CELEBRATING MARYAM AWAISU

15th August, 2015 was a very big day for me, sickle cell supporters, well wishers,  friends and family of Maryam Awaisu and Maryam Awaisu herself as she launched her very first novel on sickle cell titled Burning Bright. It is a fictional but extremely real and accurate story on the life of Nadia Habeeb who was born with sickle cell anemia, how she struggled with it, how her academics, work, social, family and even her love life were affected both negatively and positively by this genetically inherited disease. But, I'm not here to tell you, my dear readers, of the story but to celebrate Maryam whom I'm so very honestly proud of. Words can't, but will have to suffice in expressing my joy, love, respect and appreciation of this amazing, young, talented and humble lady.

I met Maryam Awaisu on line (Twitter; @Ice131Queen) when I was in Egypt in 2012 and I'm guessing it was under some sickle cell awareness campaign (very bad memory, I have). She was so excited by this blog and had apparently mentioned me to every family, friend and colleague who was willing to listen. And when I returned I was, still am being, overwhelmed by the degree of welcome, love and hospitality Mommy Awaisu showed me. I can say anywhere, no strangers (except in-law's) became family faster than myself and the Awaisu's. Now anytime I have to be in Kaduna, I have a home with no worries or stress. And it's all thanks to the way, amazing Maryam or rather, Maryamazing presented me to her family.

Now, I can't really tell you this or that particular thing about Maryam but on that day, 15th August, I discovered a lot of things I never knew with the exception of one thing I've always known about her; she is a kind, compassionate girl. So many people tend to disagree with me on that saying she's mean and evil but hey, who isn't? Anyways, all of us who were present on the book launch of #BurningBright and watched the slide show of her very young and very fruitful life were taken unawares, not really, but I was stunned, to say the least! All the good work she's done to help the needy and sick and how she's never bragged about them. For a person to organize an event to raise money for others is simply godly. It requires strength, patience, understanding and most of all very good health... Don't forget Maryamazing is a sickle cell patient and doesn't need stress... But she stresses herself so those less fortunate than her can have a day of hope or even weeks or years, when she can help it. We saw she's been her class valedictorian since secondary school days, even securing a scholarship to study in the United States of America which at this point, permit to say "Ahn Ahn, Wow!" How can you not be impressed by her?!

So much about her and so little I can tell you, but I'm not worried for good work gets its publicity by itself without much hassle and those whose lives she has touched and will still touch are forever never forgetting Maryamazing! As for me, I am eternally thankful for the day Allah pushed her in my direction so I could be a part of the first of many more special days to come, in shaa Allah and I know many people have said it but I am really very honestly and sincerely proud of her. And it is such a great honor to have been part of her special guests at the event and a part of her family.

I celebrate you, Maryam Awaisu. I love you and I am completely inspired by you!

PS: We're out of stock on hard copies of #BurningBright by Maryam Awaisu but you can order online for your digital copy on Amazon amzn.to/1Jj3ZBI. Thank you for the support 

JOURNEY OF A GOLDEN HEARTED SOLDIER

Fathoming what suffering really is can be very relative; depending on the type and degree of suffering one has experienced and had to deal with firsthand. For some it is waking up with a pounding headache, the prick of a thorn in their flesh, or the feel of something very hot upon their skins or tongues, while for others it is a lifelong experience of needles, pills, an endless array of hospital beds, moving and dealing with pains from the insides and outsides of their bodies on a daily basis.

The latter is the case of Bashir Sidi Ali, a 22 year old final year student of Kaduna state university. “I was diagnosed with sickle cell disorder when I was six months old, and ever since my life took a very painful turn. Haha! Actually it never turned, this is how it has always been.” Said Bashir, starting his story on how he has walked on thorns all his life.

