So, I’ve been away for long and I feel this would be the perfect thing to write about seeing as it is International Women’s Day today!


As Muslims we often get asked ‘What is it about Islam you like?’

Well, for me one thing about Islam I hold very dear to my heart is the sisterhood. Everyone is your friend; every girl is your Sister and every woman is your Aunty. I love the feeling when you’re walking down the street and you see a sister you may never have seen before yet there is a mutual understanding amongst you, a sort of warm feeling. You smile, give each other Salam and then carry on walking.

Think of the feeling you get when a stranger smiles at you. Even when you’re having a bad day just for a moment that smile brightens it up.

The first time I realised the beauty of this sisterhood was in High school. Every day when I walked home from school I would see this Aunty with her two sons and daughter. Whenever I saw her I’d smile at her, say Salam and carry on walking with my friends. Of course, when I moved on to college I would no longer see this aunty, but I never gave it much thought. A few years later during Ramadan I went to the Masjid for Taraweeh and I noticed the Aunty, but I didn’t think she’d remember me, so I let it be. I never knew her name or the name of her children, so I didn’t really know what I’d go up to her and say. Just then her daughter ran over, and her mum followed. The aunty gave me the biggest hug and asked me where I’d been and how I was. I was so surprised that after so long she remembered me and so did her children. That was when I learnt about the essence of sisterhood in Islam. Just from acknowledging one another with a smile and Salam we had developed a friendship.


The sisterhood is not deemed by the colour of your skin, by the language you speak or whether you are rich or poor. The sisterhood is a unity amongst all the Muslim sisters around the world.

In this unity there is strength.


Spoken World

She feels the fever rising as she embraces her child,

her heart begins to flutter,

she reaches towards the phone; in order to inform the doctor,

panic seizing her body; her motherly instincts taking order,

she describes the symptoms, hoping there is a medicine he can deliver.

Nights go by…sleepless,

This is what makes a mother….a mother,

the endless efforts to keep her child healthy, to keep her child happy.


Now her child is sick once more,

but as she runs for the phone she remembers there is no doctor she can call,

no doctor to diagnose her child or to hear her concerns,

the war has destroyed the nearest hospitals, and the local pharmacy,

no medication; just a warm embrace to ease her child’s pain,

just a shawl to wipe the tears away,

she is a mother…helpless,

the struggle to help her child is overwhelming,

she makes her way towards the closest refugee camp,

to be told “sorry madam we are under supplied, and need to prioritise the causalities”.




Did you know that according to the U.N., £3 billion was required in 2016 to provide emergency support and stabilisation to families throughout Syria, however only £2 billion was received as of March 2017!






Spoken World

It is that time of year again when we are greeted with an old friend, Ramadan! A time where everyone is bound by a single motion. Around the globe Muslims are in unity from the moment the sun rises to the moment the sun sets. The rich and the poor, the good and the bad are all as equals.

The unity throughout this month gives us an insight into the struggles of those less fortunate than ourselves. Allowing us to experience the hunger of the homeless and the thirst for water of an orphan child. Teaching us to be grateful for what we have, and opening our minds to appreciate our blessings.

Ramadan gives us time to better ourselves as humans as well as, as Muslims. A time to reflect on oneself. I would say that this is the best time to go for anything you’ve always wanted to do. For example you want to stop swearing, then use this month to motivate yourself to stop. I also get a lot of girls that ask me questions about wearing the Hijab, and honestly Ramadan is the best time of the year to start because you can use this month to try it, and get comfortable with it. I do get a lot of girls saying they’re concerned about how others will comment on how they randomly put it on. Girl I feel you! That is the beauty of Ramadan because everyone is striving to be the best they can, so no one is focusing on what someone else is doing.

So set yourself a goal this Ramadan and try your hardest to follow it through! I would love to hear what goals you have set and how you are finding Ramadan so hit that comment button or drop me an email on my contact page!







