Over 150 Muslim scholars, imams, community leaders, and institutions in the United States and several other nations have now endorsed a joint statement expressing their view that governments of Arab Muslim nations should immediately cut any ties with Israel, including the so-called Abraham Accords, and take other concrete steps to force an end to the genocide in Gaza.

The statement, which was originally signed by over 80 individuals and institutions when first released in August, also says that Arab Muslim nations should ban the use of their airspace to support the Israeli government, announce consideration of an embargo on any oil or gas sales that benefit Israel, facilitate the travel of humanitarian convoys and flotillas attempting to break the siege on Gaza, and send a diplomatic aid mission to demand entry to Gaza.

Since the statement’s original publication on Aug. 8th, the Israeli government has killed hundreds more Palestinians and bombed various countries, including Tunisia, Syria, and now Qatar.

The joint statement reads, in part:

“Business as usual in international affairs is simply not working. We believe that the governments of the Muslim-majority nations of the world should not wait for the ‘international community’ to grow a conscience. This is especially true of Arab Muslim nations surrounding Palestine.

“We believe that these governments have the unique opportunity, legal authority, and moral basis to take greater, immediate, and concrete action to pressure the Israeli occupation to end this carnage.

“Although a genocide should matter to every single human being regardless of their faith, this genocide against a predominantly Muslim population carried out by an openly racist, anti-Muslim government should especially matter to the ummah of Prophet Muhammad, may peace be upon him. So should the fate of Palestine, including Masjid Al Aqsa.” 

Signatories to the statement argue that these Muslim-majority nations have the unique opportunity, legal authority, and moral basis to take various steps, such as:

1. Ending any economic, diplomatic, intelligence, and military relationships with the Israeli government, including the so-called Abraham Accords.
2. Announcing consideration of an embargo on global oil and gas sales that directly or indirectly contribute support to the Israeli government’s genocide.
3. Banning the use of their country’s airspace and the use of any military bases within their country to support the Israeli government in any way.
4. Opening their side of Gaza entry points, like the Rafah crossing, and facilitating the travel of aid trucks, medics, journalists, demonstrators, and others who wish to approach the crossing and demand entry.
5. Organizing a unified diplomatic mission to a Gaza crossing with senior government officials personally leading an aid convoy and refusing to leave until Israel allows unlimited aid to enter freely by land routes.

 

The full statement reads:

In the name of Allah, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful. All praise and thanks belong to Allah, the Lord of the Worlds. May peace and prayers be upon Prophet Muhammad, his family, and his Companions.

Al-Nu’man ibn Bashir reported that the Messenger of Allah, may peace and blessings be upon him, said, “The parable of the believers in their affection, mercy, and compassion for each other is that of a body. When any limb aches, the whole body reacts with sleeplessness and fever.”

We, the undersigned Islamic scholars, religious leaders, and institutions, write today to share our view that the political leaders of the world’s Muslim-majority nations should take greater, concrete action to stop the ongoing genocide of our brothers and sisters in Gaza.

We wake up every morning to see new images of men, women, and children in Gaza whose rib cages protrude through their skin because of starvation, whose heads have been hollowed out because of Israeli snipers, or whose bodies have been charred like charcoal because of a bombing.

We also see the Israeli occupation stealing more swathes of land across Palestine and threatening to expel surviving Palestinians from Gaza. We see mercenaries opening fire on crowds of starving Palestinians seeking food.

We see that, even under increasing international outcry, an insufficient trickle of aid enters Gaza while the death toll from both starvation and Israel’s indiscriminate attacks rises daily.

Despite the efforts of various human rights groups, brave journalists, nations like South Africa, and millions of protestors around the world, the Israeli occupation is now reaching the final stages of its campaign of extermination and expulsion.

The common regional response to Israel’s crimes—a foreign ministry issuing a statement of condemnation that calls on unnamed members of the international community to stop the genocide—has not stopped the genocide. Neither have calls for the deadlocked, ineffective and unrepresentative UN Security Council to take action.

Business as usual in international affairs is simply not working.

We believe that the governments of the Muslim-majority nations of the world should not wait for the “international community” to grow a conscience. This is especially true of Arab Muslim nations surrounding Palestine.

We believe that these governments have the unique opportunity, legal authority, and moral basis to take greater, immediate, and concrete action to pressure the Israeli occupation to end this carnage.

Although a genocide should matter to every single human being regardless of their faith, this genocide against a predominantly Muslim population carried out by an openly racist, anti-Muslim government should especially matter to the ummah of the Prophet Muhammad . So should the fate of Palestine, including Masjid Al Aqsa.

Although we recognize the geographic, financial, and military limitations that some governments in the Arab Muslim world face, it appears to us that these governments have many unused tools at their disposal.

Some of these governments control the most important parts of global oil production. Some of them host military bases used to resupply and support Israel. Others control airspace that is critical to the Israeli government and its ability to rearm. One controls a border crossing with Gaza. These nations have leverage. They just haven’t used it.

We therefore today express our view that the governments of Muslim-majority nations should go beyond harsh statements and diplomatic entreaties. Specifically, we believe that these governments could help end the genocide by:

1. Ending any economic, diplomatic, intelligence, and military relationships with the Israeli government, including the so-called Abraham Accords.
2. Announcing consideration of an embargo on global oil and gas sales that directly or indirectly contribute support to the Israeli government’s genocide.
3. Banning the use of their country’s airspace and the use of any military bases in their country to support the Israeli government in any way.
4. Opening their side of Gaza entry points like the Rafah crossing and facilitating the travel of aid trucks, medics, journalists, demonstrators and others who wish to approach the crossing and demand entry.
5. Organizing a unified diplomatic mission to a Gaza crossing with senior government officials personally leading an aid convoy and refusing to leave until Israel allows unlimited aid to enter freely by land routes.

