Take my baby, I insist!

We’ve all heard of couples who can’t have kids of their own adopting babies. The adopted babies are often orphans, and sometimes they’re abandoned by their own mothers who give them away to escape the social stigma of giving birth out of wedlock (disgusting but factual).

A relative of mine, let’s call her Filana, has been married for 10 years. She and her husband, Filan, have been trying to get pregnant for years but haven’t had any luck. Finally, they decided to adopt a child. Last year, when she asked for my opinion, I was so excited and suggested we go together to the Mygoma Orphanage where she can take one of the kids home with her. I also suggested that we first visit a farm that I used to volunteer at, conveniently located at a walking distance from my house, where the Mygoma kids are often sent to receive hippotherapy. There, I told her, she can meet the children, interact with them and make a final decision whether or not she wants to go through with this. I was certain that one look at these beautiful children will be enough to prompt Filana to take one home with her.

A few weeks later, there was a buzz about Filana and Filan finally adopting a baby girl. As predicted, family members’ reactions ranged between approving and critical. I thought that Filana may have gone to the Mygoma without me, nevertheless I was very thrilled for her and her husband. They were finally going to be happy.

After a few days passed, I met Filana at a family gathering and she introduced me to Filana, Jr., an adorable baby girl she was feeding milk to out of a bottle. She looked too tiny, may have been 1-month old. I started a conversation with her enquiring about her experience.

Me: So, how was it at the orphanage? Your first time, wasn’t it? It must’ve been really emotional for you. It can’t be easy having to choose which child you will end up giving a home to while leaving the rest behind. Picking out one baby out of hundreds, I can’t imagine the agony of it…

Filana: Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I was even luckier than I thought. I didn’t even have to go to this orphanage you always talk about.

Me: I see, did you go to another orphanage?

Filana: Actually, Filana, Jr. is my husband’s niece. Her biological father, Faloon, is my husband’s brother. His wife was pregnant, and they already had three girls. Faloon promised my husband that if his wife delivers a fourth girl this time, he will give her to us. Alhamdulillah, it was a girl and Faloon kept his word. She is ours now.

Me *flabbergasted*: Mabrook ya Hinaya. I mean ya Filana.

I went home that day with three thoughts consuming my head, in addition to the huge “WTF” that accompanied me for days to come.

1) Ordinary people give away their babies now? Perfectly healthy babies who are their own flesh and blood? And for what? For common courtesy? Is this a whole new level of Sudanese hospitality? Did the lady go, “God has blessed me with three little ones already, you need this one more than I do... take my baby, I insist!” Did Faloon tell his brother, “Wallahi as long as I’m alive and breathing, and have a kid to spare, you won’t set foot in that orphanage... take my baby, I insist!”

2) What about the hundreds of babies at the Mygoma Orphanage? What about babies left at the gate of the orphanage and others found on the streets? Do they know how many of the 1,500 abandoned babies every year end up surviving and how many die? Was there a lack in children who needed a home, food and clothing that prompted Filana and her husband to resort to taking a baby who already had a family?

3) What about Filana, Jr.? Won't she resent her parents for giving her away, even if to her own uncle? How confused will her life be, having an uncle for a father and a father for an uncle? How will she explain this to her friends growing up? What about her three sisters, is seeing them once a week the same as growing up with them, playing with them, having them around? How unfair is this to her?

While some of you may think it was Filana’s right to opt for the baby with the less complications and the unstained reputation who will not cause her and her husband any problems in the future given its origin, I, on the other hand, ask you this: when did beggars become choosers? And why is it okay for this to happen? How messed up must our community be to accept for a mother to give her child away to a stranger, and reject for another childless woman dying to become a mother to take in an illegitimate child? Why is the former considered a heroine and the latter a crazy b****? And how messed up must we be to abide by these messed up rules that can in no way be traced to religion?

What we need to do is grow up, stand up for what we believe in and fight these hypocritical laws, instead of robotically following them in order to conform, wanting so badly to be accepted by a society that puts blame on innocent children whose only fault is being born into a cruel, cruel world.

Note to Sudanese unmarried couples having unprotected sex: Either use protection, practice abstinence or move to another country that has more tolerance for illegitimate babies.

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Sudan, I love you.. but you're taking a toll on me [3]

During my student years, I came to learn so much about the do’s and dont’s of Sudanese culture, the customs and traditions, the taboos. I found so many things fascinating, others inexplicable... weddings and funerals perplexed me the most.

Why a bride had to take a sip of milk only to squirt it on her groom’s face while dressed in a dazzling red toab, sporting gold pharaoh-like accessories with too many women to count chanting and spraying the bride and groom with a powerful choke-inducing fragrance and diffusing the area with piquant frankincense baffled me.

And why women arrive at funerals with freshly-painted henna on their hands and feet, wearing the most kaleidoscopic toab in their wardrobe, and others conveniently schedule their condolence visitations with meal times, expecting the family of the deceased to serve them food and flavored tea, with some neighbors and distant relatives wailing, screeching and rolling on the floor theatrically in the background and others creating low-frequency ‘eee’ noises in an attempt to express their fake sympathy bemused me as well.

Perhaps what amazed me the most was the widespread sihir (black magic/witchcraft) phenomenon. During my first semester in university, a sheikh came in to give a lecture (I had no idea what it was about but attended anyway). He started off by addressing the large existence of sihir in our community, after which he began reciting a few verses of the Quran. To my astonishment, almost a quarter of the students in the lecture room (mind you it was a spacious room) began screaming, crying, and others laughing… it was weird, and scary. [I later on learned that those who reacted weirdly when the sihir verses were recited were possessed. Needless to say I memorized their faces and made minimal contact with them until graduation. An awkward five years it was.]

Not to scare you with the details, because they actually are pretty scary, but after some time had passed and I had witnessed a series of bizarre events I started believing in this stuff. If you’ve lived in Sudan for some time, you know what I’m talking about. Many cultures (and religions) including the Sudanese, know the ain (evil/envious eye) the mas (satanic possession) and the sihir to exist. I have heard one too many stories on each of the three, many of them if I may add were a tad exaggerated. But yeah, after my incredible fright had been lifted I started attending exorcism sessions with friends and family members where some weird s*** took place. [Those of you who don’t know this, there’s a sheikh/exorcist clinic, for lack of a better word, at every corner in the streets of Khartoum. Some of them are legit and their treatment involves reciting Quran, and others are dajjaleen (fake sheikhs/fake exorcists) who ask you to pronounce a bunch of words backwards, wear odd talismans, place pieces of paper with matrices and unidentified letters on them in weird places and make you sniff some unusual incents.]

So apparently it’s a trend to get sihir done on someone these days (okay these practices date way back) if you hate them, or even love them. There’s the local dajjal who, for a little bit of money, will help you marry that girl you’ve always had a crush on but never gave you the time of day. And that girl you’ve always been envious of, you know, the one with the perfect hair and the perfect boyfriend and the perfect grades. If you’re tired of seeing her lead her perfect little life, you can visit your local dajjal and bring it to an end. [I may be using sarcasm but I’m serious about these things happening, but more on 'black magic in Sudan' later, will be dedicating a whole blog post for that soon. Follow my blog you won't regret it, I will post some very interesting stories that may render you too freaked out to sleep at night.]

Anyway.

Even though I hate so many things that exist in Sudan, such as unnecessary funeral traditions that involve wailing, overspending in weddings, smelly black stuff and weak-hearted people who like to harm others using dajal, there’s still so much more to Sudan to be absolutely adored. Sure, each culture has its flaws, Sudan included… but you can’t deny the awesomeness of Sudan (especially when the weather’s under 50 degrees).

