Posted in campaign, Contemplation, Feminism, Freedom, Life, Poetry, Uncategorized

You Might Think Feminism Is Dead

Feminism is not removing my hijab

Or burning bras

Swearing and shouting

because being ladylike is torture

Feminism is not saying I can do this

It’s saying I can do both

and more

It’s saying I can make change as PM

without using my power to go to war

It’s saying I can have an empire

waiting for me outside my door

and come home to my husband and kids

and take control

It’s being a supermum

and a superboss

a superchef, supercleaner

superfast car lego building, abs builder

It’s being everything and more

and nothing if I don’t want it

It’s having the choices and chances to inspire

create opportunities and fly higher

It’s being equal but embracing our differences

You might think feminism is dead

and I might agree with you to be honest

-a.K.a-

 

 

 

(Image taken from PlayBuzz)

Posted in domestic violence, Emotions, Freedom, Health, Humanity, Islam, Journey, Life, mental health, Mental State, Poetry, Spoken Word, Therapy, Uncategorized

Strength in Walking 2

It was while she was running
Rainy days
Blistering winds
betraying tears
Forgiveness isn’t a friend of the stubborn
She had laughed in his face
Cried inside but showed no pain
Now it was while she was running
Traffic crunching along
Gravel sounds made her turn around
but she was still moving on
The shadow of the world
Shone through the hazy streetlights
and yet she ran
Hood pulled up. Close.
Hands shaking from misery
and exhilaration of defiance
It was while she was running
away from her mistakes
that she ran into freedom-
the freedom of walking away

-a.K.a-


Check out Strength in Walking here

Strength in walking

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, 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 Freedom, Justice, Poetry

Freedom

If you want to measure your freedom

Take a walk outside your door

If you make it to the corner

then rejoice because you are free

If you want to measure your freedom

Take a walk outside your door

If you don’t get shot down by a policeman

then rejoice because you are free

If you want to measure your freedom

Take a walk outside your door

If you don’t get abused for no reason

then rejoice because you are free

if you want to measure your freedom

take a walk outside your door

if you can make it to the shops for a pint of milk and bread

then rejoice because you are free

if you want to measure your freedom

take a walk outside your door

if your hijab is your modesty

then rejoice because you are free

If you want to measure your freedom

take a walk outside your door

if you can hug a brother of a different religion

then rejoice because you are free

if you want to measure your freedom

take a walk back home to your door

if your blessed with a wife and kids then treat em

then praise Allah because you have family

If you want to measure your freedom

Take a moment to collect your thoughts

Because your mind is always free to venture

So don’t feel trapped by the system take your liberties

But

Sometimes freedoms hard to remember

When your victimised by harsh words everyday

Imperative tones and stones are thrown your way

they block the pave

they attack your mind daily

they congregate at the forefront of your mind

and your treated like that of the slaves

with a master and a price

that is all your worth

Freedom is a choice but that choice can be taken

Freedom is a voice but your voice needs a platform

Freedom is in you but sometimes you are controlled

and freedom is action and action takes drive

-a.K.a-