Over the past two years, people around the world have bravely protested to demand an end to the Israeli occupation’s genocide in Gaza. These protesters—many of them not Muslim, Palestinian, or Arab—risked their jobs, reputations, and safety to stand up for our brothers and sisters in Palestine.

Now the governments of the Muslim world have an opportunity to reflect the wishes of their citizens by taking brave, unified action to help our brothers and sisters in Gaza.

We believe that if they take the aforementioned steps and use other appropriate tools at their disposal in an attempt to stop the genocide, the entire Muslim world and people of good faith around the world will rally around them.

We close with a prayer:

May Allah  grant the highest rank of Paradise to our brothers and sisters who have been martyred in Gaza, heal those injured, and comfort those who have lost loved ones.

May Allah  forgive the ummah for failing to do more to help our brothers and sisters in Gaza.

May Allah  guide the political leaders of the Muslim world to take effective action for our brothers and sisters in Gaza and uphold justice for all.

May Allah  inspire all of us to strive for justice with sincere intentions, wise decisions, effective strategies, and successful outcomes.

May peace and blessings be upon Prophet Muhammad , his family, and his Companions.

Ameen. 

 

CURRENT SIGNATORIES

Individuals

• Ruqia Abdi, Author and Educator
• Imam Sedin Agic
• Aftab Alam, President, The March 15th Forum
• Atiya Aftab, Esq.
• Imam Khalid Alkhalili, Fullerton Muslim Community Center
• Ajir Bilal Mahmud, Executive Director, OPOW
• Imam Mohamed Abdel Salam, Puyallup Islamic Community Center (PICC)
• Dr. Ismahan Abdullahi
• Professor Hamid Algar
• Shaykh Abdullah Al-Mahmudi
• Emad Al-Turk, Chairman- Mississippi for a Just World
• Imam Osama Alrefai
• Shaykh Hashim Ahmad, Senior Lecturer, DarulUloom Ashrafia San Francisco
• Shaykh Ibrahim Ali
• Imam Mohammad Ali Elahi
• Hafiz Ikhlas Ansari
• Atiya Aftab, Esq. / Kenneth Rasheed, Esq., Center for Islamic Life at Rutgers University
• Sheikh Abdullah Ateeque
• Nihad Awad, National Executive Director, Council on American-Islamic Relations
• Shoaeb Basha, Executive Director, American Muslim Health Professionals
• Dr. Hatem Bazian, President of Northern California Islamic Council
• Dr. Zahid Bukhari
• Imam Saffet Catovic
• Imam Chris Caras, Islamic Center of Pittsburgh
• Noorgul Dada, Chairman, Noor Islamic Cultural Center
• Imam Mohamed Dahir
• Dr. Abdelhafid Djemil
• Dr AbdAlAziz Eddebbarh, Imam Ibn Asheer Institute
• Imam John Ederer
• Imam Mohammed Ebrahim, ISSA – Islamic Society of the Seacoast Area
• Imam Mustapha Elturk
• Dr. Asif Hirani
• Imam Seyed Ali Ghazvini
• Imam Khalid Griggs, Executive Director, ICNA Council for Social Justice
• Dr. Ayman Hammous, Executive Director, Muslim American Society
• Dr. Suleiman Hani
• Dr. Altaf Husain
• Oussama Jammal, USCMO Secretary General
• Dr. Quraysha Ismail Sooliman
• Imam Is’Haaq Jasat
• Imam Ahmadullah Kamal, IQRA Cultural Center
• Maria Kari, Executive Director of Project TAHA
• Muhi Khwaja, American Muslim Community Foundation
• Shaikh Ahmad Kutty
• Sa’ad Quadri, Muslim Educational Center
• Yasser Louati, Comité Justice & Libertés (Committee for Justice and Liberties)
• Maulana Muhammad Faisal
• Edward Ahmed Mitchell, Deputy Director, Council on American-Islamic Relations
• Shaykh Suhail Mulla
• Ustadh AbdelRahman Murphy, Roots Community
• Shaykh Rami Nsour
• Imam Saeed Purcell
• Dr. Yasir Qadhi
• Dr. Mufti Muhammed Omer Rafique
• Okolo Rashid, Co-founder, International Museum of Muslim Cultures
• Emad Sabbah, President and Co-Founder, Ethaar
• Imam Mohamed Mukhtar Sayid
• Dr. Muzammil Siddiqi
• Imam Ali Siddiqui, Former Chairman, Peace with Justice Center, LaVerne, CA
• Chaplain Ahmed Shedeed, President, Islamic Center Of Jersey City
• Dr. Omar Suleiman
• Dr. Hebatullah Taha, President of the Board, CAIR Los Angeles
• Shaykh M Ihsaan Taliep
• Shaykh Dr. Salman Younas
• Imam Suhaib Webb
• Hena Zuberi, Editor-in-Chief, MuslimMatters
• Sheikh Abdullah Zaheed