I love how we are so hospitable, to a disgusting degree sometimes... I love that our people always come together, even if it’s usually over a plate of fool (large amount of sesame oil served with cooked beans, some onions/tomatoes and a hint of feta cheese) which we love so much… I love that when it’s cloudy outside every leap year we pretend like we live in Paris… I love that we have traditions that no other country does, such as dipping drinking cups in a bucket and scooping some aradaib juice on a Ramadan eve and adding four spoons of sugar to a tiny-sized cup of tea… Most importantly, I love Bish Bish and his sweet dance moves.

So don’t bother yourself with the ugly things, such as sandstorms that render your house and ears dust-ridden, smelly black stuff spat out on every street corner, strangers who cost you two hours of your time because their manhood won't allow them to say 'I don't know' when asked for directions, that relative who only visits during lunch time, your president embarrassing you in front of other nations, that neighbor who wakes you up every morning to mooch off some tea/sugar/milk/you name it, that Egyptian guy who always asks you why Sudanese people are so lazy, your president embarrassing you in front of other nations, the price of meat going up so you switch to fish, the price of oil going up so you can't have fish because boiled fish is gross and instead switch to yogurt with bread, the price of bread going up so you only eat yogurt, the price of oxygen rising by 30% so you hold your breath 30% of the day, your country dividing into two, that old lady who always nags you to get married, sugar-free tea, oil-less fool, your president embarrassing you in front of other nations, hideous overpriced furniture, Sudanese state television. Instead, embrace the beauty that is Sudan, embrace your Sudani-ness... Give a laidback smile and ask that Egyptian guy why his country doesn't have a dancing president (or a president at all).. :)

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At The Heart of Sufism (Part 2): The Influences of Sufism in Sudanese Life

The village of Um Dawan Ban, 40 km from Khartoum, is deemed to be an ideal example of a Sufi region. Over 165 years ago, sheikh al-Ebaid Wad Badur, a Sufi of the al-Qadiriyya order, founded the village and spread the teachings of Sufism to the locals.

According to the city's residents, Wad Badur was travelling with his colleague in order to teach the Quran, when the two men stumbled upon the village, whose inhabitants treated them with great hospitality. It is recorded that upon dreaming that he was setting up a khalwa (solitary retreat) there, Wad Badur set up a khalwa the next day.

He is believed to have lit a fire inside his newly-established khalwa to help him read the Quran, and arrivals and convoys at night used the fire’s light for guidance. The village was then named Um Dawan Ban (where the light has shown). Nowadays, it is also commonly referred to as the Village of Quran due to the reputation of Wad Badur’s khalwa being a beacon for teaching the Quran.

Sufism and Politics

The Sufi orders in Sudan played significant roles in the country’s social, economic, cultural and political spheres. In some instances, Sufi orders have a history of transforming themselves into political forces.

The Turco-Egyptian invasion of 1820 was motivated by the desire of Muhammad Ali Pasha—the Viceroy of Egypt—to seize control of the wealth of Sudan. At the end of the Funj state’s reign and the beginning of the Turco-Egyptian rule in Sudan in 1821, Sudan entered a new political era. During this era, Sudan was introduced to various Sufi orders with the aid of the Egyptian rulers to give the new reign a religious zest and to guarantee the Sudanese people’s loyalty to Muhammad Ali Pasha. Pasha encouraged many new orders from Egypt to emerge in Sudan including the al-Saadiyya, al-Rahmaniyya, al-Badawiyya and al-Desoqiyya orders. In fact, Pasha’s policy in Sudan was based on strengthening ties between Egypt and Sudan, so he encouraged these orders to spread and take root, believing that religious propaganda is the easiest way to appeal to the masses of Sudan.

In 1881, the Turco-Egyptian regime was overthrown by a religious revolution, instigated by the al-Mahdiyya, who revolted due to harsh economic measures. The Mahdist state ruled Sudan until it was destroyed by an Anglo-Egyptian force in 1898.

Perhaps the strong influence of Sufism in Sudanese life is what prompted most regimes and political powers to exploit it in order to win political battles. In actuality, the emergence of traditional political parties in Sudan is associated with this arrangement, where the Democratic Unionist Party is an offshoot of the al-Mirghaniyya order, and the Ummah Party of the al-Mahdiyya order.

Moreover, the men of Sufi orders in Sudan have been involved in numerous aspects of modern life, and many of them and their children worked in state institutions and some of them even became counselors, ministers and ambassadors. Others excelled in academic life, such as sheikh Hassan al-Fatih Gariballah of the al-Samaniyya order, who went on to earn a professorship and published over 100 scientific papers. Many political leaders in Sudan are Sufis themselves, including several ministers in the present government. Gaafar Nimeiri, Sudan’s president from 1969 to 1985 was a faithful follower of the al-Sammaniya order.

Contemporary versus Traditional Sufis

Amir Ahmad, a self-proclaimed Sufi, does not practice Sufism in the traditional sense within a group or community setting. Instead, he individually meditates, recites zikir and practices the foundational Islamic tenets.

“My attraction to Sufism began when I got fed up of the overly legalistic approach to Islam that's dominant these days. Sufism's focus isn't on suffocating archaic rules. Instead the focus is on spiritual growth and mystical experiences, that are powerful and transformative once you've attained them and learned how to sustain their benefits so you can genuinely become a better person,” said Amir. “Moreover, since these are experiences, you don't have to believe in mysticism based on dogma and blind faith. The knowledge you attain is experiential, and you experience it for yourself,” he added.

On the other hand, Khalid Aboulela has been a follower of the Naqshbandiyya order for over 25 years, and says Sufism answered a lot of questions that seemed to be left unanswered by mainstream Islamic scholars. Khalid said, “As a believer in Allah I could not believe that the Quran was sent simply as a 'rule book'. There was clearly a lot of depth to the Quran. Praying, fasting, paying zakat and hajj just seemed to me, to be scratching the surface. I wanted to dive in, to find the 'pearls'.”

“Sufism allowed for the principle that there were different 'levels of knowledge' and that there was a type of knowledge that increased as our faith and closeness to Allah increased. It was this type of knowledge that they called 'spiritual knowledge', or gnosis in English or ma'rifah in Arabic. I was hooked to that,” he added.

When asked about the practices of the Naqshbandiyya order, Khalid explained that it centers on the follower's relationship with his sheikh through what is known as the rabitah (chain). “The follower is required to develop a rabitah with his sheikh spiritually, so that he is constantly in remembrance of his sheikh and in his presence until he achieves fanaa fil sheikh (annihilation into the sheikh), which leads to annihilation in the Prophet and ultimately annihilation in Allah. This is achieved through several methods including daily meditation in a quiet area in the dark, reciting certain Quranic surahs daily, maintaining the Sunnah in terms of dress and habits as much as possible and weekly zikir,” he clarified.

Khalid also commented on life as a Sufi saying, “Being a Sufi also affects your social life in terms of who you spend time with, who your friends are, and who you keep away from. Mainstream Muslims generally have ideological issues that run contrary to Sufism and that puts us off from participating in many Muslim groups or communities. Sufis tend to be more soft, forgiving and accepting of differences among people including non-Muslims, but we are also a lot less argumentative and tend to shy away from controversial arguments and debates. Some consider us secretive and that’s simply because we do not discuss our beliefs openly.”

Controversy

Amir and Khalid have different approaches to Sufism, but they both, however, agree on one thing: that the waves of criticisms on Sufism and claims that Sufism is a bid’ah (Islamic innovation) are nonsensical.

“The problem with Sufism in its current traditional form, especially in Sudan, is that it has become rife with superstition and excessive reverence of the sheikhs of the order. This obviously isn't because of something that's inherently wrong within Sufism itself, but because of the lack of education. Educated and open-minded Sudanese Sufis don't suffer from the problems you find quite spread amongst your average Sufis,” said Amir.

