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


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.



Omran Daqneesh, Aleppo, 5 Years Old

Another child of war

Another victim of war

Another innocent destroyed

Another child with PTSD

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

His Name Was Aylan Kurdi


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


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



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


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


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!?


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

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


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