Organizations

• Ahlulbayt Islamic Center of Columbus
• American Center for Justice
• American Islamic Cultural Center
• American Muslim Health Professionals (AMHP)
• American Muslims for Palestine (AMP)
• Arizona Muslim Alliance
• Australian Muslim Advocacy Network (AMAN)
• Center for Education and Research Nahla
• Center for Religious Tolerance (Masjid Usman) San Diego
• Center for Islamic Life at Rutgers University
• Comité Justice & Libertés (Committee for Justice and Liberties) (France)
• Council of Sacramento Valley Islamic Organizations (COSVIO)
• Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR)
• Dallas Peace and Justice Center
• Dar al-Hijrah Islamic Center
• Ethaar
• FEMYSO (Forum of European Muslim Youth and Student Organisations)
• Greenview Madani Center
• Hamzah Islamic Center
• Hershey Islamic Center
• Husaynia Islamic Society of Seattle
• ICNA Council for Social Justice
• Imam Council of Metropolitan St. Louis
• INSAN – Institutet för Samhällsanalys
• International Museum of Muslim Cultures
• IQRA Cultural Center
• Islamic Association of North America (IANA)
• Islamic Center of Boston Wayland
• Islamic Center Masjid Al-Sabereen
• Islamic Center of Irving
• Islamic Center of Maryland (ICM)
• Islamic Center of Morgantown
• Islamic Center of Passaic County
• Islamic Center of Pennsylvania
• Islamic Center of Pittsburgh
• Islamic Center of San Diego
• Islamic Circle of North America (ICNA)
• Islamic Community Center of Atlanta
• Islamic Council of Victoria
• Islamic Organization of North America (IONA)
• Islamic Society of Central Jersey
• Islamic Society of Chester County
• Islamic Society of North America (ISNA)
• Islamic Society of Orange County
• Islamophobia Studies Center
• ISSA – Islamic Society of the Seacoast Area
• Kitaab Academy
• Kurdish Community Islamic Center
• MAS Sacramento Region
• Mississippi for a Just World
• Mosque Foundation
• Muslim Alliance in North America (MANA)
• Muslim American Society (MAS)
• Muslim Anti-Racism Collaborative (MuslimARC)
• Muslim Community Of Folsom
• Muslim Community of Nassau County
• Muslim Educational Center
• Muslim Girl
• Muslim Legal Fund of America (MLFA)
• Muslim Peace Fellowship
• Muslim Rights Watch Belgium
• Muslim Students Association (MSA National)
• North American Imams Federation (NAIF)
• Noor Islamic Cultural Center
• Partei Für Muslime Plus (Germany)
• Peace Tree Mental Health
• Prince George’s County Muslim Council
• Sacramento Area League of Associated Muslims (SALAM)
• Salam Scouts
• San Ramon Valley Islamic Center
• Shia Muslim Council of Southern California
• Silicon Valley Islamic Center
• Tayba Foundation
• The Islamic Society of Central Delaware
• The March 15th Forum
• Tri-City Islamic Center
• UBM Advisory Services
• Ubudiyyah Life Centre
• US Council of Muslim Organizations
• We Love Our Neighbors
• Wisconsin Muslim Civic Alliance
• World Council of Muslims for Interfaith Relations
• Worry Free Community

The post 150 Muslim Leaders And Institutions Now Say Arab Muslim Nations Should Cancel Abraham Accords, Suspend Oil Sales, Close Airspace To Israel, And Send Diplomatic Aid Mission To Gaza appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Police do not rule out possibility of finding more as incidents raise alarm over increase of anti-Muslim hatred

At least nine pigs’ heads were found outside several mosques in the Paris region on Tuesday, the city’s police chief said, prompting alarm over rising anti-Muslim hatred.

“Pigs’ heads have been left in front of certain mosques ... Four in Paris and five in the inner suburbs,” Laurent Nuñez told a press conference, adding that officers were not “ruling out the possibility of finding more”.

Continue reading...

A man being arrested near the Brook Hotel in Norwich

Last Thursday in the Guardian, there was a letter from one Desmond Hewitt telling us we should watch what we say about the people ‘protesting’ outside hotels housing asylum seekers in the UK. Referring to an article by David Renton which suggested drawing a strong link with the convictions for domestic violence of a large number of the prominent ‘protesters’, he said that this would be “like a red rag to a bull to the many protesters not involved in crimes of domestic violence” which could be dismissed as a “lefty slur against all men protesting against immigration”. He also suggested that we call “Tommy Robinson” an Islamophobe, as he targets single Muslim men: “if we can’t get that blatant fact out there as our argument, then I’m afraid we are, as they say, screwed”. I wrote a letter in response, but have had no reply in my inbox, so here’s a response to it.

To take the question of “Tommy Robinson” first: he certainly is an Islamophobe, but that term doesn’t have the same ‘sting’ among the far right, or even much of the mainstream Tory right, these days that “antisemitism” has across the political spectrum, except when it’s used as a slur against anyone opposing the genocide of Palestinians, or the oppression they experienced for the several decades leading up to it. They claim “we’re not Islamophobes, we’re Islamo-realists” or some similar get-out based on a selective reading of Islamic history, entirely overlooking the history of the Muslims in their country. Robinson, however, has a long criminal record, much of it violent.

In footage of the ‘protests’ outside the asylum hotels, we have seen an awful lot of violence, not only aimed at the hotels and their residents but also against counter-demonstrators and other dissenters. Last week, for example, footage was shared on social media of a man talking to reporters outside the Brook Hotel, a Best Western hotel on the outskirts of Norwich, telling them among other things that the ‘demonstrators’ bothered him far more than the asylum seekers do by disturbing his sleep, which was interrupted by thugs who chased the man around before he took refuge with the police guarding the hotel itself; the goons’ supporters cheered it on, calling the young man an ‘infiltrator’. There have been scores of arrests at these events; these include attempting to enter the hotels and attacking police, as well as things like breaching bail conditions. Locals not involved — women included — often say, as did the young man at Norwich, that they find the ‘protesters’ far more threatening than they find the asylum seekers themselves.