Regarding the music incorporated in some Sufi zikir sessions, which traditional Islamic scholars find unacceptable, both Amir and Khalid agree that there is nothing wrong with it, noting that the music is uplifting, positive and full of love and passion for God.

Khalid opined that the controversy stems from the use of magic in some Sufi ways and the emergence of false sheikhs. “Unfortunately there’s a tendency to abuse the nature/structure of Sufi orders in that false sheikhs tend to appear regularly in Sudan, which puts a drain on people and gives the real shuyookh (scholars) a bad reputation. It also overlaps with a lot of magic, hocus-pocus in Sudan (as well as in Egypt) with so-called shuyookh claiming to control jinns and pushing fake remedies and fixes to problems. These types are categorically rejected by the true Sufi shuyookh,” he stated.

This article was first published here

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Stories from Our Reality: Journey of a Darfurian Woman

He spotted her, wearing her school uniform, standing with a bunch of girls in front of an all girls’ school. To him, they all looked plain... dull, even. But she, on the other hand, stood out ever so elegantly. In all certainty she was the most beautiful young woman he’d ever seen. Even from afar, her big brown eyes were gleaming with splendour, and her dark chocolate skin was the fairest he’d ever laid eyes on. Their eyes met for a split second of majesty… she caught a glimpse of him and gave the most radiant smile, emerging her glistening teeth that to him appeared whiter than pearls, then timidly looked away.

Finally, he gathered the courage to approach her in the midst of the crowd of girls… but this was far from a normal situation. This was not merely the case of a guy approaching a girl whom, after only one glance, knew was the one for him. It was not as simple as a love-at-first-sight scene where the guy expresses his feelings and the girl forces a bashful smile.

In reality, it was a time of war, and he, a 26-year-old Northern Sudanese soldier, has fallen for an 18-year-old Darfurian girl. It was a critical position to say the least, where a state filled with bloodshed, racism and political unrest that suffered from harsh economic measures knew very little about racial tolerance. Yet, even though the chances of something sparking between the two of them were next to nil, the army soldier refused to hold back.

“Marry me,” were the only two words he uttered to her. Her friends, astounded by what had just happened, all turned to see her expression; which was blank. He anticipated for her to articulate something for what he felt was an eternity, but in fact were purely a few moments. Finally, she responded. “Our house is right over there,” she said, pointing at the old brick house just down the end of the road.

Later that night, he made an appearance at the house that she had earlier described. He was welcomed inside and introduced himself as Emad. The old man who invited him in appeared to be the young woman’s father, and Emad did not hesitate to ask for his daughter’s hand almost immediately. He anxiously awaited the response of the old man, only to hear him voice out the name of his future’s wife for the very first time; “It is up to Khadija, my son”.

Just like that, two weeks later Khadija and Emad were married. She moved to Khartoum to live with her husband at the housh, the big family house. It wasn’t very big though, or at least their share of the house wasn’t. Khadija and Emad were crammed in the tiniest room in the house. It was a room that had a very small kitchen with very few utensils, a tiny bathroom, and two metal beds joined together. Khadija didn’t mind the simple life… all she cared about was taking care of her husband.

Little did Khadija know that she was about to embark into the most difficult journey of her life. Dealing with her sister-in-law Nadia, who objected to this marriage from the very beginning, was a daily struggle. Nadia’s disapproval of her brother’s marital union was purely racist-driven. She was ashamed to tell people that a young woman from the West was part of their family, so she kept Khadija isolated in her part of the house and forbade her from engaging in any family activities around the housh. Khadija was patient about all of this, but it was very gruelling for her especially since Emad was always away.

It was manageable for Khadija at first; she would wait for Emad to return home every few months and would then make the best out of it. The little quality time she would spend with him was well worth all the suffering she was forced to endure day to day. Khadija was beginning to get used to how things were, until a few months later she became pregnant. As much as she and her husband were ecstatic about welcoming a new baby into their family, Khadija couldn’t help but worry about their current living arrangements and their financial situation. Emad did not make much money, and with the baby due they would not be able to afford basic things like food and electricity.

Khadija found herself taking matters into her own hands. She started working privately for women around the neighbourhood as a beautician. With her stomach expanding, she still managed to circulate around the area, going door-to-door offering her services to married women. She would wax, scrub and sell her home-made natural face scrubs, and shortly after her business took off.

Initially, Emad was typically not happy about his wife working and occasionally bringing in more money than him. But as life got harder and basic commodities became more expensive, he eventually accepted it. In a week’s time, Khadija would earn more money than her husband does in a month. Things were looking up for the young couple as Khadija’s business bloomed.

After giving birth to Ahmed, the young boy found himself dragged to his mother’s beauty calls at a very small age. She was unable to leave him at the house unattended, and Nadia refused to do any babysitting for her while she worked. Predictably, Nadia was very critical of Khadija’s job, and at times expressed her jealousy in unsubtle ways.

While Nadia thought of Khadija’s job as demeaning, Khadija didn’t care. All she was concerned about was maintaining her customers, who loved her pleasantness and soft-spoken nature and often tipped her well.

Singlehandedly, Khadija was able to support her child and help out her husband. Like any young Darfurian woman with big dreams, she came to Khartoum expecting to lead a normal life away from the depressions of the war and the harsh circumstances back home. Instead, she was met with discrimination, punitive living conditions and desertion. While this may have been enough to shatter the hopes and dreams of any woman in her shoes, Khadija persevered and beat all odds, and did not care for or respond to racism and intolerance, as ‘hate’ was not a word in her vocabulary.

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Sudan, I love you.. but you're taking a toll on me [2]

As I was preparing for my return to Sudan in 2003, I had mixed emotions. I was filled with excitement, intrigue and curiosity, yet I was also a little afraid. I had heard one too many stories from my Sudanese high school friends about women who got lashed for wearing pants (and in some scenarios the women got beaten and raped by the police). Of course I had no idea how authentic these stories were, but given I was about to embark into a new journey in a country I was pretty much alien to, it was best to arrange for my conformation process. I bought a wardrobe full of new clothes–which mainly consisted of long sleeve shirts, long skirts and huge scarfs. I also stocked up on body cream, shampoo, deodorant, hair cream, perfume and other beauty products which I was led to believe were unavailable in Sudan due to the embargo. [I had later on learned that everything was available at the McNimir pharmacy and a tiny little shop in Riyad called Oxygen–but more on that later.]

I packed my bags and headed to the airport with my entire family–a custom that until this day exists in my family and in every other family that considers itself Sudanese. My mom gave me the most dramatic goodbye; she hugged me for what felt like hours and for some reason I had a sinking feeling that this was the end for me and that I was never going to see my family again. [I was sooner proved wrong because after spending only four months in Sudan I hopped on the first plane back to UAE where again, my whole family was waiting for me at the airport.]

I made it to Khartoum, and though I had lived in one of the most humid cities in the world almost all of my life, I felt death was near after being attacked by a blast of hot air upon stepping out of the airplane. At the airport it seemed like everyone was looking at me funny… and that’s when I realized my tar7a wasn’t on my head and quickly put it back over my head to avoid dirty looks. [Believe it or not, eight years ago it was even worse than it is now.]

I enrolled at what was deemed as an English-medium university; after which I quickly learned it was just figurative speech–what they had really meant but failed to deliver was that the exams were in English (English that was riddled with grammatical and spelling mistakes, but English nonetheless). The language spoken, however, was an interesting breed between English, Sudanese Arabic and a hint of Indian English for some reason. During my five years there, most of my professors had poor English and often said stuff like ‘oben za light’, ‘iggzil sheet’, and ‘home wairk’. I made great friends who taught me the secrets of the shoulder-tar7a… which basically meant I didn’t have to wear the tar7a over my head as long as it was there resting comfortably on my shoulders. To me, this was like finding gold.

