal encounter, it made me think though about all of the people my grandmother knew. She was such a sociable lady, everybody called her Aunty and I remember a constant stream of visitors to see her when we were children. She lived with me when I was a newlywed and we were never short of guests who would come by and sit to hear her stories, or tell theirs when they needed a sympathetic ear. Better still was when we got to witness one of her occasional and wonderfully acerbic, truth-telling, scolding's when she thought someone needed to be taken down a peg or two.

When she died, we had people coming to pay respect for weeks, friends, family and then people who we didn't know but who grand had met over the 40 or so years she lived here. It's nice when every now and again someone else pop's up who knows her. Seems like a person's welcoming nature and kind words can live long after the person themselves.


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02:27:00 , ,
Tarekpukat - Said some scholars that even though the earth and the sky were created by Allah SWT on Sunday, then the wisdom for people who want to build a house or other building to be able to build on that day.

Then Allah created the Sun and the moon on Monday where the nature of both of them went eastward to the west, so for those who want to travel it would be nice to pray on Monday.

Then Allah created all the animals on the land and on the sea on Tuesday and then Allah allowed to slaughter them (shed blood), the wisdom of people who planned to donate their blood or make a mark then the best was done on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, God created all rivers and seas and allowed them to enjoy them by drinking them, then for those who want to take medicine to get them on Wednesday.

Exactly on Thursday, God created heaven and hell and made heaven a place of necessity for humans and made hell release for him, so that for someone who wants to be fulfilled from someone else to be able to request it on Thursday

Finally, Allah created Prophet Adam AS and his partner Sitti Hawa on Friday and married her on that day, so that those who want to get married should do it on Friday.

Wallahua'lam 

Reference: Kitabussaba'ti fi mawa'izil bariyyati Page 39-40

source: lbm.mudimesra.com

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07:56:00 ,

Tarekpukat - Charity is a precious glory, because charity can remove sin as the water that can extinguish the fire, by giving charity we will receive the shade of Him in the hereafter, giving charity to the wealth we have, Allah will multiply the reward of the people the charity and many other virtues.


About this there is a hadith from Ibnu abbas RA which tells of a woman from Israel who had a wandering husband, and her husband had a mother who loved her at first, but eventually her father-in-law hated her and fabricated a divorce letter given to her son-in-law and the woman also has two children from her husband whom he loves.

Then the woman and her children returned to their families, and at that time they had a king who hated to feed the poor, on the way home the woman met a poor person who asked her for a little help eating bread, then the woman asked to the poor, "do you know that the king forbids feeding the poor?" The man replied, "I know, but I will perish if you don't give me a little food" and finally the woman feeds him, after the woman told her not to tell anyone. So the poor man left and suddenly met the royal guard, the guard asked him "where did you get the two loaves?"

the poor laughed "from a woman", then the guard looked for the woman and met her.
Then the guard asked "is it true that you gave these two loaves
the woman replied "yes"
the guard continued the question, "do you not know that the king forbade it?" the woman replied "I know"
guard; why did you give it?
woman; because I'm sorry.
then the guard brought the woman to the king, and he asked him,
king: "do you not know that I forbid it?
woman: I know
king: why did you give it?
woman: because I feel sorry and I hope no one knows.
then king too told the executioner to cut both his hands on the two breads he had given and the execution went smoothly.


then suddenly the child slipped and fell into the river, her mother panicked so she told the other child to help his brother drowning, in the end the two were lost in the river, his mother could not do anything because he did not have a hand. So the woman stayed alone with a wound above sorrow, then suddenly someone appeared and said to the woman, "O servant of God, I see you so sad. And the woman asks for a prayer from that person after the woman tells her story, and the person gives her two choices, do you want your hands or your two children? Without a doubt the woman replied, I want my child back. And finally the person prayed for him and suddenly his child appeared, and his hands. Then the person said, "I am the messenger of God sent to you, both hands are two loaves and two children are your reward from Allah that you have helped the poor and your patience for the trials that befall you, know your husband does not divorce you then go home to your husband, he there at home and in fact your in-laws are dead, then the woman goes home. And all matters are fulfilled.

- Ianatuththalibin Page 209

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06:57:00 ,
Tarekpukat - Every now and again I have a day when I just don't want to do anything. Usually because I am tired and my body is just telling my brain that enough is enough. My brain responds by getting grumpy and finding excuses to leave the dishes, or laundry or messy bathroom.

When I was a kid, we used to go out for day trips as a family. We would spend the day traipsing round, have a lunch packed by my mum early in the morning and then usually sleep through the long trip home. Then we would get home to land in front of the TV exhausted while mum started preparing dinner.

Now when we spend the day out as a family or spend a couple of hours in the park or shopping, we come home, unpack the car and put away our things. Everyone crashes and then I start sorting out lunch or dinner. But some days I feel annoyed. I am tired the same as everyone else, I want to rest, not prepare a meal in a rush so that we can make our next prayer on time or because everyone is hungry. Luckily my husband is a sweetie Masha Allah and if he can see it has been a long day and I am tired, he will suggest ordering takeaway.

It makes me think of my mum. No matter how tired she was she would get on with organizing what her family needed without complaint. The thing is, I don't think we mama's, sisters, daughters who take on all of the care for all of our loved ones should always do it uncomplainingly. Don't get me wrong, I love the way the Sahabah (RA), the companions of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (Shallallahu 'alaihi wasallam), provided us with an example of the way we should treat each other. They would put aside their needs to help others and they would forgo their rights to fullfil their responsibilities towards others. Muslimah's do this every day throughout their everyday lives. Mothers that let their family have the best parts of the meal or make do with leftovers, sisters that give up their study time to help younger siblings with their learning and daughters that are happy with whatever is given to them and never ask for anything Masha Allah.

