If she had to marry, she wanted a man who would accept her with her differences, or at least give her free reign over her own choices. Not one who would try to mold her into something she could never be.
Ijapa! (She -12)
Raufu Ayinla (She -11)
The white man would have to leave someday and we would need our own people to run this country they say is Nigeria. He, Raufu Ayinla Adeyemi, could be one of those people
‘Eid Mubarak!
On these blessed Days of this blessed Month, I ask Allaah for you and for myself - Al-'afuw and Al-'aafiyah, and for every good we find ourselves in need of. I ask the Lord of the Worlds to look upon ours with His Mercy and Benevolence, and remove from us every scourge we have wittingly... Continue Reading →
Iyawo! (She – 10)
Sidikatu Aduke lingered on the doorstep for a moment before crossing the threshold. May your stay in your new home be as wet earth – malleable and full of promise.
Beauty is… (She -9)
More than understanding the language, interaction with a Yoruba woman depends on the ability to recognize what was not said, to decipher her intonation, her body language, her eyes. Abeke had just received one ‘e n le’ too many!
On Identities
I sent this in on a lark, and it was selected!
By deenprogress
Labels,
From the moment of birth…
“It’s a Girl!”
Stay with us,
As we grow….
First-Born, Example-to-her-sibs.
Shaping us,
While malleable….
Smart; socially awkward; Bookworm.
Into Self.
We acquire some of our own…
Muslimah*, Munaqqabah*.
In this life of Meaning,
Relationships define us….
Mother, Daughter, Wife, Sister, Friend.
Yet, still, are those
Others seek to attach….
Generations-, Cultures-, Decades-thick
Truth, with her identical twin; Not-so-true
Who I should be.
These labels we wear, give, inherit, bequeath
Willingly, Unwittingly, Grudging, Proud
Burying the Human, Unique.
I peel; weary, wary
Affirming this, Rejecting that
Hoping, someday, to find; amidst it all;
Me.
“I write to tackle life from an African Muslim Woman’s perspective.” – the writer
South African Readers
My analytics tell me that most of the readers of this story are from South Africa, and my writer's mind cannot leave well alone. I appreciate you all.And I wonder...If you are from South Africa and reading this blog, please spare a moment to tell me - in the comments below - what you think.... Continue Reading →
Imale, the Muslims (She – 8)
‘How come I never see any of you at Jimo? Imam says not even your brother comes.’ It is early evening, when the sun has begun its daily graceful glide to its place of setting. After the torrents that heralded the rainy season, the downpours have subsided into regular pleasant showers every other day or... Continue Reading →
It takes a village… (She part 7)
Abeke learned another lesson in mothering her siblings. You had to be willing to do what was needed, however hard that might be.
Home… (She. Part 6)
The Yoruba say that home is where you rest from the (toil of) the farm