(to be continued)

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Sudan, I love you.. but you're taking a toll on me [1]

I remember eight years ago when I made the decision to return to Sudan to pursue my college education. My experience with living in Sudan was limited to a 2-month summer vacation almost every year, where visiting the neighbors was as close to being wild and adventurous as I could get. Still, during my childhood years I was fascinated and intrigued by what “Sudan” was; that marvelous, vast and dirt-infested country, home to many rakshas, Ethiopians and amputees that until recently was the largest country in Africa.  I constantly bombarded my parents with endless questions about our culture and history, and essentially bored them with my infinite gibberish which I considered as 'ideas to improve Sudan'.

Spending weeks every summer with my family at the big house AKA the housh, I wondered if there was more to Sudan than the family gatherings, social visits, weddings and funerals, feasts and food trays, flavored tea and jabana, mint candy and dandurma, tiny crystal balls of billy for kids, captain Majid biscuits and jersey chocolates, glass-bottled pepsi, resident cats, stray dogs and goats… the list could go on. I loved these things and often marveled at them (except for the funerals of course, that would be just weird), but as I grew up I couldn’t help but question if there was another Sudanese realm which I had no access to.

I wanted to know everything about everything… why did most of the neighbors splash their stinking sewer water on the street? If al-Jack was Sudanese then why does he look so different and why is he ironing our clothes, also what’s up with his name? Why does my grandmother’s face look so weird and missing a significant amount of skin, and why is her lower lip dark blue? Why are the roads filled with so much dirt? Why does the power keep going off for hours everyday? Why is having running water everyday considered a luxury? Why do random people keep asking me about my tribe? Why aren’t my female cousins allowed to wear pants? What’s that smelly black stuff my uncle rolls up in a ball and probably swallows? Why is there no air conditioning or telephones? Why is it so freaking hot?

It took me some time to figure out some of the answers, and funnily enough, a decade later I still muse about the rest…

(to be continued)

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At The Heart of Sufism (Part 1): Sufi Orders and Practices in Sudan

There’s a common belief in Sudan, “If a family does not have at least one Sufi member, it’s not Sudanese.” This may indubitably be the case, granted that Sudan has more Sufi Muslims than any other country in the world, and the number is expanding. Sufism is noticeably entrenched in the Sudanese community, and many think of it as a way of life. ‘Zikir’ (exercises of remembrance) and ‘madih nabawi’ (poems in praise of the Prophet) are often heard on the streets, in public buses and taxis, in shops and restaurants, and on local radio stations and television channels. ‘Zikir’ and other Sufi practices form part of the weekly Sufi rituals which bring together Sufis from all walks of life, regardless of class and other differences. Although these rituals are at times lengthy and strenuous, many engage in them with the belief that it is the ultimate form of spiritual worship, which will lead them to draw closer to God and to more fully embrace His divine presence in their lives.

The Emergence of Sufism in Sudan

Many historic accounts suggest that Islam made its impact in Sudan through the activity of Sufi orders. The orders first came to Sudan in the 16th century, and began to expand and take root two centuries later.
There are as many as a dozen Sufi orders in Sudan. While some are restricted to Sudan, others are widespread in Africa and the Middle East. Several orders are derivatives of older orders, and were established by men who made major or minor alterations to the practices of the orders to which they had formerly been linked.
Sufi orders reached all parts of Sudan until, according to some commentators, they reached about five main orders and several secondary ones. The most common ones are al-Qadiriyya with its multiple branches, al-Samaniyya, al-Shazaliyya, al-Tijaniyya, al-Mirghaniyya (al-Khatmiyya), al-Mikashfiyya, al-Majzoubiyya, al-Burhaniyya, al-Idrisiyya-al-Ahmadiya, al-Rashidiyya, al-Ismailiyya, al-Mahdiyya (al-Ansar) and the Naqshbandiyya.

Sufi Orders in Sudan

1) Al-Qadiriyya Order: Al-Qadiriyya is the most widespread and popular order in Sudan. It was founded by Abdelqadir al-Jilani in Baghdad, in the 12th century and was introduced to Sudan by sheikh Tajeldin al-Buhari at the beginning of the Funj state (a loose confederation of sultanates and dependent tribal chieftaincies drawn together under the suzerainty of the Kingdom of in southern Nubia in 1504).
2) Al-Samaniyya Order: A branch of the al-Qadiriyya order, the al-Samaniyya order was founded by sheikh al-Samani who is now buried in Medina. The order emerged in Sudan during the early decades of the Funj state via al-Sayed Ahmed al-Tayeb Wad al-Bashir.
3) Al-Shazaliyya Order: Founded by Imam Abu Hassan al-Shazali, the teachings of al-Shazaliyya order spread in Sudan before the reign of the Funj state, through Sheikh Khojali Abdelrahman.
4) Al-Tijaniyya Order: This order was established by Sheikh Ahmed al-Tijani in Morocco. It eventually penetrated Sudan in the mid-19th century via the western Sahel. It reached Northern Sudan, particularly the city of Berber, by the end of the Turkish reign through Sheikh Ahmed Mukhtar. It also spread in Darfur, west of Sudan.
5) Al-Mirghaniyya Order: Also referred to as al-Khatmiyya, the al-Mirghaniyya order is derived from both the Naqshbandiyya and the al-Shazaliyya orders. It was established in the early 19th century by Mohamed Othman al-Mirghani and settled in Sudan by the end of the Funj state’s reign through al-Sayed Ali Mirghani. The order originates from Sheikh Ahmed Bin Idris, a religious teacher in Mecca who sent his student Mirghani, to Sudan to spread the teachings of Islam. This order was well-received by political parties in Sudan and played a major role in the political history of the country.

The Sheikh, the Massiad and the Khalwa

In Sufism, a sheikh, a master or a ‘wali-Allah’ is believed to be divinely-guided and incapable of sin. An early Sufi sheikh, named Abu Yazid Al Bistami, is frequently quoted as saying, “He who has no sheikh, his sheikh is shaytan (the devil)”. This is a common belief among Sufis who condemn and harshly criticize self-proclaimed Sufis who do not belong to a specific order and do not follow a particular sheikh. No different from Sufis of other nationalities, Sudanese Sufis believe the sheikh acts as an intermediary between them and God.
The ‘massiad’, (the home of the sheikh of the order), and the ‘khalwa’ (which translates to solitude) where the Quran is memorized and the secrets of the order are learned, are the centers of the order. Each order has its own hierarchy with the sheikh at the top of the pyramid, usually followed by his successors. At the ‘khalwa’, the elite of dervishes or ‘hairan’ (followers) completely devote themselves to the order, and isolate themselves from the outside world for the sake of learning the secrets of the order, under the guidance of their sheikh.

Sufi Rituals and Celebrations

Zikir (remembrance) represents the essence of Sufi practices. Some historic accounts suggest that Sudanese Sufi orders introduced distinctive African elements (that are not present in other Sufi countries) in to zikir rituals of Sudan.

