A friend of mine asked me, “So how’s motherhood?” All I could think of besides it being oh so tiring and busy, was that it was just so genuinely giving. You just give, give and give. Then when you think you’re done giving, you give some more. You’re a well without an end…always ready to provide. Perhaps because he’s still a newborn, but you really do get nothing in return. Yes, you get the blessing of motherhood; but that’s from God– not from your child. He gives you nothing but cries and packages every two hours with nature’s call. (She calls him…a lot!). He doesn’t yet smile so you feel like you’re at least getting something, and he doesn’t yet talk to acknowledge you. But still, there’s something so beautiful about this new but ancient bond. There’s still something unexplainable when he rests his head on your chest, soothed to sleep by the very heart beat that brought him comfort for 9 months within your womb. There’s something extraordinary when he can’t calm down with anyone but you, as if he’s telling you, “I know who you are, mama. I can smell (not only your milk) but your unconditional love.”

Everyone’s a celebrity nowadays.

It seems as though half the people on Instagram have at least 15K followers. And what’s interesting to me is, they mostly happen to be “fashionistas.”

All it takes is one photo that goes viral for you to become this social media goddess. People start to idolize you. You start having meet and greets— and for what? For posing with a pretty dress. I’m sorry, but that’s really all it is. And what message does this send out?

Wash, lather, rinse, repeat.

Wake up, go to work, go to sleep, repeat.

Sounds like a robot, doesn’t it? Anyone in the working life can attest to that. You do the same thing, every day. You can’t tell the days apart from how similar they’ve become.

The flowers have to be champaign pink with a hint of cherry, the bridesmaids have to be wearing flowy lilac gowns and my dress has to be the only one ever created— even if it costs me the car I could’ve bought.

I received the following message from a sister who wishes to remain anonymous. She has agreed to share her question, since it may be something others may be struggling with.

“Sister, I have a problem. I cannot enjoy salah. I try to but I can’t. Every time I have to get up and pray, I feel like it’s such a burden and I’m doing it only because I have to, not because I want to. I want to feel like I want to pray. I’m jealous of people who look like they’re enjoying it. Can you tell me what I can do to solve this problem? I feel like my heart is no longer pure.”

Every time I read the news, I wonder if humanity is moving forward or backward.

Hash tags like #BlackLivesMatter only reiterate this. We seriously need a hash tag to remind us that African American lives matter?! We need protests and demonstrations just to hold people accountable for acts they’ve irresponsibly committed? I thought we were past that…I guess democracy is just an illusion that is only clear to a particular skin pigment (or lack thereof).

We get it. He loves you very much. He buys you flowers every week and leaves you a love note next to your coffee every morning. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Really. It’s cute, genuine love.

But what can ruin that love is your constant marketing of it. We live in a time where social media is intertwined in every little aspect of our lives. People post “Just sneezed,” so someone can comment “Bless you.” We can’t eat a meal before snapping a picture of it (and adding a nice filter to make it look better than it actually is), and we can’t sit as a family watching a movie without someone posting “Feeling blessed; with family.”

*First published in the Eyeopener*

– Ryerson journalism student Amal Ahmed Albaz flew home to Egypt this summer expecting a quiet vacation with her family. What she got was anything but. –

When his pockets were emptied, a white paper stained with red blood was found. It was a note from his 10-year-old daughter: “Dad, please come back home safely. I’m waiting for you.” But her wait will be fruitless because her father is never coming back. Khaled Nassar was dead.

You know what the problem is? Sometimes you try so hard, too hard, to be perfect in all that you do, that you actually don’t get anything done. You’re so worried about taking the first step of a six-mile marathon. You forget that it’s one of many. You’re occupying yourself with thoughts that are quite unnecessary. Should I start with my right foot, or my left foot? Should I tie my laces in a bunny or a butterfly? What if I get tired half way? It looks like it’s going to rain. Should I bring an umbrella? Should I even run the marathon?—JUST START ALREADY. Stop worrying. Take the step. Take a leap of faith. Have trust in yourself…and go.

Imagine your eyes a video camera, recording all that you see. Your lips a voice recorder recording all that you say. Imagine this “movie” being played wide screen on Judgment Day. But I now ask you, why imagine if that’s the case?

You may claim to be a Muslim, you may claim to be a believer; but is that truly enough? As humans, we always seek “more”. Whether it is in education, status, or wealth, we always want “more”. But why is it any different when it comes to religion? Why are we satisfied with the level we’re at with no desire to improve? Why do we compare ourselves to those we think are lower than us in iman, and convince ourselves that we’re good enough? Why don’t we seek –or want to seek– “more”?