Spoken World

‘When things are not going to plan, you feel trapped. Before you know it you are a prisoner in the deepest corner of your own mind. The darkest corner. Suddenly, you feel the water rising… you attempt to control your breathing. You look around, but there is no escape. Before you know it you are submerged underwater. You struggle, flapping your arms about like a baby searching for its mother. Everything starts to fade. The darkness has completely taken over. You have drowned in your own thoughts. You begin to sink to the bottom. You are now just another lifeless body in the darkest hollows of thought.’

This is anxiety!

This is stress!

This is depression!

And honestly in university … This is common!

With exams around the corner and assignment deadlines piling up. This is the time of year where anxiety is sky high. Stress becomes like the air we breath. That stress can then lead to anxiety which can develop into mental health issues such as depression.

I would like to give you all advice as someone who is currently going through this cycle. I understand how difficult it can be, having to deal with high levels of anxiety. So here is some personal advice from one stressed student to another.

  1. RELAX! Yes, we all want to pass university but you don’t want to drive yourself to insanity in the procedure. Give yourself breaks. Allow your brain to revive. Take a breather every once in a while!
  2. TALK! Sometimes keeping all your thoughts and worries buckled up only makes it more stressful. Your worries begin to pile up and before you know it you’re isolated. There’s just you and your thoughts. Whether it’s your friends or your family, just talk to them about what going in. That does not necessarily mean they will be able to fix the problem. But sharing your problem is half of the solution.
  3. CRY! As I said before sometimes it is better to let it all out of your system rather than let it build up. Holding all your problems in will only lead to you having a severe depression later. Sometimes it okay to have a breakdown.
  4. Pray! This is something that personally works best for me, It allows me to escape from my problems. Who better to talk about your problems than the one that put that challenge in your path?
  5. Lastly, remember that you are not alone! Anxiety and Depression during university is very common so don’t feel like you are alone in this, as though you are the only one feeling this way. I Feel you!

I really hoped that helped guys! This was written on a special request, so if you would like me to write about anything in specific you can email me on my contact page or follow my on instagram.

Thank You!

Spoken World

Heeeey guys!

In the spirit of Yaum-e-Pakistan also known as Pakistan Resolution Day, I would like to share some pictures of videos from my stay in Pakistan last summer.

Pakistan a beautiful land, with views you would only expect to see in movies. Greenery as far as the eye can see. Birdsong as far as the ears can hear. Pakistan is more than a war ridden dwelling, more than a poverty driven land. Pakistan has a lot more to offer than a corrupt government. I would like to have the honour of showing you today.

Mazar-e-Quaid, Karachi.

I would like to start by showing Mazar-e-Quaid which is also known as the Jinnah Mausoleum is the final resting place of the founder of Pakistan, Quaid-e-Azam, Muhammad Ali Jinnah. This is also the resting place of his sister, Mader-e-Millat, Fatima Jinaah and Liaquat Ali Khan, the first Prime Minister of Pakistan.



Faisal Mosque, Islamabad.

Here are a few picture I managed to take of the Faisal Mosque in Islamabad which is largest mosque in South Asia and the fourth largest mosque in the world!

The Faisal Mosque was named after the late king of Saudi Arabia, Faisal Bin Abdul Aziz, who financed the construction.


Finally here’s a little treat!

Muree, Patriata.

Here is a video of the view of Murree from the chair lift!




Spoken World, travels

Over 400 hundred years ago the African Slave labour began.  Millions were torn from their land, parted from their families. Sold. Sold like a Cattle at the market. Prohibited to speak against the deprivation of their own human rights. Treated like nothing more than PROPERTY. Someone else’s property. Stripped of their identity, stripped of their African Heritage. Hollow shells stripped of all emotion made to work in silence. Silence with only the lord to hear their cries.

“Eh N***** get back to work”

A vulgar way to show their superiority over the Black man.

400 Years later and the Slave trade is now just another historical event taught in our history lessons.

An event that is only recollected for only one month throughout the entire year … ‘Black History Month’.

Yet the word that was once used to insult a Black person is repeated more now than it was in the past.

A word that was once used to insult African ancestors, is now used as a basic greeting and a manner of respect…. “Hello, my N*****”. How can a word that was once used as a slur now be used as a greeting?

A word that is now a standard lyric is many songs. When they write their songs, and every other word is N*****. Do they not think? Do they not remember? Was that not a reality?