The ‘zikir’ exercises include reciting prayers and passages of the Quran and repeating the names or attributes of God while performing physical movements. Each order’s ‘zikir’ varies from the other according to the modus operandi established by the founder. Singing and dancing are also incorporated, and the outcome of an exercise, which may extend to hours, is often a state of ecstatic abandon.
Sufi rituals of the al-Samaniyya order, one of the largest orders in Sudan, are performed for hours every Friday. The al-Samaniyya followers meet during Friday prayers, all of them dressed in white ‘jellabiyas’ (traditional male garments) with leather belts across their chests, denoting their dedication to the order. The ritual, held at the al-Samaniyya mosque and led by sheikh Mohamed al-Tayeb, marks the presence of dozens of male followers lined up in a highly organized fashion, chanting the words ‘la ilaha illa Allah’ (there is no god but Allah) while the women join in upstairs.
While some Sudanese people choose to gain religious zeal through the al-Samaniyya order’s somewhat orthodox ‘zikir’ practices, others tend to lean towards non-traditional Sufi rituals that, on the surface, may seem more fun, entertaining and appealing. The Hamad al-Neel cemetery—a vast, dun-colored cemetery in Omdurman—is the headquarters of the al-Qadiriya order in Sudan and was founded by sheikh Hamad al-Neel, who is buried at a nearby mosque. The expanse serves as an attraction for tourists and photographers due to the nature of the order’s rituals, which combine African heritage, dance, music and colorful attire.
On Friday at 5 pm, the cemetery fills up with people of all ages, ethnicities and walks of life who come to be a part of the rituals, while tea sellers and pamphlet vendors surround the area around the tomb site. The dervishes are dressed in red and green, patchwork, leopard-prints or flowing white ‘jellabiyas’ and ‘immas’ (turbans). Some sport dreadlocks, amulets and talismans, and others don on colorful hats and enormous strings of prayer beads. Standing barefoot above the sand and under the heat of a sizzling sun, a few men pick up the rhythm on their ‘tambours’ (drums) and chant ‘zikr’ melodically while the crowd swells palpably, grooving to the rhythm. A fragrance of rich and distinctive frankincense fills up the atmosphere.

Photo: Ayman Elkhidir

As they sing harmoniously, the dervishes build up into a ritual frenzy and other followers crouch, bob and pump their arms in synchronization with the chants. Some spin in trances, some freestyle and some dance side-by-side in large circles. As sundown approaches, the dervishes reach a final sustained and jubilant tempo then stop for prayers. Lying flat on the ground in a reverie-like state, some of them embrace what they refer to as spiritual ecstasy.

Remembering the Prophet (PBUH)—the Sufi way

One of the largest gatherings in Sudan is the annual celebration of ‘al-Mawlid al-Nabawi’ (the Prophet’s birthday). Celebrated by Muslim countries around the world and marked as an official holiday in many of them, the ‘Mawlid’ in Sudan is commemorated in a festive ambience and involves ‘zikir’, ‘madih’, drumming sessions and other forms of performances.

The open-air venues are decorated with lights, floors are furnished with prayer rugs and Sufi flags are positioned all around the area. From children who enjoy the assorted sweets and candy in the shapes of brides and knights in horses, to adults who sip sweet tea and engage in the Sufi ceremonials, to travelers, tourists and photographers who attend to experience the local religious carnival, the ‘Mawlid’ is attended by people from all ages, orders and ethnicities. The ‘Mawlid’ even welcomes non-Sufis, who are often present in large numbers. The richer members of the community donate food, and the less fortunate mingle with the rest, enjoy free meals, juice and tea, and join in the chants.
While each Sufi order has its own distinct style, all are, to an extent, similar in terms of their impeccable hospitality, generosity and provoking a mood of spiritual joyousness among the masses.

This article was first published here

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I dream..

I dream of running away
To somewhere where I’m not known or recognized
Where life seems tolerable, and all my past is forgotten
Where the grass is as green as it could ever get
And the tunnel is just beaming with light

I dream, because I know it’s nowhere to be found
At least not in this dunya that is riddled with hate
So I close my eyes and envision...

A place larger than life, besieged by beauty
Overwhelmed by peace, love and acceptance
It knows no sadness or tears, no anger or fury
No confusion, disappointment, hatred or ire
Just peace, love and acceptance

But before I know it, it’s time to wake up.

Refugees in Eastern Sudan: On a Transitory Route to Freedom

Over the past 40 years, thousands of refugees from Eritrea and Ethiopia have been flocking in to Eastern Sudan – a region where the Taka Mountains with their rocky, majestic peaks are located. Fleeing grim political, economic and social conditions, they stream every month into neighboring Sudan, which is known for its open-door policy on refugees.
With most camps located in Eastern Sudan, most refugees opt to settle in camps situated in the state of Kassala, while some relocate to Khartoum in pursuit of employment and better opportunities. For many of them, Eastern Sudan is merely the first among many stops in a lengthy migration process and is no more than a transitory route to freedom.

The First Arrivals and the New Influx

Up until 2004, Sudan hosted over one million refugees who came during the First Eritrean Civil War in the 1970’s. Over the years, many of the displaced Eritreans either returned to their homelands, or moved on to other neighboring countries. Those who were left behind or chose to remain – numbering around 60,000 refugees, with 60% of them being children – re-built their lives in refugee camps and successfully integrated into the surrounding community. Their integration came naturally as they share the same background as the Sudanese locals, speak the same language and practice the same religion – Islam. Along with their children, who were born in Eastern Sudan, these refugees consider themselves to be authentic Sudanese.

Since 2005, another wave of refugees have been introduced to the region. The Shegerab Refugee Camp, often referred to as ‘Little Eritrea’, is a camp that sits at the end of an unpaved road in Eastern Sudan, and receives 1,600 to 1,800 new arrivals every month. The majority of these new arrivals are young and educated Eritreans, Ethiopians as well as Somalis between the age of 18-25 who flee military regimes and consider Sudan their launching pad towards a new life.

The rest come from the Eritrean Highlands and are Christians who do not speak Arabic and do not share the same background as the Sudanese people – and hence they do not encounter the same ease of integration as the first arrivals. They face difficulties blending in with the community, and shortly after their arrival they cross over to other countries like Egypt, the Middle East, Israel and Europe in a quest for acceptance and better opportunities.

Until recently, most of the refugees were young students and national service escapees. More recently, refugees include teachers, soldiers, civil servants, army commanders and professionals of all ages. Each one of them has horrific story to relate – stories of arrest, torture, witnessing the death of others, fear and escape. Not only are these stories brought into the camps, but sometimes the same realities are repeated too with arrests, robbery, rape, violence and harsh living conditions all featuring in the daily lives in the camp.

The UNHCR and the Refugee Commission

For the last 40 years, UNHCR – the UN refugee agency - has been funding and providing most of the basic requirements at the refugee camps, including facilities such water, sanitation, schools, clinics and shelter.

“For the past 40 years, Sudan has been kind to refugees with its open-door policy. What we, the UNHCR do is step up our efforts together with the Sudanese Refugee Commission to grant refugees citizenship. Many of them have been living in Sudan for decades and their children were born here... they feel Sudanese, they behave Sudanese, they should be identified as Sudanese,” said Felix Ross, a Senior Protection Officer at the UNHCR in Kassala speaking to “Islamonline”.

“We believe refugees contribute a lot to the economy of Sudan. They often work as waiters and drivers, and the women take up jobs as housemaids. They are part of the economy here, and a lot of them are young, intelligent and educated,” he added.

Compared to that of exercising one’s right of return, Sudanization it seems is the better alternative. Refugees who flee in order to escape National Service (i.e. military service which is mandatory on men and women), and political repression are often subjected to imprisonment, life imprisonment and may even face death upon their return. The UNHCR and the Sudanese government have expressed the view that the penalty accorded to returnees is unproportional to the act and identify it as a human rights violation; and therefore acknowledge their status as refugees.

Another phenomenon that has been on the rise lately is the abduction of refugees, who cross over to Khartoum. These abductions are carried out by smugglers who are heavily armed criminal groups, who often abduct the refugees and demand ransoms ranging from $1,000 to $10,000 from the refugees’ relatives. Hostages are mistreated, beaten and threatened, and the women are raped. They are also often killed.