Bashir, fondly called Snoozy by his friends and loved ones, like a lot if not all sickle cell patients, had what we can call a very rough childhood. His own case was especially different because the only kids that came close to him didn’t do so to play or be friends with him but to make fun of his big head and thin frame. Some kids even went as far as holding his hands just to measure how thin it was, measure the size of his head against his very thin neck. “Looking back, I can't even blame any of them. Why, they couldn’t understand why I was the way I was or why I was as weak as I was – I just couldn’t keep up. I couldn’t understand why I was that way either, I just knew I was different and weak because of my big head. Sometimes when all the kids won’t play with me I’d ask myself why my parents chose the kind of body they chose for me instead of a normal one. I’d cry myself to bed every single night. Haha! We were all just a bunch of ignorant kids.” Bashir went on. But like any other predicament with a bit of an advantage, Bashir always came top of his class in school because there was no one to play with even if he wanted to. He was always in class, studying and playing with what he refers to as his “one soldier circle of friends” – HIMSELF. But then like any and every other child, he wanted to have fun, participate in inter-house competitions, play football and police and friends with his mates among other things – he was jealous of the other kids. No one invited him to do any of those things, and even when someone did, he couldn’t keep up. Losing a 6 year old brother to the sickle cell anemia and having a tall, energetic younger brother who everyone mistook for his elder brother were especially heartrending for him while growing up. As the years went by, before moving to Kaduna from Lagos, Bashir had a few friends. “They didn’t always tell me what they were up because I couldn’t keep up with them. So it was just me trying to impress and forcefully play with them. But I couldn’t even be the imposer for long – I’d get tired after a moment’s try, slowly go to drink some water, and come back again. The struggle was tiring and endless.” Like he said, IT WAS ROUGH.

“As an adult I thought people would see beyond the blood disorder and accept me for who I am, but reverse was/and is still the case. I meet people and we start off great, they think I’m this great guy they can roll with and be friends with until they know I’m a sickler. I’ve lost so many friends, especially girls, to the fact that I’m a sickle cell patient that I’ve even lost count.” He went on, “but then those that are down with me, are down with me all the way. I’ve acquired friends that love me for who I am. We respect one another and are loyal to one another. And I think that’s all that matters in every relationship. But finding a woman that would love and stand by me is something I’ve almost given up on, to be honest. I don’t even see it happening.”

Bashir Sidi Ali describes sickle cell crisis as unendurable, heavy-handed, excruciating, and nearly unbearable. Like every sickle cell patient, Bashir invented a couple of tactics to help him ease the pain in times of crisis; “in times of crisis I’ll use a piece of clothing or a belt to tie the area of pain up or rest my weight on the spot when possible. Other times when I ache all over, I just shut the pain out in my mind and think of JANNAH (heaven). I believe whatever suffering I’m going through is a thing of this world, and I won’t take any of it with me when I die. So I just shut the pain out and picture myself doing, in heaven, all the things I couldn’t and still can't do because of my blood disorder and somehow it goes away. It’s going to be beautifully painless up there in shaa Allah.” When asked about the one crisis he would never forget, he said the one that lasted months on end. “It lasted for months back in secondary school. I couldn’t stand, talk less of walk – I was carried everywhere. My hands were off, my legs were dead. Sometimes I couldn’t even feel them. I couldn’t do anything then, and so I had to miss two terms. School didn’t even matter then because I knew I will always be left behind for the rest of my life. I thought I would never get pass that crisis. I suffered.”

Bashir Sidi Ali sings when he's not too busy with school or fighting sickle cell, and he does that very well too. He finds solace in singing. He refers to music as his safe place; a place he runs to even when all he wants to do is run away from the whole world and even from him. “Music is my biggest escape” said Bashir, “because hearing people say they love my songs go a long way in uplifting my spirit. I feel I'm not a loser and it helps my depressed self. It’s like I have something to do that is beautiful and people love me for it.” even a deaf, dumb, blind and lame man could hear, see and feel the joy radiating from his whole being as he spoke about his music. The sheer passion! “Music is my safe haven; even sickle cell can't find me in my safe place. Music to me is just rrrrrrrrrrrr.”

The fact that sickle cell patients have at a point, if not all their lives, had to deal with depression is an all too familiar news to everyone who has come into contact with an SCD patient. Having to deal with pain and sometimes even discrimination on a daily basis is bound to do that to just anyone, sickle cell patient or not. A lot of people when faced with difficulties for a period of time, in desperate need for serenity and comfort, fall back on drugs (either overdosing on prescribed drugs or self medicating). When I asked Bashir how he dealt with depression through the years, his reply clawed at my heart. “I still am a depressed person and I don’t think that is ever going to change. Over the years, my parents taught me better than to seek solace in drugs. It was and is still not on my list of option. Even in the hospital, in times of crisis, there is this pain relief injection; I would cry out for it when the pain becomes unbearable. My doctors, God bless their hearts; don’t always give in to my cries in a bid to make sure my body doesn’t get addicted to it. Till date I don’t even know the name of that injection, saboda tsaro.”

