Exploring Muslim Narratives Through Fiction
Hello and Salaam alaykum, If you're here, I'm assuming you're interested in my writing (or maybe not!) but I thought to compile the links for my essay-type non-fiction pieces in one place. Feel free to explore and leave me a line or two. Enjoy! Reclaiming Feminine Spaces and Bodily Autonomy as Muslim Women - https://themuslimwomentimes.com/2020/12/14/reclaiming-feminine-spaces-and-bodily-autonomy-as-muslim-women/What... Continue Reading →
From the moment he heard the baby’s wail almost a year ago, even before the portly matron came out to inform him that ‘congratulations, it’s a girl,’ he had stumbled into feelings bigger than he ever imagined.
#RekiyaAndZ is a significant book that carves a new space for the representation of sub-Saharan African Muslims in the contemporary literary world... Check out the latest review of #rekiyaAndZ on Hikaayat magazine http://www.hikaayat.com/mutiah-badruddeens-rekiya-and-z-carving-spaces-for-sub-sahara-african-muslim-fiction/
‘You managed not to fall into the arms of the first boy who whispered sweet nothings!’ His wife reared back as though slapped, then pulled her dignity about her like an invincible cloak. ‘Did I?’ She challenged him, holding his gaze without her usual demureness. ‘And really, you of all people should know better than throw stones.’
It was as though he sensed how intertwined their fates would become if their paths did cross. Almost like the rush of emotions that was enveloping him at this moment, bathing him in the glow of her restrained, radiant smile. ‘Oh, I remember you,’ he assured her.
Liadi especially loved the island. Eko proper or isale Eko as its inhabitants proudly proclaimed it, with the fierce protectiveness of a people who knew their place.
In Jilete, a woman may choose not to ‘marry’ the male relative of her dead husband assigned to her, but she would have to forfeit her place in his family.
Had Abibatu Abeke even been the sort of woman who valued people’s comfort levels in awkward social situations, she was certain that something about losing the man who was your anchor to societal validation would have cured her of the habit.
I picked up the new faux leather covered collectible copy I had splurged on a few months earlier, expecting a light read; something that should help me ramp up my descriptive game a notch while at it. No biggie. Gentle Reader, I was all kinds of wrong.
School was regimented enough with its insistence on rules and order that all he had to do was be at the appropriate places at the appointed times. With a mother like his, ’Toye had no qualms following regulation.