“We see such cases 20-30 times a month, but we believe we only see the tip of the iceberg” said Ross to “Islamonline” and added, “It has become an industry for these criminal groups to make a lot of money out of these abductions, and we are trying our best to combat them”.

In addition to UNHCR, the Sudanese Refugee Commission offers numerous services to refugees. Funded by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), it provides them with aid such as medical assistance and scholarship programs.

In the capital

In the capital Khartoum, thousands of refugees are packed into the popular neighborhoods of Al-Daim, Al-Gireif and Al-Sahafa. They do odd jobs and many of the young women make a living, cleaning houses.

Abdelrahman drives an amjaad (local rental cab) around Khartoum to make ends meet. “I came from Eritrea 10 years ago because I didn’t want to enroll in the army. If the government allowed us to continue our education and have jobs I would never have left. I do okay in Khartoum and there’s a large community of Eritreans here, but I’m just waiting for the arrival of a new regime in Eritrea so I can go back and see my family. I miss them,” Abdelrahman said to “Islamonline”.

F.A. was a police officer in Ethiopia, but he fled to Sudan in 1995 due to problems with the regime. He is now living and working in Khartoum. “I have a good job and a good life compared to other refugees. I consider myself very lucky. I went into exile because of the military regime in my country. Ethiopia claims to be a peaceful and democratic country, it does not even recognize that there are so many Ethiopian refugees around the world,” he told “Islamonline”.

“Generally I feel protected, but I feel the Sudanese people are the ones protecting me and my people, not the government, not the UNHCR or any other organization. Sudan is my home, I feel very comfortable here even though it is very difficult for me to be away from my family. It has been 16 years since I left, and I am waiting for an opportunity to arise for me to go back. If I return now, I will be considered a political criminal and will be persecuted for deserting the military,” he remarked.

This article was first published on IslamOnline.net

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Sudan celebrates its first Ramadan after the secession

The holy month of Ramadan is celebrated in a festive atmosphere across the states of Sudan; it is both an Islamic and a cultural event. Throughout the month of Ramadan, the Sudanese capital of Khartoum becomes a beacon of spirituality that is merged with rich culture and traditions.

Sudan celebrates its first post-split Ramadan

For the first time in history, Sudan celebrates Ramadan this year as half a country. Following South Sudan’s official secession on July 9th, 2011, North and South Sudan have since become two independent countries, with South Sudan becoming the world’s newest and 193rd nation.

Despite the issues subsequent to this split—including loss of diversity and resources—the peoples of these two countries are hopeful for the dawn of a new era that is filled with both peace and a better living.

In an attempt to overcome the agony of this historical decree, the people of Sudan are riding on the coat-tails of Ramadan, rejoicing the arrival of this month, and engaging in their customary Ramadan rituals and traditions.

For the minority of South Sudanese Muslims still living in Sudan, however, the case is a different one. This year, they spend their Ramadan nights supplicating to Allah that their lives do not get disrupted any further. Unidentified by both the North and the South, these minorities are caught in the middle of a dilemma, with one of the possible scenarios being their ultimate statelessness. Conversely, they attempt to lead a life as normal as possible, and they mark the month of Ramadan with abstinence, prayer and piety.

Fasting during the day: A 30-day challenge

Located adjacent to the Sahara Desert, Sudan is known for its year-round warm and dry climate. The biggest challenge faced during a fasting day is bearing the sun’s incredible heat and battling with thirst.

With many citizens making a living on the road, such as amjaad (rental cab) drivers, sometimes the heat takes a toll on them. “I work fewer hours during the day in Ramadan, there is less work anyway,” remarked amjaad driver Khalifa while speaking to “Islam Online”. “I have no air conditioning in my car, and the traffic gets hectic during the day. That’s why I prefer to work at night, right after taraweeh prayer,” he added.

Charity Projects: Catering to the less privileged

Sudan boasts many charitable organizations that are active during this month. Usually run by volunteers, they target those who are unable to afford basic food products, particularly in light of the considerable increase in food prices that was mandated by the Sudanese government a few months ago.

“To Sudan with Love”, is one such organization. Started by a small group of friends in 2008, it has grown over the past three years and bridged good-willed people from around the world who share one aim—to give back to Sudan.

“If you look beyond the once biggest country in Africa’s fancy buildings and glistening lights, the less privileged are not hiding in dried up ditches or abandoned homes, they’re right in front of you and one cannot disregard what’s in sight,” said Enas Suleiman to “Islam Online”, an administrator and co-founder of “To Sudan with Love”.

“This year we are targeting needy families in various rural areas. These families will receive hampers consisting of food essentials like flour, sugar and dates. Should we surpass our target during this blessed month inshallah (God willing), our team and kind volunteers are ready to cover more ground for additional hamper distributions and deliver packaged iftars (breaking fast meals) to mosques, hospitals and other rural areas. We are grateful to Allah and are humbly hoping to be the centre that connects the right hand of the more privileged to the left hand of those who aren’t, especially during the month of giving,” she added.

On the other hand, other volunteer groups aim to focus on providing iftars for patients and family members who travel from rural areas to Khartoum in pursuit of medical treatment for their loved ones. Hospitals are usually packed with patients, family members and visitors who, amid the chaos and frustration of their situation, often forget to break their fast come Maghrib (sunset) time. In most cases, they can’t afford to leave the hospital and they have nowhere to go. Volunteers make it their task that each and every one of these people breaks their fast and gets a decent meal.

43-year-old Bakhita Ahmed has come all the way from Al-Damazin, the capital city of Blue Nile State with her 5-year-old son. In Khartoum, her son was diagnosed with a heart disease. Since then, she has been sleeping in the hospital because she doesn’t want to leave him by himself.

“Being here in Ramadan is a struggle. I want to be with my children and husband making them the food they like and going to the mosque to pray taraweeh,” said Bakhita.

Instead, she is sprawling to feel the arrival of the holy month of Ramadan at the rundown children’s hospital in downtown Khartoum. Nonetheless, Bakhita is grateful for these volunteers who change the mood at the hospital by their selfless kindness.

In addition to such numerous volunteer organizations, the Sudanese streets witness the unlimited kindness of strangers who generously give out food and drinks to passers-by during azaan (prayer call) time. Those returning home from their jobs close to Maghrib time are often met by strangers who offer them drinks and dates to break their fast. In return, the volunteers hope for nothing more than the ajr (Godly reward) that results from quenching the thirst of someone who’s fasting.

Experiencing Ramadan: Between religion and culture

Cultural practices mark the practices of this month in many ways. Mass iftars are a common tradition held in copious regions around Sudanese states and cities, such as houses, mosques, workplaces and even streets.

A standard iftar meal features Sudanese soul food and Sudanese cuisine, ranging from aseeda, mulaah, while succulent home-made beverages exist in assorted types, such as the conventional karkadai, abrai, and helo murr.

Furthermore, taraweeh prayer is embedded in tradition to the extent that many men, women and even children make sure to attend it on a daily basis. The elders skirmish with their medical problems, joint pains and health issues and sit through eight to ten raka’as of taraweeh prayer and beautiful Quran recital.

This article was first published on IslamOnline.net

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Random Thought

I hope that one day you will forgive me for not being everything that you wanted me to be..

Happy belated birthday..

Stories from Our Reality: A Sudanese Widow's Blues

Last year, I had written a series of short stories, inspired from reality, which were published by a local newspaper. I came across them recently, and thought of sharing them on my blog. Here is one of them.

Stories from Our Reality
A Sudanese Widow's Blues

On her wedding day, Randa looked ravishing- she was a bride so beautiful people would stare and comment. Hussein could not keep his eyes off her, and she kept looking away in bashfulness. She whispered in his ear, “you’re staring, stop doing that it’s making me nervous,” and he just smiled at her, slyly. He knew right from beginning, he knew when he first saw her that she was the one for him.