Bashir is evidently a person that sees the good in every situation, and as such is easily loveable by everyone and anyone that gets to know him. A golden-hearted soldier. He says the most credit for helping him hang on and actually fight sickle cell goes to both his parents; his father for always being ready to finance treatments and for giving him manly support, and his mum for always making sure he was comfortable even at the expense of her own comfort. “They are my support group. I'm sure they suffer the pain of seeing their child live the way that I do. They may not say it out loud, but I’m sure they suffer even more than I do. It has not been easy on them. But then Allah knows what’s best for all of us, and that’s what keeps me going. I just want to be successful in life. I want to be able to help people someday. That’s my goal and motivation – what keeps me going.”

Bashir sidi ali never talked about sickle cell with anyone for fear of being discriminated against and for other reasons best known to him. Until now he has seen no need to come out in the open and embrace his predicament. now it’s not just him; a lot of other people out there hide their genotype realities for fear of discrimination and maybe even fear of being labeled a weakling and a thing to be looked at with pity. They just want to be looked at and treated as any normal person would be – so they act normal, carrying their pains around with a smile and wearing their selves out in a bid to keep up with the rest of the world. I'm not saying sickle cell patients aren’t normal or that meeting suffering with a smile isn’t a good thing to do, but what if the whole world accepted them for what they truly are? I mean if you can see the substance a person is actually made of, how beautiful and loveable they are, their capabilities and resourcefulness as human beings without knowing their genotype or HIV status and what not, then you can love them regardless of what runs through their veins. What makes a person is not the type of blood that runs through their veins, it is what they carry in their hearts, their mindset, their strength and their overall attitude and approach towards life and the people they come in contact with, and frankly, sickle cell doesn’t affect any of those places. I have personally met a lot of healthy people with very sick attitudes – so accepting and loving someone goes way beyond the structure of their blood cells. I also don’t mean to belittle other people’s pains and struggles, but a sickle cell patient’s pain is second to none. Calling them strong doesn’t even begin to describe what they are. They are the strongest amongst the strong, warriors, fighters with hearts that never give up on hope – on life. So I call on whoever is reading this to help advocate against discrimination against sickle cell patients. Embrace them and support them in every way you can. There’s enough love in the world to go round, don’t deprive them of it. You never can tell whose sickle cell journey you can make easier by showing a bit of care. God bless us all!

I want to say a very big thank you to BASHIR SIDI ALI for trusting me with his story and letting me share it with the world. It has inspired me a great deal and I hope it inspires whoever reads it too. May God almighty continue to strengthen you and bless the work of your hands!

{To support, listen to and download Bashir Sidi Ali’s songs; go to https://notjustok.com/p/sirbash_ ++ If you're a sickle cell patient and this story has inspired you in anyway and you want to share your story with us, kindly contact 08050651935 or send an email to mimsado24@gmail.com. YOUR STORY CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE!!!}

EIDEIN FI YAUM (TWO CELEBRATIONS IN A DAY)

Eid Sa'eid my little one and a very happy birthday to you. And although I don't wait for a specific day to make Dua for you, I pray you are blessed so much with the right kind of people all the time every time who are there to lift you up when you're down, remind you of Allah's Magnanimity and Mercy, ameen. Today's the first of Shawwal, 1436AH which means its Eid el-Fitr and it beautifully coincided with your birthday, you're 6 years old today and I'm still in awe at how much you've grown! You'll always be the 5 days old pre-term baby with the yellow cannula stuck in her tiny hand supported by cardboard to me. Have I mentioned I love you?! I do! With all that is me and until my dying breath. You have brought me so much joy and happiness, doesn't matter that you're far.

You know what you are to me? You're the proverbial "light at the end of a tunnel". I always feel I'm in a tunnel with no way out and no hope and then I look up and there you are, shining brighter and more steady than the lights from a lighthouse. You keep me going forward forgetting my pain and loneliness. I think of you and I smile sometimes I laugh...oh how I've told the story of you over and over and over again! There's no doubt you are just the ultimate in my life.