You can tell a man by the company he keeps, and the people at these ‘protests’ do not seem to mind the company of thugs, nor to listen to the speeches of thugs. Whether they all have pre-existing convictions for domestic violence or not, they choose to attend gatherings outside people’s homes that are designed to threaten them, gatherings they know have ended in violence, and many of those without prior convictions will doubtless acquire some, as many have found out to their cost.

Young lawmaker Zarah Sultana electrifies UK grassroots with anti-Zionist stance.

the Cryptocurrency is Deek’s last chance to succeed in life, and he will not stop, no matter what.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13| Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

“You will not enter Paradise until you believe, and you will not believe until you love one another. Shall I tell you something which, if you do it, you will love one another? Spread peace between yourselves.”
– Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, Sahih Muslim, Kitab al-Iman

A Changed Appetite

Deek still felt weary, as he hadn’t gotten much sleep before the girls showed up and – thankfully – pulled him out of that awful dream with Queen Latifah embezzling all his treasure in exchange for a drink of water and a piss. Yes, he thought grudgingly. I understand the point of the dream. I get it.

Still, the makhlama had hit the spot, and he felt well enough to work. He’d been neglecting the cryptos, and that would not do. He fired up one of his computers. The girls had been impressed with his setup here, but it wasn’t that different from what he’d had back in the closet, except that the computers were state-of-the-art, and the screens were huge

Normally, he would grab a junk food snack before sitting down to work. His favorites were the Petit Ecolier cookies: buttery biscuits topped with chocolate squares. Somehow eating classy French cookies seemed like less of a sin.

Today, he felt no such craving. Though the emotional effects of the Namer’s potion had dissipated, it seemed the physical effects persisted. Instead, he put a bunch of grapes on a plate, said bismillah, and popped one into his mouth, relishing the bright sweetness. Forget Petit Ecolier! This tiny fruit, crisp on the outside yet bursting with juice, was the ultimate dessert. It was perfectly designed by Allah, and needed no factory or packaging. It was a miracle. How had he not realized this before?

Signs of a Frenzy

Reviewing his crypto holdings, he was stunned. Everything was up massively. Some of his tokens had tripled or more since he last checked. One of the AI tokens had done a x35. Even large-cap cryptos like Bitcoin, Ethereum, and Solana were skyrocketing. The hair stood up on the back of his neck.

Rather than visiting the usual cryptocurrency news sites and blogs, he brought up a mainstream news aggregator website and, popping a few grapes into his mouth, looked over the headlines. He didn’t even have to search for “cryptocurrency.” It was right there in the mainstream headlines:

“‘I Sold Everything To Buy Crypto’ – Buyers Make Desperate Moves as Crypto Frenzy Spreads.”

“Crypto Market Cap Increases By Billions as Retail Money Pours In.”

“Crypto: Dangerous Bubble or New Financial Paradigm?”

Skimming the articles, he saw that enthusiasm for crypto had reached fever pitch. Middle-class working people were mortgaging homes and selling their cars to buy Bitcoin. Financial analysts and writers who, a year ago, had proclaimed that crypto was dead, were now singing its praises. One wrote:

“Crypto has made me a believer. We are witnessing the birth of a new paradigm, that of decentralization. In this new market, everyone gets rich.”

Another said:

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to acquire generational wealth. Crypto is changing the very definition of finance. You can throw all the old rules out of the window: the day of DeFi has arrived.”

He checked the crypto Fear and Greed Index. It was at 93 out of 100, signifying a state of extreme greed, which meant that confidence in crypto was nearly total.

As a final check, he visited a website that monitored crypto inflows and outflows, meaning how much crypto was being sent to centralized exchanges to be sold, and how much was being withdrawn, to be held in long-term storage.

He saw what he expected to see. Very large holders, known in crypto parlance as whales, were quietly selling. Meanwhile, small buyers – called retail buyers – were flooding in, paying any price for the most popular tokens. The pension funds, investment funds, banks, and corporations were using the retail buyers as exit liquidity.

Deek had been through three crypto cycles, and he knew what this reckless, panicked buying signified.

The entire crypto market was about to crash.

The fall would be dramatic and steep. Even blue-chip cryptos could lose as much as 90% of their value in a bear market, while smaller tokens would become worthless.

The Exit

With shaking hands, he went through his wallets and sold all his holdings: blue chips, alts, meme coins, everything. He converted them into U.S. Dollar Coin, which itself was a type of crypto called a stablecoin, pegged to the value of the United States dollar.

Even stablecoins were not necessarily safe in a bear market, however. Deek had seen other stablecoins lose all their value, especially those that used computer algorithms to maintain their price. USDC was supposedly backed by actual, physical US dollars, but Deek didn’t want to risk it.

He sent the bulk of the USDC to a centralized exchange account he’d opened in the name of Milestone Investments, and swapped it all for Euros.

He now had $40 million in USDC in a few different wallets, and 352 million euros in the Milestone account, which at the current exchange rate equaled about 440 million dollars. If he continued to value his real estate holdings at $22 million, his net worth was now $502 million.

That was it, he was out of the crypto market. He would hold the USDC until the coming bear cycle ended and the next bull run began, which might take two years. Until then, he was done.

This was far too much money to leave sitting inert in a non-interest-bearing account. Later, he would think about how to invest it, perhaps with BAM!’s guidance.

Half a Billion

He sat back, overwhelmed. The grapes remained on the plate, mostly uneaten. Sweat had broken out on his forehead, and he wiped it with his t-shirt sleeve. His breath came heavy, as if he’d just run a marathon.