Just weeks into their marriage, Randa and Hussein were living as one blissful newly wed couple. They spent every moment together, and could not stand even the thought of being apart. They enjoyed facing life together, and they were a mere example of an idyllic couple. Life was beautiful, and this marital union was heavenly.

As the months passed by, Randa and Hussein’s relationship grew stronger. They were deeply in love and intensely adored one another. There was no force in the universe that was going to break them apart; their bond was stronger than any force...
Or so they thought.

Eight months later, Hussein passed away after suffering from terminal cancer. He departed this life at the peak of his youth and left his beautiful young bride without a husband.

Hussein had indicators of cancer two years prior to his diagnosis, but he never told a soul. Only until his last days on earth and long after the diagnosis did he tell his wife and loved ones about his illness. The news hit everyone hard, and Randa was devastated.

The news of his death left Randa in a hysterical state. When she first learned them, she felt as though she was struck by a fierce lightning bolt; except her body was numb. She supplicated to Allah to make her suffer actual physical pain as opposed to this horrid feeling at the pit of her stomach. She did not want to believe her life partner was gone, she chose denial as a way to deal with his death.

The tears kept flowing like a river of sadness and grief. She sat there plunged in the profoundest grief that can come to the human soul, reforming in her mind the image of a man who had been friend, companion and lover during eight months of youth too dynamic and promising to be distorted by uneven fortune.

Day after day, week after week and month after month Randa was trying to cope with the death of her husband. She was trying to readjust her life and set it to a new mode, the mode of life as a widow; a mode she never thought existed until Hussein was gone.

Randa was a strong woman. She refused to embrace defeat in her life, and she rebuffed to accept the life of woe and sorrow. She got herself together and decided to go back to school. She needed to do something to keep herself occupied. Finally obtaining her college degree, she thought, she could find a job and become a working woman.

Little did Randa know that she was going to face even more hardships in her life after the passing of her husband. In actuality, she was a young, beautiful widow with a whole life ahead of her. Her family wanted to marry her to someone new, after all society’s acceptance of widows and female divorcees has always been slender.

Randa was finally okay to deal with life without Hussein, but she was certainly not okay with marrying someone else. She was still grieving the loss of her partner, a part of her soul was missing… how they expected her to marry someone else was beyond her comprehension. Despite her constant refusal of suitors, her family kept trying to set her up with a new man every so often. They were persistent, and they thought that if they kept pushing her that she would finally cave. But she never did, she stood her grounds and said no to each and every single one of them.

Right now Randa is in her final year at university, she will be graduating in a few months. Her soul is filled with hope of a new life and a new beginning. She is aspiring to become a successful career woman.

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Mal De Ojo!

Do you believe in the “evil eye”?

Living in a country with a culture filled with what some may call superstition, we often find ourselves facing the phenomenon of the “evil eye”.

The evil eye, also known as Mol de ojo, is a look that is superstitiously believed by many cultures to be able to cause injury or bad luck on the person at whom it is directed for reasons of envy or dislike.

For example, if a girl is wearing something pretty like a nice scarf, and another girl sees it, admires it, and looks at it with envy filling her soul- and perhaps wishes it was hers instead- she then gives her the evil eye. It could be intentional or unintentional.

Islam confirms the existence of the evil eye, but it also confirms that the only protection from it is God; not eye beads, eye jewelry and other such trinkets that are commonly believed to shield from the evil eye by many cultures.

Some may call me crazy, but I have actually witnessed the evil eye in action more times that I can remember. If you think of it, it makes absolute sense. Think about the story of this boy I knew from back in university- he was brilliant, and always used to rank first even though he never attended any lectures, and according to him, he only studied a day prior to the exam. Everyone was so envious of him, I mean, we all had to study way ahead of time just to get a passing grade! So, with all eyes on him and people wishing he would fail a subject for once, he finally did. Not only did he fail one subject, but he failed so many subjects that he had to repeat the year. After repeating the year, he kept failing until he got discontinued from the university. All thanks to the evil eye.

Another story is that of this beautiful girl, an old neighbor of mine, who had long, thick black hair. Her hair was always so beautiful it always look as though she just came out of the shoot of a shampoo commercial. People would always comment on how pretty her hair was, until one day she started noticing locks of her hair starting to fall all at once. It was inexplicable; there was no reason for her hair to be falling...except for, again, the evil eye.

The most common stories are the stories of evil-eye-stricken brides. This bride I knew once danced at her wedding at the traditional Sudanese event of “ragees al’aarous”. She had the longest legs I have ever seen, and her complexion was spectacular. Only weeks into her marriage, her legs caught fire during a “dukhaan” session. The most effective evil eye is the one that comes from multiple people gathered in one assembly, it is believed.

So yes, I do believe in the existence of the evil eye- in fact, you all should. Most likely, you and I have both been struck by the evil eye at some point in our lives; the effects are not necessarily instant. Also, the effects of the evil eye vary according to its severity.

My advice to you? Put God in your heart at all times. Envy and hate are too present in our world, face them with the best weapon of all time: love.

The 'Other' Poets

This guy wrote this article for Sudan Tribune, supposedly dissecting the lives of the Sudanese youth. I just feel like I need to remark on the paragraph that he titled 'the other poets'.

"The Other Poets"

Apparently there are real poets in Sudan, and 'other' poets, according to the writer- who seems to be the Master of poetry and the universal judge of all poets. After seeing a couple of posts on Facebook about certain lifestyle details (such as daily cosmopolitan interests) by young Sudanese men and women who welcomed him in Sudan and invited him to their lives and into their homes, he assumes their lives revolve around trivial, superficial matters which he refers to as 'artificiality in itself'.

According to the writer, the youth of Sudan betrayed their country by schooling overseas, and returned to Sudan but only to discuss shallow poetry over cupcakes and 'rebellious brunches' (whatever that means, as in brunch in a city like Khartoum is something extremely blasphemous).

He considers their spending time at cafes and leading normal lives (as normal as can be), performing normal activities, being normal in any form is both artificial and a delusion from the reality of the state that the country is in. His opinions, based merely on assumptions, state the youth of Sudan is not concerned with the ongoing war, perhaps aware of it but in some sort of denial.

Knowing this British writer personally, I feel obligated to say he did not bother to spend a few minutes with these people whom he referred to as the 'other poets' to know what they're really about... what their thoughts are, how they spend their free time, how they think, what interests them, what bothers them, the hardships they've faced, how the war has influenced them, etc etc.

Instead, he instantly judged them with the most amount of arrogance I have witnessed in all my 23 years of life, publishing an article based on zero facts and 100% prejudice.

I suggest, dear glorified writer, if you can't find a way to be impartial and nonjudgmental, that you immediately switch careers.

The youth of Sudan are intellectuals with perceptions deeper than your shallow self can ever imagine. We are aware of what's going on around us, and if you have taken the time to 'dissect' us properly, you would have figured it out.

But excuse us for disappointing you by trying to focus on the positiveness of life. We apologize that our nation recognizes modernness, etiquette and some sort of development, which seems to fail you significantly.

Dear glorified writer, in Khartoum, the youth perform normal activities as they do in England. We go to cafes, restaurants, gyms, open mic nights, yoga classes, dance classes, malls, picnics, recreational centers, shops, spas, and everything else you can think of.

Finally, I hope that by spending one year in Sudan (and not getting the most out of the experience, might I add) I hope that you at least feel that you fulfilled your 'goal', whatever that might be.. be it to brag to your friends that you lived in a developing country for a year and taught English, or some sort of self fulfillment that you did something 'good' for humanity.

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Royal wedding fever...

