Posted in anger, Anti-violence, Anti-war, campaign, Children, Uncategorized

Sombre

I could shake with fury
Anger blazing in my eyes
The tears could overspill
but in the end I’m stuck in this life

I could stand up and shout
Add levels to my height
Talk words that are harsh
until my throat burns dry

I could give up
just sit here let the world run by
Watch the explosions in my head
Time after time

I could do all these things
But what is the use
I’ll just sit here in shock
Whilst they figure out what to do.

-a.K.a-


 

Omran Daqneesh, Aleppo, 5 Years Old

Another child of war

Another victim of war

Another innocent destroyed

Another child with PTSD

Advertisements
Posted in Anti-violence, Anti-war, Emotions, Freedom, Humanity, Islam, Journey, Justice, Life, Religion, Uncategorized

Muhammad Ali-A tribute

An extract from “The Soul of a Butterfly” by Muhammad Ali and Hana Yasmeen Ali

“A newfound FRIEND

It was a hot day in May. I was at Fighter’s Heaven, my training camp in Deer Lake, Pennsylvania, getting ready for my fight against George Foreman. After a long and hard workout I’d gone back to my dressing room with Gene Kilroy, who helped run the camp.

We were sitting there when there was a knock on my cabin door. Gene went to see who it was. A young boy with health problems wanted to meet me. I told Gene to send him in, and seconds later the boy appeared with his father. The boy wore a heavy sweater and a wool cap. I asked him why he was wearing that hot sweater and cap.

The boy told me that he had leukaemia and that he was wearing the cap because all his hair had fallen out, due to the chemotherapy that he had undergone.

A wave of sadness passed over me, and at the same time I realised how lucky I was to have healthy children. Gene took a picture of the twelve-year old boy with me and as the boy prepared to leave I asked him his name.

“My name is Jimmy” he answered, and he added that I had made him very happy. I looked at him and told him that I was going to beat George Foreman in the upcoming fight and that he was going to beat cancer.

Jimmy gave me a hug. “You’re right!” he said.

As the boy was leaving I said, “Jimmy, don’t forget what I told you.”

He gave me a big smile, waved goodbye, and walked out the door.

A couple of days later I had the picture of Jimmy and me blown up and sent it to the boy’s father. On it I’d written:

‘To my friend Jimmy,

You’re going to beat cancer. I’m going to beat George.

Love, Your friend,

Muhammad Ali’

Two weeks later, while I was on the way to do my road workout, Gene told me that the boy’s father had called to thank me for the picture. He’d gone on to explain that Jimmy was now in the University of Pennsylvania hospital and didn’t have much more time to live.

This made me feel so sad that I told Gene to let the boy’s father know that we were driving down to the hospital immediately to visit little Jimmy. Three hours later we arrived at the hospital and went straight up to Jimmy’s room. When I walked in he was lying in his bed and I saw that his skin was as white as his sheets were.

Jimmy looked up with bright eyes and called out, “Muhammad, I knew you would come!”

I walked over to his bedside and said, “Jimmy, remember what I told you? I’m going to beat George Foreman and you’re going to beat cancer”.

Jimmy looked up to me and whispered, “No, Muhammad. I’m going to meet God, and I’m going to tell him that you are my friend.”

  *              *            *

The room was silent and we were in tears. I hugged Jimmy goodbye and later that night when we returned to my training camp, none of us spoke much.

I guess God had a bigger plan for Jimmy because a week later Gene informed me that Jimmy had died and that I was invited to attend his funeral. I couldn’t go, so I asked Gene if he would go and represent me, and he did.

When Gene returned from the funeral he told me that there had been an open casket and that the autographed picture was beside Jimmy’s head.

Jimmy’s death was a powerful lesson in the midst of all the activity and preparation for my job–a boxing match– of how fragile and precious life is. We must always be mindful that each day is a gift from God that can be lost at any moment”.

No-one will ever be able to comprehend how much Ali inspired me to use whatever voice I have to try and make a difference. To stand up for what I believe in and to do right by people. Whenever I need some motivation and inspiration I pick up this book and find hope, I find courage, I find humility. I find a freedom fighter, with a gentle, loving nature, but with a fierce courage that only some possess. People like Muhammad Ali are rare and I have been blessed to know a time where I was able to see his impact on people. I pray to God that nobody ever diminishes his influence that he had in this world, and that he is not forgotten as just a boxer-because he was so much more than the greatest boxer of all time.

The world will be a better place if we all take snippets of his nature and instil it within ourselves. We truly lost a legend on 4th June 2016.