He slid from the chair and fell onto his knees and elbows on the marble floor. Head down, he focused on breathing. La ilaha il-Allah, he breathed, and it became a mantra. With every exhalation, la ilaha il-Allah. He remained like that until his knees became sore. He rolled up into a sitting position with his back against the wall.

Half a billion dollars. His net worth was now half a billion dollars. He could not fathom it. The numbers were like the high score on a video game. It was cool, but what could you do with it?

He needed to talk to someone. He needed guidance. But who? He could not let it be known in the community that he possessed this kind of wealth. He’d never have a moment’s peace. Someone would always be after him for a loan, partnership, or favor.

There were three options:

He could talk to his genius Puerto Rican friend who didn’t care about money and had just saved his life with a trumpet.

There was Imam Saleh, who Deek trusted implicitly, and was a wise and gentle man.

Three, Rania, his life partner, was also his best friend.

Zaid Karim was not on his list of confidantes. Deek had always had an image of the Palestinian private eye as an action hero, valiant and unstoppable, but shallow. Ever since he’d seen Zaid praying in the Namer’s backyard, however, surrounded by cats, he’d begun to understand that his portrayal of Zaid might be one-dimensional and unfair. He did not truly know the man. All the more reason, in any case, not to confide in him.

There was really only one choice in the end. He had to see his wife.

Deek’s body was a ruin whose foundation had crumbled beneath it. He let himself tip over to lie on the floor. It was a hot day outside, but the AC was running in here, and the marble was icy against his skin. Lying there, using an arm as a pillow, he tried not to think of the massive wealth he now possessed. It felt like a tiny coal burning on the outside edge of his brain, demanding that he do something. But he didn’t know what.

“What is a treasure worth,” Latifah had asked, “if you would give half to take water in, and the other half to let it out?”

The Gaza Decision

He closed his eyes and remembered the conversation between him and Zaid at the Namer’s house. “If you really want to give away a million dollars,” Zaid had said, “Give it to the charities in Gaza. The situation there is beyond dire. And purify your wealth in the process.”

Still lying on the floor, he took his phone out of his pocket and called Imam Saleh.

“As-salamu alaykum ya Deek Saghir! How is your iman today?”

“Umm… I don’t know.” The interrogatory confused him. He had to pause before continuing. “I have a question. Do you know any charities operating in Palestine, and especially in Gaza, that accept donations in cryptocurrency?”

“No one’s ever asked me that. I’ll text you some names of good charities, but I have no idea about the crypto angle. While I have you on the phone, would you be willing to do a seminar on cryptocurrency for the community? What it is, how to invest, and so on?”

Deek was not eager for publicity, but Imam Saleh was someone he deeply respected, so he simply said yes.

“Superb, mashaAllah. I’ll set it up.”

When Saleh sent the list of charities, Deek researched them. One, Helping Hand for Relief and Development, ran projects around the Muslim world, including in Palestine, and accepted crypto. They had a high rating on Charity Navigator.

He filled out a form on the HHRD donation page with his contact info, then selected USDC from a drop-down list of cryptos. From the many projects they had listed, he selected Palestine. In the amount field, he hesitated, then typed 10,000,000 and hit send. He was given a USDC address, which he copied. Opening his crypto wallet, he pasted the address and sent ten million USDC.

The little burning spot in his brain cooled. He closed his eyes, lay his head on his arm, and fell asleep to the sounds of the bubbling fountain and the susurration of the air breezing through the vent.

He woke up an hour later shivering with cold, and with a sore neck. His phone was buzzing on the floor.

“Hello?” His voice was the croak of a frog.

An Invitation Declined

“As-salamu alaykum. Is this brother Deek Saghir?” Pakistani, by the accent. Educated.

Still groggy, he wiped a bit of drool from his chin. “I guess so. That’s what my mother named me.”

“Brother Deek, did you mean to donate ten million dollars in crypto?”

“Oh.” He tucked one arm inside his shirt as a chill racked his body. “You’re from… HHRD?”

“My name is Mahboob Syed, I am the director of Helping Hand’s Los Angeles office.”

“Yes. I meant to.”

“Allahu Akbar. This is extraordinarily generous. Would it be possible for you to come to Los Angeles? We will pay for your transport.”

Deek remembered how this had impressed him when BAM! offered it. It had made him feel respected and important. Now it didn’t seem to matter.

“Why? To ask for more money?”

“Not at all. We only want to meet you.”

Deek rubbed his right cheek vigorously. “I appreciate the offer, brother Mahboob. I’ll take a rain check.”

“Very well, but I want to extend to you an invitation to see how your money is spent. I see you earmarked the money for Palestine. Some of the money will go to Palestinian refugee camps in Jordan and Lebanon, and some for food and medical supplies for Gaza. If you like, we will take you to the camps, and you can meet the refugees yourself. Many are widows and orphans.”

Deek sat up, rubbing his sore neck. “Wow. I could do that?”

“Absolutely. One of our donors recently threw an Eid party for the widows and orphans in the Ain el-Hilweh camp in Lebanon. Ain el-Hilwah has a high rate of extreme poverty, due to overcrowding, limited infrastructure, and lack of employment. One thing we will do with your money is create work projects to provide opportunities. For example, simply buying a sewing machine can enable a woman to work as a seamstress. With a donation like yours, we might build a small factory. You can see this with your own eyes. Often the refugees make dua’ for the donors.”