My friends came over yesterday to watch the royal wedding on TV. They brought goodies too- pizza, cupcakes, cheetos and even tiaras to set the mood... after all, it’s every girl’s dream to be a princess and have an elaborate royal wedding. Kate looked stunning, and her dress was simple yet so intricately designed. The first thought on my mind was wow those Brits are unadventurous; Kate’s dress was conservative to say the least. The only thing that caught my attention was the beautiful lace around the sleeves and on the back… but anyway, I don’t mean to hate, the dress was nice. Not royal enough for my taste but nice...

At first I thought this is how I want my wedding to be- exactly like that. But then I started thinking, Kate and her hubbie looked so nervous, and they had every right to be… they were aware of the fact that the whole world is watching their every move, must have been hectic for them... I don’t want that for sure.
And also, being a princess requires a lot of fakeness. These poor girls have to pose 98% of the time, it can’t be fun. As majestic as I used to think being a princess would be, I now can’t be bothered to dream about being one.

I don’t wanna sound lame, but I really enjoyed watching the royal wedding with my friends. I sat through most of it, up until the couple appeared from the balcony and had their first (and second) royal kiss.
I have to say the Queen ruined it for all of us when she abruptly decided to step inside and put an end to this royal wedding, like two minutes after the anxiously anticipated royal couple appeared on the balcony. Perhaps it was her nap time or lunch or something.

I particularly enjoyed watching what the royals and attendees thought passed for “fashion”. My favorite was some chick in a reindeer hat, she looked absolutely ridic. Yet I enjoyed watching it.

I leave you with this photo of a very reluctant bridesmaid.

Pain, anger and belief

It’s amazing how much a person can grow in such a short period of time. I for one give myself credit for growing so much in just a few months. I guess it all comes down to the circumstances that sometimes force you to grow and overcome them by any means.

To be honest I never thought the day would come when I would have to face the hardships that I did in the past few months. In a matter of seconds, good became bad, friend became enemy and the word time was synonymous with pain.

Every waking minute was pain… everything I did reminded me of pain. Everyone I encountered caused me pain. I never knew I was the melancholic type; at least not to the extent of shutting myself out from everything and everyone and becoming completely isolated. I hated the drama.

They say time heals all, and in my case this was partially true. Time heals because it makes you forget, but no power in the world can make you completely forget. So the fraction of memories I had left, painful as they were and still are, are engrossed in my mind and in my heart forever.

Everyone undergoes psychological pain – I consider it healthy to an extent. But at some point it does more damage than can be retrieved.

My pain became anger, I couldn’t contain it. No matter what the distractions, I always felt it. It consumed me for so long, I was so overwhelmed with it. I’m still angry, but mostly at myself. I thought I was angry at life, but I dismissed that thought a long time ago – life is what the Creator plans for each one of us.

Am I angry at the people who disappointed me and got me to where I am anymore? Not anymore, I’m way past that phase now.

I thank Allah for the gift of ‘belief’. I believe everything happens for a reason. I believe in fate. I believe in doing everything I can and leaving the rest to Allah. I believe in love, in friendship and in forgiveness. If Allah forgives all, then humans should be able to forgive others.

I will always believe.

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Hypocrisy

We’re all flawed – fact of life.

But then there’s those who preach against hypocrisy, and claim they are flawless,

Demonstrating to the world the extent of their perfection,

Pointing fingers at sinners, judging them in every way,

Veils on their heads, seeking people’s approval,

Politeness marking their voices, in pursuit of acceptance,

First ones at your door when you're in your time of need,

Helpful when you need them but you can't help but notice,

Whenever they are around, the conversations are about them,

Fishing for your compliments, like a child begging for candy,

But despite all your words, all your efforts to instill a sense of self-worth,

Your words aren't enough, they are just stripped from confidence,

Their biggest fear is being stigmatized,

So they force themselves to fit in, become the darlings of society,

Indulge in judging people, and set standards for conformity,

But secretly they are the opposite of this very conformity,

Such darkness in their hearts, nothing like you’ve seen before,

Waiting for a chance, when all the rules can be broken,

Becoming the very person they once ruthlessly arbitrated,

Without a care in the world, about what’s right or what’s wrong,

In fact come tomorrow, they would do it all over again,

And then gossip and chitchat, and pass callous judgments,

Not oblivious to their own flaws, they are fully aware,

Despite that very fact, the hypocrisy continues…

It’s a cycle, a vicious cycle of pretentiousness and posing,

To the world, they are flawless, not an error in sight,

Veiled hair, polite speech and the preaching never ceases,

What a cycle, so pretentious, so fake, so deceitful!

And the sad part is no one sees it, it’s such a programmed affectation,

And the cycle never ends, as it just picks up again,

Lying once again, with failed attempts of conformity,

Blaming their hypocrisy on the mandates of society,

Reasoning their insincerity with known customs and traditions,

Claiming their duplicity is a cultural dictation,

But I ask- Are your hearts so weak?

Allowing you to submit to your own cultural conspiracy theories?

Feeble enough to consent to take on such a dark path?

And walk along that gloomy road pretending it's so vivid?

If so, then I guess I'll prepare myself for your show,

I'll see a veiled head, a polite smile and a fakeness of respect,

But I'll know for sure soon as I turn my back, I'll be the victim of your judgment.

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Random thought

You're either a) a serious drama queen or b) one hell of a prankster; I genuinely hope it's the latter.

Breaking the silence...

Day after day and week after week, I watched in silence as you lashed out all your anger on me, pouring your feelings of hatred my way, bombarding me with sentiments of revulsion and disgust…

I watched in silence as you portrayed to the world how much I betrayed you, depicting to everyone how untrustworthy, backstabbing and conniving I am, adding your own flavor to stir the sequence of events a little…

I watched in silence as you supplicated to Allah against me, wished me death, desiring for me to break and hoping for my misery…

Day after day, I watched in silence… Convincing myself that it’s only a phase, in a few weeks it’ll pass, perhaps in a few months… but I kept the glimmer of hope in my heart, igniting it every day, despite your destructive attempts…

Day after day, I prayed to Allah to light both of our paths… and to give us the strength to overcome our ordeal… Knowing in my heart that you’re a river of forgiveness, an ocean of compassion, and will heal in just some time…

I prayed for our hearts to mend, for yours I prayed even more, knowing what I had done had hurt you so deeply.

When I thought the timing was right, I spilled out my feelings to you, trusting you will listen, trusting you will give me a sip from that river of forgiveness that I thought was your heart…

There I stood, facing you, admitting my mistake and certain you will listen, and actually really listen… but my words were in vain…

“I’m sorry I hurt you, it wasn’t my intention, people make mistakes, it wasn’t my intention.”

I can’t remember how many times I uttered these words to you, reserving that glimmer of hope in my heart, despite your continuous attempts to overshadow it, I still kept the hope…

I uttered and I uttered, I spoke and I spoke… but my speech was ever so useless, you are not the person I have known all of these years.

Word after word, I watched you dismiss me, dismiss my every thought, my every regret…

Apology after apology, you stood there with a heart even tougher than stone, rejecting every word that came out of my mouth…

Standing there in front of you, pouring my endless feelings for you… You stand there in front of me, and you are somebody else…

Who are you?

Certainly not someone I know or recognize, hardly any person I would refer to once as a friend… A best friend?

What did he do to you?

Did he drink from your river of forgiveness until he ran it dry?

Him or me?

You chose him over me, do you realize what you've done?

Does he even love you?

You say that he does, yet people in love don’t strip their lovers from happiness… they don’t take away their loved ones, their families, their friends…

Will you ever wake up?

I pray that you do, I know he had a hand in changing the you I used to know, and turning you into a new you that I don’t even recognize….

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