I pray that Allah welcomes Muhammad Ali with love and mercy, and that he is amongst the finest company in Jannah. I pray that his family have patience in this difficult time and draw strength from the love the world is displaying; I pray one day we can all be as solid in our faith as Ali was and be role models for future generations. Above all, I pray that Ali is at peace. We love you Champ.

-a.K.a-

 

 

 

Posted in Anti-violence, Anti-war, article, campaign, Justice, Palestine, Uncategorized

BDS-Reebok Edition

Reebok announced that they will be releasing a new trainer in honour of Israel’s “independence” day celebrating 68 years of “independence”. A time remembered by Palestinians as the Nakba i.e. the catastrophe, and often used to spread awareness of Israel’s heinous crimes against humanity (crimes which are ongoing and as savage as they get), the Nakba was a moment where 750,000 Palestinians were forcibly removed from their homes and Israel was born.  A time where people simply wish to highlight the injustice that is constant and raise the Palestinian flag to show that some of us have not forgotten, and will not forget until Palestine is free again, is now the target of an attempted robbery. A time Israel and Reebok are now going to use to their advantage and profit from.

So, I just want to say to Reebok that I will never be purchasing one of your products. And the only way I would ever consider putting on a pair of these shoes is to step on the name of Israel. This is 68 years of terrorism and torture. Palestine will be free.

 

-a.K.a-

 

A murderer’s shoe has been inserted here for your viewing:

ShowImage.ashx.jpeg

For a more detailed analysis by Ali Abunimah please follow the link below:

Reebok Tramples on Palestinians with “Israel 68” sneaker

*FOLLOWING SOCIAL MEDIA PRESSURE REEBOK ANNOUNCED THAT IT WILL NOT BE CONTINUING WITH THE RELEASE OF THIS SHOE-SMALL VICTORY!*

Posted in Anti-violence, Anti-war, campaign, Freedom, Peace, Uncategorized

Cut the chains

I detest the chains on the backs of ya

 Remember the Crusadors

It’s one thing after another

Politicians calculating our behaviour

Make us believe in peace

piece the pieces of peace back in place

belief and hot-headed glory

you believe will take you to Heaven’s gates’.


I detest the chains on the backs of ya

Wave to the slave trader

Knuckles bleed in protest

and the war-paint’s flagged on our faces

Streams- rivers of tears

You can die in those streams

But they’ll describe you as a roach

when you’re dead on the TV screen.


We detest the chains on the backs of ya

Awaiting the saviour

Too much confusion

Too many strangers

Cut the chains off and throw shade to the wagers

Retreat to safety

Steal glances at the traitors

Homebound safe and made it

Tend to your wounds alone

Pain but no screaming

No signs of a battle zone

Strength isn’t a demon

and in us all it’s so close

Cut the chains off the backs of ya

with words alone

-a.K.a-

Posted in Anti-war, Children, Poetry, Spoken-word

His Name Was Aylan Kurdi

Aylan

All I want to do is go to school when I’m a big boy

Yesterday, we went on a big adventure

Little steps and big leaps we had to go in a boat

Ammi and baba were praying holding onto us tight

Nearly there”, so I thought the scary bit was over


Galip

Gasping for air, baba pushed us higher

Aylan’s tears were bleeding mirroring my fear

Last breath, then black and

It didn’t matter anymore

Peace


Rehan

Realising how dangerous this voyage will be

Enveloping my children so that they’ll be protected

Help us please! We screamed so many times

Anything to bring our children to safety

Now we drift ashore and the cries echo back to your conscience


Abdullah

Abandoned our country we had to escape

Broke off our ties and went on our way

Desperately wanted to make our children safe

Undertook this journey that will haunt me till I leave

Longing for my babies back I’ll sit by them till I leave

Longing for my wife back I’ll sit by her till I leave

And now they want to help us but for me it’s too late

Humanity, a lesson-compassion is not a mistake

-a.K.a-


I have a problem with the world. Why has it taken so long for us to open our eyes? Did you not learn from history, the sole reason we preserve it and teach it. The sole reason that we will not repeat it? Headlines read it’s the ‘immigrant crisis’ but I just see humans fleeing problems the West has created, then left it. If you don’t want them to live in your country, don’t destabilise theirs, then leave them with no society. I’m not saying it’s all the fault of the West. Believe me, I’m not naive to politics. I’m just saying, there was a part to play when everyone got trigger happy and decided the ME was the next target. Responsibility, but first humanity. It is not a issue for politics, just open your eyes to the tragedy. We can’t even open up our homes for the children, because the rules are so set on people being homeless. It’s hopeless. Learn the meaning of migrant versus the meaning of refugee. Stop labelling and criticising. They say be real be practical, but I just can’t get past the anguish in their eyes. I don’t actually know how you sleep at night!?