Society has twisted a word that’s origin is a story that lasts over 500 years and turned it into ‘just another word.’ Do they not see what that word symbolises? It symbolises the years of blood, sweat and tears of the African people. It symbolises the mother’s prayers for the children that were taken. The years of Black people fighting for their rights. The countless attempts to escape that word. To escape that reality. It symbolises the generation of children born into slavery, sold even before they enter the world. Given their title as a slave even before they are given the title of a child. Branded a N***** before they are branded Human.

How can such a word be normalised?

How can such a word be a common lyric in the many songs we hear today?

How can the reality of that word be forgotten so easily?

There have also been many occurrences whereby present Black people believe that their African heritage gives them validation to use such a word. However, surely your black background should be more of a reason not to use this word. There should be a strong hatred towards such a word. Our ancestors did not go through years of suffering to have their future generation use the word they died trying to stop from being used.

Your African heritage should be more of a reason to stand against the use of this word.


Spoken World

Cancer is a Gift – Ali Banat

Spoken World

I don’t often share stories of others, but this is one story that has inspired me and many others for the past three years about an inspirational individual called Ali Banat.

Ali Banat passed away on Tuesday, 29th May 2018 in the blessed month of Ramadan. I am writing this special blog dedicated to Ali Banat and to share the story that has inspired me for many years with you all.

~ Note before I begin, I am writing as a follower of his story via social media these past few years. If I make any mistake in what I say I would like to apologise in advance.

I first came across Ali’s story when watching a video called Gifted with Cancer. Ali spoke about his diagnosis with stage four cancer, with doctors saying he had only 7 months to live. Yet, he continued to refer to his cancer as a gift from Allah.

We plan, but Allah is the best of planners. Ali was diagnosed with a time period of 7 months, yet Allah had written three years longer than what the doctors had certainly predicted. That is the glory of Allah.

Ali was truly blessed with Cancer. He didn’t use his illness to blame Allah for his suffering. He didn’t wallow in self-pity. He didn’t live with the delusion that his wealth and luxurious life will benefit him in any way. Rather, he used his illness to get closer to Allah. Ali saw his illness as a blessing from Allah. He was blessed with a chance to make a change in himself and carry out actions that would continue to benefit him in the hereafter.

The most beautiful thing about Ali’s story was how much long after his diagnoses he carried on fighting. I remember watching a video of Ali in 2016, and he was laying down near a pool of blood and he said “I think this is the last stage for me and I love you all for the sake of Allah.” That was over two years ago now, just imagine!

At the beginning of Ramadan this year he then went on to post a video about his excitement for Ramadan. He wrote about how blessed he was to see three Ramadan have been since his diagnosis. What a blessing that he then passed away in Ramadan.

When diagnosed with cancer Ali founded the Muslims Around The World (MATW) Project. This beautiful project contributes towards the less fortunate around the world. MATW has blossomed into an amazing charity and I hope that this charity continues to grow, helping the less fortunate as well as benefiting Ali in the hereafter.

May Allah grant him the highest ranks in Jannah and forgive him of his shortcomings.

May Allah also allow us all to take heed from Ali’s story in order to remind ourselves of the misconceptions of this world and drive us to strengthen our Imaan. Ameen.

Dear World,

There are parts of you that have so much life; buildings that soar the sky, millions of people walking through your streets every day, homes filled with love and parks filled with laughter. Yet, there are also parts of you that are now nothing more than silence and dust; those streets that were once bustling with people don’t even carry so much as an echo of life. Buildings shattered like the lives that once resided in those walls. Ruins. No way to know what was once a school, an office or a playground.

You have become a place where on one side your streets are filled with people attending pro-life protests. To your left, you see a banner reading “Abortion is Murder” and to your right you see a banner reading “Abortion is a Civil Right”.

They march, chanting, fighting for what they believe… oblivious to the height of their hypocrisy. Oblivious to their selective humanity. They chant “Abortion is Murder” …”Pro-life” while another child was just killed in a bombing and another child falls into the hands of malnutrition and starvation. Was that not a life? Or was that life just not worth fighting for?

