By Latifa Mbarak
It starts with my head leaning against a dome-shaped window and a bottle of water in my hand. The cold evening wind gushes erratically. I like the way the winter breeze blows, occasionally yet gently wafting my face.
Down the street Nairobi’s nightlife flows without a break, traffic is moving along the busy Mbagathi Highway, a matatu with a driver and no passengers. A truck filled with sand passes by. A lanky man in scruffy clothes trots the night; the bag strapped on his back is seemingly as heavy as his entire life. On the far end, UAP Tower illuminates the surrounding firmament.
I did it once. Walked into the room in the far right of the mosque and slid the windows open. I prayed right next to this particular window. Yes, it did earn me a cold that I’m still nursing. It had become a secret habit.
The darkness of the night is complete yet reassuring. Me, upper-hill’s sky-line and the weirdly comforting knowledge that none of those motorists imagined there was a girl with a bottle of water watching them from the window of a mosque.
From the mosque, the recitation of the Holy Quran slowly pours in from the speakers and settles straight into my heart. Really, I would sit there for as long as I could, if I could.
This room feels a lot like home. The view and the sliding window aside. Maybe it’s because that it’s a mosque whose foundations I saw been put up and even attended the opening ceremony. Or perhaps it’s because it also doubles up as a classroom, evidenced by the desks and chairs with pencil scribbles inscribed on them. The little kids leaving their mark and a trail of their innocence while at it. I know, because it’s a classroom I once sat in myself. That could be why walking into that particular room evokes a sense of comfort, warmth and safety.
Many things cross my mind on these nights. Sometimes you need to look outside to get a glimpse of what’s within. I know myself like the back of my hand yet still I was looking for myself in the cars, the lonely night-owl pedestrians.
During one of the nights, the Imam read the chapter on Light (I wasn’t very consistent in my Taraweh prayers at the Mosque so I was bound to miss a lot of Chapters of the Quran) There’s this particular verse that left me in tears.
Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The example of His light is like a niche within which is a lamp, the lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a pearly [white] star lit from [the oil of] a blessed olive tree, neither of the east nor of the west, whose oil would almost glow even if untouched by fire. Light upon light. Allah guides to His light whom He wills. And Allah presents examples for the people, and Allah is Knowing of all things.(Quran: 24:35)
This verse in depth talks about learning and striving to see things in His light, its one thing to just see. But then seeing things with His light gives a way clearer perspective. The niche represents an arch dented in a wall in which the lamp is kept. It’s kept in the arch for the light to bounce off its walls and be able to reflect to the entire room, here the arch represents the rib cage, and the light, the heart. Thinking about it in its depth had tears streaming down my cheeks. I stood there in prayer thinking that it’s His light that I need the most today, tomorrow and all the days of my life here in this world and the hereafter.
That His light is shone upon my heart, my mind and the words to illuminate this path that I’m on; Because Allah admits this world is weary. And this place is dark. So, so dark. And sometimes it gets so hard. Everything feels like it’s caving down.
Ramadhan is a light on its own. It shines upon our hearts, lives and just makes everything better. It takes away our worries, wipes away our tears. Ramadan makes our problems seem much smaller than they are.
That’s why I’m so sad to see this month leave, for we don’t even know if we’ll live to see the next, or if we did our best with what we had. But all in all, I pray that we are able to hold onto the light we got from this month for as long as we can. And that our hearts, our minds, and the paths remain illuminated with His light. Ameen!