Thinking of the hardship of those people’s lives, and that the money he had earned through hard work and the blessing of Allah could make such a difference, warmth suffused Deek’s chest, and he stopped shivering.

“I’ll think about it. But spend the money as you see fit. I trust you.”

Mahboob made dua’ for Deek and his family, and they ended the call.

A Conduit

Deek sat, pensive. The thought of a room full of widows and orphans – women who had lost their husbands to Israeli violence and oppression, and children who were bereft, with no one but Allah to care for them – making dua’ for him, Deek Saghir, was humbling and almost frightening. Who was he that they should make dua’ for him? He was no one, just a fool who’d had the good fortune to get rich playing with imaginary money. They were the ones for whom the whole world should be making dua’. Yet most of the world had turned their backs on them.

He was beginning to realize what this money meant. This money had not been given to him to stay in expensive hotels and drive fancy cars. He was only meant to be a conduit. This realization gave him goosebumps.

For the first time in the last several days, he did not feel lost. Rather, he felt like a man in a cave who has just glimpsed the tiniest bit of sunlight in the distance.

He rose and made wudu, prayed ‘Asr, then changed into another of his tailored suits. This one was deep midnight blue with a subtle herringbone pattern that caught the light when he moved. The jacket hugged his shoulders perfectly, tapering to a slim waist, the fabric cool and weighty against his skin. Underneath, he chose a crisp white shirt with French cuffs, each fastened with small square cufflinks of black onyx set in silver. His belt and shoes matched—a rich espresso brown, polished to a mirror shine. The scent of his aftershave—cedar and bergamot—was subtle, like the scent of a forest lying just on the other side of a rise.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized that he’d lost a lot of weight. The protruding belly was gone, with only a slight rounding remaining. His face looked ten years younger. It was a welcome feeling to look in the mirror and feel good about himself for once.

Dreaming of Home

The auto detailing shop was on the other side of town. The hotel concierge provided a town car, and ten minutes later, he was in the back seat, being driven by a young black man with a fade cut, who, Deek learned during the course of the ride, was Afro-Panamanian but had never been to Panama. He wore gray slacks and a baby blue dress shirt worn thin at the shoulders.

“One day I’ll visit the land where my parents grew up,” the youth said wistfully, “I print pictures off the internet and put them in frames from the Dollar Store.”

Deek felt a surprising pang of recognition. He understood that longing completely. His family had left Iraq when he was nine years old, one step ahead of the mukhabarat – the Iraqi secret police – but carrying the vivid colors and scents of their homeland in their hearts. He remembered the narrow streets of his neighborhood, the smell of lamb grilling in the air, and the laughter of cousins in the courtyard. His family had fled tyranny and violence, and he had never returned. Yet in quiet moments, he still dreamed of it.

Now, for the first time, he realized he could go back. Not as a refugee boy clutching his father’s hand, but as a man with the means to stay in the best hotel, hire protection, and walk those streets again without fear.

When the young driver dropped him off, Deek opened his wallet. He was going to tip the youth twenty dollars, but on impulse, he took three thousand dollars from his wallet and handed it to the astonished driver. “Tell me about your trip when you get back. And buy me a Panama hat.”

Before the kid could formulate a reply, Deek was out of the car and moving on.

Goodbye Little Beauty

The Porsche was pristine. They’d cleaned it, tuned it up, and repaired the window. If they had noticed any lingering smell from Deek’s embarrassing intestinal accident, no one said anything. Deek paid the bill and took off.

He rolled up to the Porsche dealership on North Palm and was greeted by a fit and tanned young salesman in a black suit, with neatly cut blond hair and green eyes. He could have been a model if his cheeks had not been pockmarked by acne scars.

The salesman had barely introduced himself as Denny when Deek said, “I want to sell my car.”

Denny looked it over. “This is a classic model. You looking for something newer?”

“I don’t want to buy. Just sell.”

“Anything wrong with it?”

“It’s cursed.”

Denny blinked. “It’s a lemon? I’m sorry, we wouldn’t be interested in -”

“Nothing like that. It runs like a dream. But violence follows it.”

The salesman laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Can our shop check it out?”

“Go for it.”

The dealership lounge had a box of donuts on the table and a selection of fruits. Deek ignored the donuts and took a banana. He browsed a copy of the Los Angeles Times, skimming the international news. The articles about the Middle East carried a heavy pro-Israeli slant. It was undisguised and flatly racist. Disgusted, he threw the rag back onto the table.

Denny returned. “You were right. The car’s in good shape. We can offer forty thousand.”

Deek laughed. “It’s worth triple that.”

“I can go up to fifty.”

Deek’s face flushed. He was suddenly fed up with Americans and their deceptions. “Give me the keys. I’ll give it away to one of my friends before I sell it to you thieves.”

Denny handed over the keys reluctantly, and Deek walked away.

“Eighty-five!” Denny called after him. “Final offer!”

Deek whirled and pointed at him. “You should have started with that.”

Denny trotted up to him, grinning. “Hey, you’re Arab, right?”

“So?”

“I’ve visited lots of Arab countries. Negotiating is part of your culture. Tawwel baalak.” He held his hand palm up, fingers bunched together, and moved the hand up and down.

The use of the Arabic phrase and hand gesture, both meaning “take it easy,” made Deek snort with laughter. He studied the globe-trotting salesman for a moment, then thrust the keys back at him. “Make it ninety and you can write it up.”

Before he left, he paused beside the Porsche and ran his hand over the gleaming black roof. What a gorgeous little car. Machinery, art, and adrenaline wrapped in one small package. “Goodbye, little beauty,” he said. “I’m sorry I said you were cursed. Tawwel baalak, ya habibti.” In saying this, he meant the phrase in its literal sense, which was something like “lengthen your mind.” May the little car have a long and productive life.