This is a late post, I returned from Jaji so tired I only wanted to sleep. We had so much fun and you were really happy. Happiest I've seen you in a long time, may Allah keep you so all the time, ameen. Your mommy says you woke up really early waiting for me to bring your cake. Oh and you've began to loose your teeth, the lower incisor has fallen out and is already growing. I can't get enough of you, Sunshine and love. You are special for only a handful of people have their birthday's coincide with Eid. May we live in good Faith to witness more Eids and birthdays, ameen.

Have a blessed and beautiful love filled year. Ameen.

IN THE PSYCHIATRIC WARD

A sound mind in a sound body ~ Aristotle.

“Redemption song, that’s all I ever heard…the songs of freedom… redemption song” Hilda sang as she rolled a piece of paper, placed it between her lips, dragged in a breath and blew imaginary smoke making her grand kids and daughter laugh. Hilda wasn't this amusing when she was admitted, she was regularly making a rack, throwing her belongings, pouring out her drinking water, body spray, juice and just about anything she could lay her hands on, she also probably cursed, but in Kiswahili (she was Kenyan) and told the entire ward they are only good for ‘gulma’. She had to be put in the isolating room a couple of times just to ‘teach her a lesson’.  And I guess she did learn! Hilda got discharged a week before we did even though she came in a week after we did. This made me really want to slap in-sight into my sister’s head! Sometimes, Hilda would ask me for a pen and paper and she would write notes to her doctors apologizing and telling them she knows she has a medical condition and promises to stay on her medication plus how she really appreciates their efforts but she really wanted to go home. I don’t know much about psychiatry and if they can tell the truth from the lie but I think she just wanted to go home and not that she was going to carry on with her treatment but, I guess that’s really not for us to judge. Medical ethics does not allow for one to be retained after he/she has proven to respond positively to medications and is not a harm to themselves or the community, so Hilda was discharged.

Hajiya Maimuna spoke to herself; actually saying things which made sense only if you've been listening from the very beginning and even when you ask her what she’s murmuring, she tells you. She was a tad untidy with her belongings, clean, but untidy. I was frightened of her at first (I was frightened of all of them, including my sister….just saying!) Hajiya Maims was always in the bathroom, it became funny with time especially when the nurses were handing over duty, they go round the ward to each patient and explain to the one taking over the what, how and when of that patient. At Hajiya Maims’ space, you’d hear them screaming out her name “Hajiya Maimu, kina ina? Ki fito, ki gyara wajen kwanciyan ki.” And she would emerge from the toilet; I wonder why I never followed her to know what she did in there. I dunno how long she was before we came in but she was discharged 2 weeks before we were and guess what? Yep! She was brought back for being violent. Psychiatric cases are really one of the toughest and I have so much respect and admiration for the persistence of the doctors and nurses. Hajiya Maims was probably the kindest patient in the ward, she had no patient-relative with her (usually psychiatric patients hardly need them for they are physically fit) but she got visitors during visiting hours which I think cheered her up a lot. She shared whatever was brought for her and did not mind if any of her things got missing. I pray she is doing better now.

Farida just sat at the corner of her bed and said nothing to everyone all day. She only smiled a bit when the Sister teased her and when I realized she wasn’t so bad, I also began teasing her. At first she would look at me and just keep staring, it was unnerving but finally she relaxed and would smile at me too. I heard she never spoke to her doctors during ward rounds, many of the patients hardly do, they seem to not like them and feel they have been brought there as a form of punishment.  Her mother was staying with her; she was really very prayerful and kind. Farida, I was told, has had bipolar for a very long time, about 13 years after the birth of her last kid. Post-partum depression, like Amina, and like Amina, she keeps going on and off her medications. Apparently Farida would get violent and she had to be tied up, very sad. But Alhamdulillah her mother, whom we called Goggo, also believes orthodox medicine is a remedy for diseases.

Maman Abba had the tiniest baby (only second to my Oosha) I had ever seen, I think she came in for post-partum depression. But I heard (everybody talks about everybody to everybody in the psychiatric ward) when she was brought in, she didn’t want to hold her son and she would scream so loud (I didn’t get to ask what she screamed out). Anyways, by the time we came in, she was calm and was even backing her seriously-too-tiny-to-be-backed-baby! She was also quiet but not like Farida. I think she’s an introvert. Her husband came to visit daily and so did other relatives oh, her mother stayed with her since she was a ‘mai-jego’. I was just glad the husband didn't abandon her with the way many of our men and general African people treat psychiatric cases, you’d think it was a deadly contagious disease! May Allah open our eyes and hearts to accept and seek help for those we know suffer it.