They chant “Abortion is a Civil Right” yet they abuse a woman for choosing to wear a hijab. Is choosing what to wear not a civil right? They see a Muslim woman fully clothed and call her oppressed. They see a Muslim man with a beard and call him a terrorist. Yet, they praise a woman for dressing half naked and love a man in a beard as long as it’s in the name of fashion. The degree of contradiction is laughable.

You have become a place where people define the importance of a life according to the colour of one’s skin, the origin of one’s passport or their religion. If a black man was killed, it would just be another story that did not make the news. Just another black life that doesn’t matter. If another bomb was to drop on Syria, it would be another bombing that did not make the news. Just another Syrian life that does not matter. If another Muslim woman was attacked in the street, her hijab ripped off. It would be another Islamophobic attack that did not make the news. Just another Muslim life that does not matter.

All life matters. Every life has a value. Enough of your selective humanity. You’re are either pro-life or against-life. You don’t get to pick and choose which life is worth fighting for.

Spoken World


Over the summer I went on the holiday of a life time. I got to see things you would only imagine in movies. The trip I want to share with you all today is one I hold very dear to my heart. After 17 long years, I went to a back to a place called Banjosa Lake, an absolute childhood favourite. However, this was 5 hours away from home, which meant 5 in morning we were off ‘on an adventure’. The trip consisted of over 20 people crammed in a coach made for maximum 18 people for over 5 hours. CAN YOU IMAGINE, like sardines in a tin!!

During the journey, we made a pit stop at a little village; time to take a walk, stretch our legs and take as many pictures as we could of course! The coach stopped near a school which was located near a cliff side, and all the children were outside playing, and so we decided to join them.

Standing on the cliff, and looking as far as the eye can see. You wonder how people have managed to situate homes on cliffs, in the middle of nowhere. From someone that comes from Britain, this was absolutely mind boggling!

You can feel the tranquility as you breath in the fresh air. As you take in the greenery. As you listen to the birds singing in sync.

Banjosa is located on a high mountain so we had to drive up many hills and to get there. As a person who comes from Britain, where there is no such thing as open scenery with lush greenery and the sound of tranquility in the air. This drive up a mountain was absolutely mesmerising. You could feel the sun’s rays shining down on you, while the wind gets colder as you move higher up the mountain. You could hear different bird songs as you drove past. You could see all the exquisite place people live. You could see a world entirely different to the dull bubble we live in, Britain.


Finally, it was 11 o’clock and we were at our first destination, Banjosa Lake. The last time I was here I was too small to remember much. But it still gave me that surge of happiness, the sort you get when you eat a chocolate bar from your childhood.

After having breakfast at the Lake, we were off again. Toli Pir here we come! Toli pir was another hour journey, but oh boy was it worth it. Toli Pir is near the top of a mountain, and so it was very cold and cloudy when we got there. At first I thought It was just very misty, like a cold winter morning here in Britain ……

…However, I soon realised that my clothes were soaking wet from the rain, but it was not pouring with rain! So how were we all drenched?? WE WERE AMONGST THE CLOUDS!! We were the clouds, and so we were wet from rain without feeling the rainfall. It was so overwhelming, a truly mesmerising experience.


We began to make our way up the mountain, but because of the clouds it was very difficult to see, if someone was standing more than 5 steps away they were lost amongst the clouds.

As the clouds made it so difficult to see, and the cold was becoming unbearable everyone made their way back towards the coach. Eh, I did not sit in a coach for 6 hours to go back. It was time to embrace my inner daredevil. I began my expedition, towards the final peak of the mountain, the highest point. I was joined by my aunties and a few cousins. We all made our way all the way to the top. Trying not to slip. Trying not to fall down the mountain to certain death. Whilst we listen to the rest of the family yelling at us, telling us to come back or we will die. Talk about moral support!

I can’t remember how long it took us to get to the final peak, or how we even managed to get there without slipping on the mud, or falling down the mountain. But, when were at the top of that final peak we could feel the accomplishment. We had made. Top of the world. In sandals!!

It was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever had the opportunity to experience.