New Ride, New Mission

He walked across the street to the Carmax used car lot and selected a two-year-old, twilight blue Kia Sportage. The compact, Korean-made SUV seated five people and had a V-6 engine and cloth seats. It was solid but definitely not a luxury vehicle, and actually rather ordinary looking. Which was what he wanted. Hopefully, no one would shoot him in the face over a used Kia.

He paid for it with his Milestone Investments card and drove away, loving the high perspective and smooth ride.

He parked under the shade of a tree in the Walmart lot nearby, and called Lubna.

“Hello, Deek. You’re not coming by again, are you? I just got off work, I’m tired.”

“As-salamu alaykum my beautiful sister. You know what, your family is very lucky to have you. And I see how hard you work. I admire you a lot.”

“Deek, tell me really.” She sounded genuinely worried. “Is there something wrong with you?”

He chuckled. “There are lots of things wrong with me. Speaking of your job, have you given notice yet?”

“Should I? Are things underway?”

“You need to get them underway.”

“Me? I’m just the principal.”

Tasks for Lubna

“I need you to take an active role,” Deek explained. “You’ve already been paid, after all. First, set up a board of directors. I’ll be the board president, you’re the vice president, and I would like Imam Saleh to be on it. We’ll need a Treasurer and Secretary as well, that makes five, and let’s say two more, for a total of seven. You might consider Safaa, my wife’s cousin, and a lawyer would be good too. But it’s up to you. Once you’ve done that, file for non-profit status.”

“Hold on, I need to write this down.”

Deek gave her a minute, then she said, “Anything else?”

“Yes. Start looking for teachers. We’ll begin next school year. I want people who are enthusiastic and malleable. Definitely no one who’s stuck on old-world methods. Also, we’ll need a curriculum. I’m sure there’s a lot more. We need someone with experience running a school.”

“Hold on. I’m writing.” A few moments later, she said, “What will you be doing while I’m handling all this?”

“Looking for a building. We need a property zoned for school use, or that can be rezoned. It should have plenty of land for future growth.”

“I feel like you’re entrusting me with a lot. I don’t know if I can do all this. You might -” her voice broke, and Deek sat up straight as he realized for the first time that Lubna was frightened. “You might have picked the wrong one,” she finished.

“No, my dear sister. I picked exactly the right one. You are smart and capable, and you have a huge heart. I absolutely know you can do it. I’m honored to be working with you. Don’t forget, the first task is to pick the board of directors. You can delegate to them and consult with them.”

“Deek, come on.”

“What?”

“Who are you? You seem like a different person. Why are you being so nice to me?”

This made Deek cry. It happened suddenly, unexpectedly. Tears came to his eyes, and he put his face in his hands, trying not to sob, but he couldn’t help himself, and a formless sound escaped. It was embarrassing. Now that the Namer’s potion had worn off, his emotions were like a herd of mustangs running roughshod through his heart.

“Deek? What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry I was so unkind to you that my being nice makes you think I’m dying.”

“Okay, big bro. Stop or you’ll make me cry too. I don’t understand what’s happening with you, but I can tell that you’ve genuinely changed. The way you’re acting, this is the big brother I always wished for. I used to make dua’ to Allah to change you, did you know that?”

This wounded Deek. He began to weep in earnest and ended the call, so that Lubna would not hear. He put his forehead on the steering wheel. When he was done, one side of his face was streaked with tears, and the bandage on his left eye was wet.

New Vision

He went into the Walmart, washed up in the bathroom, then bought gauze and medical tape, facial tissues, and a sports drink. Back in the car, he gingerly removed the bandage, shielding his eye from the brightness of the afternoon sunlight. He tested his injured eye, blinking several times, then slowly removed his hand. He looked around at the mostly empty lot, and the scattered trees providing oval-shaped blobs of shade. His eye was fine. There was no pain. He looked in the rearview mirror. There was no indication of injury.

Just as the Namer’s potion had healed the rest of his injuries with its final burst of potency, it had healed his eye. He let out a big breath, then took a swig from the sports drink.

The girls had told him that Rania’s schedule was 3 to 3. It was now six o’clock in the afternoon. He would go visit her at her job. The last time he did that, she snapped at him and told him not to bother her. Deek needed to know where he stood with her now. Had anything really changed? It was time to find out.

First, though, he needed to clear his thinking and his heart. For that, he needed the river.

* * *

[Part 21 will be published next week inshaAllah]

 

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

Related:

Pieces of a Dream | Part 1: The Cabbie and the Muslim Woman

Gravedigger: A Short Story

The post Moonshot [Part 20] – New Eyes, New Mission appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Newspaper of record issues correction following inquiry.

Five Palestinian boys remain missing after being abducted by Israeli soldiers at aid points in Gaza.

Apply the lessons of history and face prospect of jail.

Haya Murtaja’s heart stopped after Israel resumed its attacks on Gaza in March.

We spent nearly a month eating just lentil soup. My health has declined. My face has grown thin and pale.

Brussels denounced factual poster campaign as “evil act.”

Lawmaker’s anti-genocide constituents attacked by “security” at town hall.

Nesma, 17, embodies perseverance as a form of resistance.

University of South Wales says it has no blanket policy rejecting Palestinian students following Electronic Intifada inquiry.