There was Hajara, Maman Aisha, Sadiya who got better was discharged and then returned because she was harassing everyone and being violent (probably stopped taking her meds or it got mixed up or something). Blessing was discharged about three days after we were admitted. I don’t know why she was in there but physically, she looked so malnourished, she was weak and just skin on bones. She had intravenous fluid which most of the time was not fixed and even when the nurse came to fix it, she complained of being tired and wanting to rest…talk about having a choice!!!

And now, the reason why we came to the female psychiatric ward; Amina. She gave quite a tough time before she agreed to be admitted. The entire nursing students and staff, including the security guards had to be called into the room for her to realize she needed to be there because she needed help and urgently as well. Amina had a severe case of bipolar disorder (Mania and Depression). She was in a very bad place when I brought her in but today, Alhamdulillah, she is so much better. But till date, Amina does not agree she has a psychological problem, which in the medical world is called in-sight and due to the entire absence of this in-sight, we stayed about 6 weeks in the hospital. She was discharged because NARD was embarking on a strike, the one that got them all fired! (seriously LMAO) *clears throat* okay, back to Amina.

All the nurses seemed to really like my sister, we are a very likable family *polishes invisible The Most Likable Family medal* she didn't give them trouble at all, she took her meds when it was brought without complaining or excuses, she attended OT, occupational therapy which was a room filled with stuff to keep them physically and mentally busy considering they do nothing all day long. The room has computers, tread mills, sewing machines, a table tennis board and a television set, so when it Is opened, patients go in and pick an activity of their choice to engage in, my sister is a television lover and she engaged herself watching all the Arabic stations which I think maybe annoyed the rest of them who wanted to watch Hausa movies or something else. She was a good patient who obeyed not because she believed she had any problem but because she is just a good person who does things for the sake of peace.

Amina does not like Dr. A who is my favorite psychiatrist in the world! For he was the one who had her admitted like I mentioned earlier, he called in all the staff and students; his aim was to let her see it was not just my imagination or his wanting to admit her but that she actually had a problem everyone except her could see. I cried explaining to her why I lied about where I was taking her to and my reason, “Amina your shame is my shame and when people point and laugh at you, they’re pointing and laughing at me. And yes, you do not think anything’s wrong with you but I do and so does everyone else and I had to bring you here. I am so sorry.” She stared at me with daggers in her eyes I think if there were not enough people around, she would have hit me. She still carries the hurt of deception plus her paranoia and all what not but, Alhamdulillah, I did what had to be done.

Lights-out was by 22:00 hours and then we were locked in from outside. I could hardly sleep, the mattresses were solid hard, I was hot and there were mosquitoes. I remember preparing for my first semester exams so I came in with my books and read by the light of my handset when I couldn't sleep. Would wake by 03:00hrs have my bath and do the needful, by 06:00hrs the nurses would wake everyone up to prepare for the day, those who needed hot water to have their baths and then drink tea, take their meds and wait for the team whose day it was to have ward round. Psychiatric ward rounds differ entirely from other ward rounds, they have a room which has a couple of chairs for the doctors, the nurse, patient and patient-relative arranged in a semi-circle manner. The patient to be seen is called in by the nurse and if the patient-relative is around, she/he is also invited and “the interview” begins. First with the nurse, she/he tells the doctors on the attitude of the patient from the day they arrived till present day, the improvements, still-there and unchangeable character of the patient, what they feel might be done to help the patient then, the patient-relative is also asked questions, if he/she feels there is any improvement in the patient and if there are other areas that they could render their assistance to; psychiatry is a very personal and thorough unit, everything is investigated; parents, childhood, teenage hood, relatives and if possible, life after death *wipes sweat*. Then finally the patient is placed under the microscope, they ask and write (what are they writing? Can I see? I want to see *tears welling up in eyes*) and from this they draw their conclusion on whether the patient will remain or be discharged. I gathered they try to find out if the patient has started having in-sight into their problem, for; the having of in-sight is the beginning of healing in psychiatry.

IT'S YOUR WEDDING DAY!!!

It’s your wedding day.

The first day of a new life with your partner, your love, your friend, your confidant, your problem solver, your joy sharer, the one you have envisioned as the mother/father of your future kids. To be precise, your all in all.

It’s your wedding day.