-a.K.a-

Posted in Anti-violence, Anti-war, campaign, Humanity, Islam, mental health, Mental State, Notes, Palestine, Poetry, Religion, Therapy

The Nakba 67

Today, people globally are commemorating The Nakba (Catastrophe) which occurred 67 years ago. May 15th 1948. 67 years ago the war and ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian people started and as we can see it continues to the present day. The Zionism agenda was pushed hard and Israel was born, displacing thousands of Palestinians and pushing them out from their homes with brutal force. All you have to do is go to Google Images and type in Palestine to see how it has significantly reduced and their freedoms have been taken from them. Yet they are portrayed as being the violent, blood-hungry, terrorists that Israel make them out to be. They have lost THEIR land, THEIR homes, everyday THEIR agriculture gets destroyed, they cannot leave due to closed borders, they do not get the medical help they need so most of them suffer from untreated illnesses. Children have serious mental health issues due to the fact that they have seen nothing but war and killing. Everyday. The number is well into the millions now and it will continue to rise if Israel are not stopped.   The ethnic cleansing has to end. It is a crime against humanity. Yet the world sleeps peacefully. Stand up today, wave a Palestinian flag in defiance, boycott Israeli goods, wear a badge, anything! Show your support and remember those who did not live to see their home be free. Let’s hope the next generation are able to see that day inshaa’Allah

Nakba

The Catastrophe

I wave my flag in defiance for Palestine to be free

I don’t know them but they still my family

Brutal force used to kill children that’s a tragedy

And yet they are the evil ones

How can you look upon a baby girl and think she’s scum

and the world looks upon Israel like the victimised ones

That’s dumb

Instead of reading the papers use these tools to research yourself

You’ll find Israel never had their own wealth, and they got good health

and they murder with stealth yet you think they need help

It’s a joke

Wake up and smell that fresh blood in the air

from that last genocide that occurred last year

They tryna take Aqsa and as we commemorate Miraj tonight

I dare them to come and take our rights

I swear

The media called it the Arab Spring they aint seen nothing yet

Coz without a free Palestine, we won’t let them rest

I don’t use the term freedom in jest

Because it’s not a laughing matter

We’re seeing us go backwards and the higher ups enjoy the platters

while the refugees and minorities scatter

Because these military forces from armies to police

Hunting the black in America and the Arab in the Middle East

combat us then complain when we combat them

This a dangerous world but the voiceless will always win

-a.K.a-


palestinian-children-suffering images-5images-2uprooting-olive-tree Ethnically_Cleansing_Palestine images-3 nelson_mandela_palestinians_460images-4

Posted in Anti-war, Children, Islam, Poetry

My Sister’s Eyes

 world-in-pic-129 April 2015

A family mourns the loss of their relatives to what activists say was a barrel bomb dropped by forces loyal to Syria’s President Bashar al-Assad, in Aleppo’s al-Fardous district

REUTERS/Hosam Katan. Image taken from independent.co.uk

I came across this image

This one above of my sister’s eyes

She is not crying don’t you see

She seems paralysed

She seems like she has lost her youth

Her eyes of a broken, aged woman

Look at her eyes, they feel despair

In this picture, there is not two children

But she is a child!

Just look at her

How at-ease she must look when she smiles

How sweet, and care-free must her smiles be

Her smiles get lost in the shrouds

Now look at that hand

Upon my brothers shoulder

It looks like a youthful hand

It could be a son, a brother- someone

Who is consoling this older man

Children are so resilient

But it’s hard not to be when they know no other

My little brother my little sister

I wish it could be

That you would not have to suffer

But alas! Here we are

With me looking at this picture

I wish I could at least let you know

That I have studied this picture

I have been present with you

I have prayed for your pain to go

I wish I could at least let you know

That we are looking at you

And trying to get you

Away from this torture zone

 

 

And I have noticed you, oh little child

The child with the broken heart

And I have asked Allah to give you a house

A house of crystals in Jannah inshaa’Allah

-a.K.a-


The Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said, “No fatigue, nor disease, nor sorrow, nor sadness, nor hurt, nor distress befalls a Muslim, even if it were the prick he receives from a thorn, but that Allah expiates some of his sins for that.” (Sahih Bukhari, Volume 7, Book 70, Number 545)

May we all be rewarded with patience for whatever befalls us, may we all have the courage and voice to empower our brothers and sisters who cannot speak for themselves, may we all speak up against the oppressors and never ever defend the unjust ruler. May we be saved from jahannam and the fitnah of the Dajjal and be raised with the best of the best on the day of Qiyamah with our book of deeds given to us in our right hand. Ameen