Marriage & Family
2 min
Raising Muhammad Without His Father
My husband died in a car accident on a Tuesday. By Wednesday, everyone had an opinion on how I should raise our son.
Revert journeys. Identity struggles. Faith found, lost, and found again. Unfiltered voices from your brothers and sisters across the world.
In Egypt, a divorced woman is a tragedy. I decided to be a plot twist instead.
My husband died in a car accident on a Tuesday. By Wednesday, everyone had an opinion on how I should raise our son.
It wasn't science that pulled me away. It was anger. And it wasn't theology that brought me back. It was silence.
My whakapapa is Maori. My faith is Islam. My identity is both, completely.
When the neighbourhood changed, our community hall became the place everyone came to — for everyone who needed it.
They diagnosed me with bipolar disorder at 21. In the chaos, I heard the Quran — and something clicked.
I spent twenty years giving lectures. Then a teenager taught me the ummah needs someone to shut up and listen.
It wasn't atheism that pulled me away. It was pain. And it wasn't theology that brought me back. It was mercy.
Our first year nearly ended because of whose family to visit for Eid. What saved us was an imam who understood setting boundaries.
When the neighbourhood changed, our converted shop became the only institution that stayed — for everyone who needed it.
Our first year nearly ended because of the wedding guest list. What saved us was an imam who understood honest communication.
I've answered 'aren't you hot in that?' approximately four hundred times. Here's my actual answer.
They said wearing my kufi would hold me back in law. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.