A beautiful day made so by the beauty and bravery of two entirely separate families being brought together by two beautiful people, Tola and Tosin. Two people who decided, together, to take one of the biggest leaps they’ll ever take. Two people who have seen, together, their future in all its triumphs and failures and decided, still, to take that great leap. Two people coming together of their own free will to start a new generation with much joy, laughter and blessing.

It’s your wedding day.

A day filled with sweet words and promises, a day you will always have to look back on when things get hard, for remember, it is easier said than done. But with the memory of the sparkle in her eyes and the broadest, sincere smile on his face, you will be able to get through it, together. A day which marks the beginning of when humans and even God  tests your love, patience, endurance, sincerity, maturity, honesty and everything good you have always said you’ll both be to each other.

It’s your wedding day.

Just a day! No, not just a day. Just a formal celebration of your marriage. Yes, that’s the important message of the day to you both; while the wedding is for us all, the marriage is for just you two, together, forever. And forever is not a very long time when times are good and smooth. Forever is the longest of times when the going is rough and tough. But then, where’s the beauty in love when it’s not tested to be tried and trusted?! So after today, never forget today no matter how bad things may get. Always remind yourselves of your bravery and tough love for each other.

It’s your wedding day.

I am a firm believer in love and of love. It is especially true when you've both known your differences and decided to make it work, together, by accepting, respecting and appreciating each others’ views. When your similarities are what brought you to this day, your wedding day!

It's your wedding day.

SMILES TWINKLES LOVE AND SPARKLES

So many things to say but yet no perfect words to construct because you've already made today beautiful by making it your day, your wedding day! Therefore with all happiness and love I say; have a blissful life together even when it looks bleak, the bliss will be in holding each other’s hands tightly and comfortingly saying silently “I remember my wedding day, our wedding day so I won’t let him/her go. This is what we got together for.”

23^rd August, 2014. It’s your wedding day; Omotola Balogun and Oluwatosin Abegunde. May we live to celebrate your 50^th wedding anniversary as I dedicate my 50th post to your wedding day! *wink

5 DAYS TO 5 YEARS OF ABDALLAH T. AISHA

When you ask my little girl her name, she says “my name is Abdallah T. Aisha” very military like, so adorable too! She’s going to nursery two when the new session starts and she turned five years today. I’m absolutely beaming from ear to ear! May Allah preserve and guide her throughout her life, ameen.

It seems only a couple of weeks ago when I first held her in my arms at 5 days old and I've been hooked and dragged along day by day by her natural charm. I never get tired of telling the stories, never! But, there are new stories to tell now and sadly I'm missing being a part of those stories, even though Mommy and the Major try to fill me in now and then, experiencing it firsthand would have been so much better and memorable. Still, I’ll have to make do with the stories.

Today is not a day to moan or complain it's a day to celebrate and thank Allah for my baby girl that told me point blank she's no longer a baby! Today we mark five years of Aisha Abdallah *releasing balloons and confetti, cheering!!! Kids really grow up fast when you’re not watching! Lol it’s a bit alarming I must say for I clearly remember me telling her not to grow up again after she turned one. She didn't even pretend to listen! I’m mega glad she didn't. Hearing her talk and laugh, watching her eat and smile, seeing how much of her person she is becoming makes me so elated. She has no time for nonsense, bosses her older brother about and their dad even said she sometimes makes him cry (really LMAO) the girl has a lot of her father in her! But at the same time, he says Aisha always loves being with her brother and his absence makes her worry and begin to look for him. Whatever she gets, she makes sure her brother equally gets and if there’s only one she shares hers with him. Now, that’s me in her! I have to be sincere, I love that combination; tough yet caring. She is molding her person very beautifully, Masha Allah, Alhamdulillah.

Mommy told me a story of a time when the Major came home with chocolates for the kids and she asked her for a piece from hers but because she didn't want to share, Aisha turned to her dad and said “Daddy, why didn't you buy for Mommy as well? You should go get her one because mine is almost finished!” I know, very smart little girl; got out of sharing by shifting the responsibility to her dad. Have I mentioned I love her since I started this story? Well I do. I love Miss Aisha Abdallah Tahir not to the moon and back, but for all eternity. She is a rare germ, infecting our lives with her vibrant nature and love.