It taught me to live my life to the best I can, grasp every opportunity, even if I have to do it alone.

To embrace that inner Daredevil!

And lets not forget sunset the way home, the most perfect way to end the perfect adventure!


We have been brought up in a society which has embedded the idea deep into our minds, that we have until the age of 100 to fulfill our lives goals. But what reassurance to we have that we will live to see tomorrow? Which scientist out there can work out the exact life span of each human being? Or work out the exact day a person shall die? When a person is diagnosed with a terminal illness and the doctors give an estimation of how long the person has…. sometimes they say 6 months, yet the person only lives to see a week. However sometimes they say the patient will not to make it through the night, and despite that, the person lives to see their children and grandchildren grow up. Surely, this shows that we know not how long we shall live. We do not possess this power, we do not possess this knowledge.

It is He who created you of clay, then determined a term and a term is stated with Him; yet thereafter you doubt.  Verse (6:2)

And it is He who gives life and causes death, and His is the alternation of the night and the day. Then will you not reason?  Verse (23:80)

However, this idea of living till old age has embedded so deep, that the people of today live life as though they have the rest of their lives to make up for the mistakes they make today. That is not how the world works. There are many youths today who think “I’m still young, I’ll start praying when I’m older.” But what we fail to realise is what if old age is not written for us? What if you keep saying you’ll pray tomorrow, but tomorrow never comes?

Think about it.

Remember! A long life is not promised!

Don’t wait for tomorrow to make yourself a better person,

Do not wait for tomorrow to seize an opportunity …tomorrow may never come


For my first post I decided to write about something fun! So here goes…..

السلام عليكم

As-salāmu ʿalaykum everyone,

If you are writing your bucket list or planning what to do on your next holiday, QUICKLY write quad biking down before you forget!

It is honestly one of the most exhilarating experiences; allowing you to bring out your inner Vin Diesel if you know what I mean. Suddenly everything around, you slow down and you feel as though you’re travelling faster than time itself. You feel the wind blowing through your Hijab and sand going in your eyes and up your nose.

I went Quad biking at a desert safari in Dubai. For the people of Dubai, it was a nice day with not a single cloud in the sky. So, you can imagine how hot it must have felt for someone from England, whose hottest day of 2015 was 36.7C. I could feel the naked sun’s rays burning my skin as I stepped out of the coach and stepped foot on the desert.


The day begun with some dune bashing and yes, it is as crazy as it sounds! It involves you sitting in a 4×4 land cruiser which is driven over high and low sand dunes. You’re rocking around the land cruiser from side to side, feeling as though any minute you’re going to go flying out the window. In one word, it was EPIC! Once my hijab was completely inside out, the driver drops us off to the desert camp.


It was time to meet the animals of the desert.  First thing I did was take a selfie with the falcon that was sitting on my arm, next thing I know the man instructs the falcon to stand on my head. Honestly between us the only thought going through my head was “DON’T MOVE GIRL, OR YOUR HIJAB WILL FALL OFF!”falcon

Next thing on the agenda was a Camel trek, but waiting to ride the camel was absolutely torture, gagging from the smell of their poop that was scattered all over the place. It was finally my turn to get on the camel and it was honestly the most awkward moment ever because everyone just watches you getting on, waiting you to fall and make a complete fool of yourself.  But, once I was on the camel it was adorable, the camel was just trotting along the desert doing its thing.


As time passed the sky was filled with all the colours of the spectrum from blue to a burning red to orange as the sun set. Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar……you could hear the Maghrib athaan echo to all corners of the desert.


So, we proceeded back to the camp area to pray Salah and then found our seats all ready for our barbecue dinner at the desert. Dinner was accompanied by traditional folk dancing called Tanoura and belly dancing. However, watching a half-naked women dancing wasn’t exactly my scene so I decided to get a black henna tattoo with my mama bear instead. Around the camp were tents where the people of the desert sold their goods like handmade cushions and carpets. In the corner, I caught glimpse of a tent where a man would make a picture of a camel in the desert and write your name completely out of sand in a vase. Completely out of sand! Now that’s talent!

Overall it was an amazing day and a once in a life time experience. One I would recommend to all.