But every now and again it is too much. We are tired, or we want something for ourselves. We can stay silent and serve in the way we always do, but feel resentful at the same time. We are not doing it out of a sense of duty and with happiness.

Sometimes we feel as if we have no choice: someone has to do it, or what will your family think? Often we think less of ourselves if we do less than everything for everyone.

Over time as I got older, I feel more empowered to make my own decisions and care less what people think. So rather than stay silent and feel resentful, every now and again, I will decide that I have done enough and I don't want to do any more for a while. I will welcome people to help themselves to leftovers from the fridge, I will get the older kids to help with the younger ones. I will leave the dishes in the sink, the piles of laundry and the mess in the bathroom. I will do exactly what I want and try my level best to ignore the little voice that says everyone will just think you are lazy.

So today, after a busy long Bank Holiday weekend and a morning out with the kids, I gave everyone left overs for lunch, prayed the midday prayer and then decided I would do nothing for a few hours. No housework, no organizing, no preparation for tomorrow, not even being sensible about my diet. I still felt a little bit of guilt at the back of my mind, but managed to keep it at bay long enough to relax at my moms for a few hours, and enjoy coffee and chocolate.

So I would encourage Muslimah's to make time to take care of themselves, be a bit irresponsible and say no to their duties for a little while when they need to. Or better still, see it as being responsible and sensible to give themselves enough of a rest and break, that they go back to caring for their loved ones without resentment.

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08:35:00 ,
Tarekpukat -When I was approached by the author, Adejoke Ajibade-Bakare to review her book of poetry, I was a little nonplussed. I love books, especially straightforward and fast paced prose, but poetry is another matter. I am never sure if I am missing something, a metaphor of some kind or an allusion to some deeper truth that the poet is revealing. I rarely read poetry, although I do love the poetry of the Sufi Abdullah Shah Qadri, Maya Angelou, Grace Nichols and the great Pakistani poet-philosopher Muhammad Iqbal, but I did not feel qualified to comment. Then I came to the conclusion that I don't have to judge the structure or technique of the poems, but I can describe how it makes me feel and what it evokes for me. 



The book opens with a poem about a poor mother whose children are hungry, one line stood out: "Necks extended, a plea to the steel pot", as the children look to the empty pot for food. This poem reminded me a little Maya Angelou's style of writing and set the tone of the book for me. 

The book is split into five sections, along broad themes, the first "Womb Tales" is around the theme of women and motherhood. I enjoyed these lines from the poem Aye (meaning Life): 

Up and about 
The adogan 
Cracking sparks of fire 
As the ogi dances 
To the rhythms set by blind hands 

I really liked the use of Yoruba words, I love that at the bottom of each page, there is an explanation of each word that is not in English. The poem gives a glimpse into a busy morning on a normal day, the poem gives a sense of a life that is not easy ("battered feet", "blind hands"), but at the same time gives a feeling of energy and busyness ("Splish splosh into the amo", "Cracking sparks of fire", "busy hands"). 

The poems in this section talk of pregnancy, birth, motherhood, and loss alluding to miscarriage. There is a loving and benign father figure that appears through some of them. Often the tone is melancholy occasionally there is a glimmer of hope. In reflection of the private nature of these themes, the poems are often not clear, but allude to events in a subtle way. 

In the section called Childhood Dreams, the tone changes to a more upbeat one. "My Emmanuel" stands out with its lovely description of a young man: 

Strong arms 
Fast legs 
Broad smile 
Grinning ear to ear 
A handshake 
To show gratitude 
A hug 
To show love  




The sentences are short, clear and full of energy. The kind of poem I would love to dedicate to a beloved son. 

The section called Woes of a Nation again feels different: with more wide-ranging themes such as patriotism (Woes of a Nation: "And is there for all to celebrate, The celebration of Nigeria Anew."), these poems have a lyrical, epic feel. Some of the poems are inspired by national tragedies such as a plane crash or the kidnapping of young boys and girls by Boko Haram, making them feel quite poignant. Others mention the land and earth, war and poverty: 

A scenery of fear, poverty and destruction 
Earth shattering sounds 
Hitting hard, sinking deep 
Like hot rocks 
Splashing blood 

The last lines (from the poem "Aleppo") make a powerful impression and invoke strong images. Many others, remind us that we should not lose hope in Allah SWT and that tomorrow is a new day full of hope. My favorite poem in this section was Arise Naija, for the way it ends with a call to the people to rise and claim their land. 

The poems in the part called Soul Talk are about self-reflection and self-love. They are spiritual in nature and touch on the relationship with Allah SWT, many of them try to inspire and motivate us to use out limited time well. Some of them spoke more deeply to me than others, I suspect this will be largely a result of where the reader is in their own journey and what resonates. 

The last section, Life's Palaver, speaks of how we get caught up in everyday troubles, of work and missed opportunity: 

Sooner I should I have come 
Much sooner, I should have come 
The fish waits not for the fisherman 
The fisherman that is yet to come 
(From the Fisherman)  




Some of the poems describe the hustle and bustle of every day life (The Alms Seeker, Far Gosford Street, the Street that Never Sleeps), with descriptions of noisy traffic and the smell of food from restaurants, most often the narrator watching it all go by. A number of the poems in this section are about children and childhood (Golden Child, The Prince and the Pauper, Lost Time Not Found). These touch on the way children are affected by poverty or parents that are too busy for them. 

I had my reservations, but I came to enjoy reading the poetry in the concise and accessible book, I enjoyed getting a flavour of Nigerian life and I was moved by the tributes to the people of the country who have been beset by tragedy.


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