Today, the 17^th July, 2014 falls the same day as the 20th Ramadan, 1435 AH again like last year, her birthday also fell in Ramadan. And again, this year like last year (but not for the same reasons), I won’t be able to celebrate her birthday with her. I had so much planned to do with her in less than 24 hours! We were going to watch FROZEN while I made her hair, we were going to take pictures, hug, kiss, and probably have a little mother-daughter-misunderstanding then hug again. I was going to put on her new dress, socks and shoes, then take more pictures. Sing the happy birthday song, blow the candles out then cut the cake, and dance with her in my arms. I was going to make up for the long months of not having seeing her. I guess I will just wait till when they return to celebrate a belated birthday! It’s never too late or too early to celebrate the child (or person) you love and boy do I love little Miss Abdallah!!!

I’m not particularly sad because I know her dad will still celebrate her… he knows the birthday drill!!! *wink. Alhamdulillah for another wonderful year of our little girl, Aisha!!!

HAPPY 5TH BIRTHDAY

Happy 5^th Birthday our Aishalicious Aisha!!!

I will use this opportunity to wish our Big Mummy; Dr. Olatunji, Zulaha Hadejia (@Xulahoo), Anisa Adam (@Mss_Treysongs), Mahmud Umar (@mdmoreks) and Sadeeq Henry (@igweeeeeee) a very, very happy birthday. May Allah make your coming days beautiful and filled with great faith, health, hope, love, happiness, smiles, more faith and everything Halal. Ameen ameen.

A LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER

Dearest Aisha,

                      I pray you are reading this message in an all-round-tip-top condition in sha Allah, and your studies are going great, both Islamic and Western. How are your siblings and friends? I pray you are all in good health and faith, in sha Allah. I am fine and happy and I miss you so very much. I wonder how you look like now that you're reading this. I wonder if I'm still alive and if I am, I wonder when I last saw you!?

Right now I'm writing this letter and it's been 2 months since I last held you in my arms. I miss all your soft, tender, lovable self. How I miss hearing your laughter, stroking you, oh and of course yelling at you *shame faced*.

I remember one time a couple of weeks before you left finally for Nigeria on 5th September, 2012 I beat the mercy out of you. I felt so bad. I went into the toilet and shed a few tears then came out after you had finished crying and gently spoke to you. I said I am sorry Aisha. It breaks my heart each time I have to raise my hand against you but you make me so mad and I don't like your granny spanking you all the time. I know you're a kid, want to play and mean no harm at all but still ... *kiss* I love you my Love and I am really sorry. You are my joy, sweetheart and to see you shed a drop of tear kills me. When you were a baby about 9 months of age, I dropped you on terrazzo floor. It still remains one of my nightmares. I am so sorry about that too.

You inspire in so many ways I cannot fully describe to you. Maybe you will find out about my blog and read through it and when you do, you will come across the story of my drug addiction and how you made me stop. What is not in the story is the exact moment that I fully made up my mind. See, when we came to Egypt you were 11 months and such a smallie *tight hug* anyways, I was seriously into the drugs then and one night after you had gone to bed, I gave myself a dose of it and drifted into the fantasy of it's 'calming' effect. A few hours later I woke, stretched my hands to feel for you next to me but you were not there. I thought you'd gone to the very end of the bed so I sat up to check and you were not anywhere on it! OMG! I thought in a panic where is she? "Aisha" I called out your name as I got up from the bed then I looked back at the bed again....it was really high for an 11 month old to have fallen off! How didn't I hear the thud or your cry for help?! What happened to me? Where are you, Aisha? I looked round the base of the bed, checked your aunt's bed and all around it; nowhere in our room. I went into granny's room and even asked if she took you, but I didn't wait for a reply because I had scanned her bed and you were not on it! I checked the kitchen, nothing. Then the bathroom and there you were with a drop of tear upon your soft chocolate cheek, sitting down playing with the toilet brush! Oh Allah!!! I thank YOU! I sat on the floor, took you in my arms hugging you and apologizing over and over checking if you had any swellings or anything that was not there before I fell asleep. That was the turning point; I told myself "This is it! It's either you stop or you kill her!" 

Once again, thank you so very much for your presence in my life. Right from the first time I held you in my arms I felt in my heart you will be a source of great and good things to come my way, In sha Allah and you have been. You were not a troublesome baby, never cried unnecessarily. Once you had been cleaned, fed properly and burped that's it, till the next meal. There were never in between waking up and you were not a choosy baby; as a matter of fact you stopped breast feeding by yourself when you completed 4 months preferred infant formula (Lactogen-1 was what you fed on). You have been a very easy-to-handle and loveable baby. I love you, Aisha Abdallah Tahir.

You deserve to be with a complete family, a daddy and a mommy, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins loads and loads of them. Around people that you can count on and will be there for you at any time. Letting you go was and still is the hardest decision I had to make. But I know, trust and believe that you will always be safe protected and guided by the Almighty Allah for He said whosoever puts their trust in HIM will never be let down and when you entrust someone or something into the Hands of Allah that person and/or thing is forever safe. I have entrusted you, Aisha, into His Hands so I know you are safe, In Shaa Allah. I always hoped that I would be there when you read your first complete sentence in English and when you learnt Suratul Fatiha, Ikhlas, Falaq and Naas. I always wanted to be there when you begin to lose your teeth. I wanted my hair to be your practice for how to plait hair so I can feel your tiny soft hands tugging and pulling. You know when I visited you on a Friday in February of 2013, you came in from school so excited telling your Mommy "Mommy an bani homework, an bani homework" I felt so jealous! But I knew in my heart of hearts that you will grow up to be a very dedicated Lady in whatever you've set your heart to and you know the right people to ask for help. May Allah always be your first choice of guide, ameen ameen. Once again, I love you so very much, my Little Maama.
I had the best first three years of your life and I have so many pictures and a few videos of them for you to watch. When I showed people your picture they would say "Her eyes are filled with intelligence." I would feel so elated. What a blessed mother I am to have such an amazing, wonderful and blessed child like you. You know sometimes I feel I may never love any other child/children (if I am destined to have more) the way I do you! *embarrassed smile*. There are a few things however I feel is my duty to teach you but since I cannot/may not have the chance to always be with you, I am including them in this letter.
Always try your very best to perform your prayers on time with all sincerity and respect because you are standing in front of The Lord of the heavens and the earth. Know that He may not answer your dua' immediately to test your faith but if it's going to be good for you then He will eventually answer it, In Shaa Allah. It's hard to be patient but we have to be, besides looking at it from another angle what other choice do we have?! Except we want to lead ourselves astray (w na uzu billah). And sometimes if it isn't answered we will wake up one morning and be so grateful for unanswered dua's. Keep making them positive!
Take care of yourself physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, and in everything. Only when you do that can you be up to any task given to you. And use your free time wisely; a Hadith relates; there are two blessings in which most people are in great loss; 1-Good health 2-Free time. I pray you find joy in engaging yourself in useful tasks. There are so many of them; reading useful books, journals and such, knitting, crochet, writing, baking, experimental cookery, sewing or patching up torn clothes. The list is endless plus it saves you the trouble of gossip/back-biting which is a nasty, terrible habit. Do not engage in it except you have something good to say. When you talk about people, people will talk about you. Never mind that they already do, it's your sin being moved to them. Allah has warned us against it severely.
Never hesitate to be involved in a good act for the sake of Allah. People may and will make you feel like a fool but they know you're not. Have respect and mercy for every living soul, big or small, especially the helpless; there is great reward in it. Family comes first, even though we are really annoying and talking to strangers always seems more blissful. Family will be the last people left with you. Know that some people become family not through blood but through means you may never expect. It's called brotherhood/sisterhood in Islam and humanity and that is how we are supposed to live as a family.
You have a very beautiful smile never lose it! Take  care of your oral health; brush, gargle and say only kind words or keep mute(the Angels around perceive good kind words as we perceive perfumes and bad, harsh words as we perceive refuse)! Keep your environment clean at all times for cleanliness is next to Godliness! Eat healthy and moderately. Be considerate of others but do not let them take advantage of your consideration. There are days your Faith will be completely low, but it's okay! The prophet (SAW) said; "if our faiths were constantly high then we would be walking, seeing and talking to the Angels." We are humans, created to fall and rise in everything including our Faiths. The most important thing is to rise!
I think I will stop here for now, my eyes are filled with tears remembering you. I love you so much. I have no idea how much is "so much" at times! *laughs*. I hope and pray to make a sequel to this letter.
Oh and one more thing you would have noticed, so many other people would have read this before you. The best part, many will be jealous of OUR LOVE! Once again, I love you, bint Abdallah! *tight hug, loving caresses and multiple kisses*