Cryptocurrency is Deek’s last chance to succeed in life, and he will not stop, no matter what.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13| Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

“If you’re not careful, the world will have you loving the things that will destroy you.” — Malcolm X

Start With Your Eye

Like fog lifting from the glittering surface of the San Joaquin River under the noon sun, Deek’s mind began to clear. He blinked at his two daughters, one – Sanaya – looking irritated, and the other – Amira – mostly worried.

As he began to sit up, Amira grabbed his hand and pulled, supposedly helping him up but nearly pulling his arm out of the socket. The crazy kid always did this, even though he’d asked her many times not to. It was like she thought he was invulnerable, and his body was a toy for her to knock around.

“Miri! Take it easy. You can see that I’m hurt.”

“Why are you hurt?” Sanaya demanded.

Deek put on his slippers, and picked up the bag of dirty clothes. “Where do I start?”

“With your eye.”

“I need a shower. There are groceries in the kitchen. Could you two make makhlama while I clean up?”

Sanaya grimaced. “I thought you were inviting us to lunch. Now we have to cook? And you didn’t answer the question.”

“Fine, order room service. I just missed Iraqi food, that’s all.” He picked up the dirty clothes and dumped them in the closet hamper.The maid would take them to be cleaned. “To answer your question, I got glass in it.”

“How?”

“The kid I bought the car from broke the car window and attacked me.”

He had always been very honest with the girls, even when they were little. He believed this was the reason for their trust in him, which had always been full to brimming.

“Why did he do that?” Sanaya asked.

“No idea. He said his dad was sending him back to Yemen, but what that has to do with me, I don’t know. I guess his dad didn’t like him selling me the car. Although I paid more than it was worth. Now – “ He pointed to the two girls – “order room service, or cook something.” In a German accent, he added, “I’ll be back.”

“Okay, Terminator,” Amira said. “Or should I say Babanator.”

“Baba,” Amira called out to him as he went into the bathroom. “There’s a fountain in your living room.”

“I know, Miri.”

Makhlama

Ten minutes later he exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam, hair neatly combed, just a dab of French cologne on his neck, and wearing the jeans and Hawaiian shirt he’d had on when he first left the house. He was sure the girls were freaking out about everything going on, and didn’t want to add to it by wearing one of his expensive new suits.

Makhlama

To his extreme pleasure, he found the girls in the kitchen making makhlama. Sanaya had diced a large onion and caramelized it in olive oil, then added two chopped tomatoes, turmeric, salt and black pepper, and some chili flakes.

In a second pan Amira had scrambled several eggs. As Deek watched, the girls combined the contents of the two pans, and the makhlama was complete. The scent took him home and made him close his eyes in sweet memory. He was back in that hot little apartment on Millbrook Avenue, when he and Rania were first married. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder in the tiny kitchen, cooking together, and completely happy in spite of their poverty.

“Lunch is served,” Sanaya said with a sweep of her arm.

They sat in the small but elegant dining room, pouring glasses of orange juice. Deek said the dua’ he’d taught the girls when they were little, and that he still said before mealtimes:

Bismillahi, wa barakat-illah.
In Allah’s Name, with blessings near,
We thank Him for this family dear.
We thank Him for the food we chew,
and thank Him ‘cause we’re Muslim too.

The food was delicious, and as he took the first bites he found tears welling up in his eyes. Yes, the Namer’s potion had definitely dissipated. But that was fine. The potion had taught him that he could open his heart, he could speak words of love, and the experience would not destroy him. The words were there. He only had to plug them into the microphone.

Not A Gunfight

“What about this one?” Amira reached out and roughly tapped the scar on his forehead, which made Deek flinch in surprise, as he could not see on that side. “How did you get it?”
“Some gangster shot me. Fortunately he was a bad shot.”

Both girls stopped eating, staring at him in horror.

“You’re kidding,” Sanaya said finally.

“No. After the Yemeni kid beat me, I managed to throw him to the ground. Then these gangsters wanted to steal the car. I pulled a knife, and one of them shot me. It was just a graze. Then Marco – my friend Marco, remember? – stepped out of nowhere and brained the guy with a trumpet. A trumpet!” Deek laughed, then saw that no one was laughing with him. In fact, the girls were looking at him as if he had completely lost his mind.

Sanaya cleared her throat. “Dad… I have no idea what to say.” Her voice increased in volume as she threw her arms out wide. “What is going on? You left mom, you’re living like a cross between a stumblebum and a deposed king, and getting in gunfights? What are we supposed to think?”

“For real though,” Amira seconded. “This is totes cray.”

“It wasn’t a gunfight,” Deek muttered. “I only had a knife.” He scooped a big bite of makhlama into his mouth. “Gunfight,” he said while chewing, “implies that two people were shooting at each other.”

“Dad!” Sanaya slapped the table, making the dishes bounce.

Straight Up

Deek put his fork down. “Alright. Here it is, straight up. I struck it rich in crypto. Really rich, alhamdulillah. Around the same time, I got fed up with your mom’s attitude. Partly because she’s been frequently unkind with me the last few years, and partly because she refused to believe me when I told her about the crypto. I’m still not even sure that she believes me. And she confessed something, which she can tell you or not herself -”

“We know about the doctor at work,” Sanaya said. “I was there when she said it, remember? She changed departments and shifts, by the way. She doesn’t work with him anymore.”

“Okay, well, that’s good. So there was that too. It was all too much. I needed some space to think. So I left. Not because of the money, that has nothing to do with it. Secondly, I bought the Porsche from a Yemeni youth named Shujaa. I didn’t know that the boy is unstable, and his family are basically gangsters. The car was a gift from his father, and his father became angry. And Shujaa claimed I ripped him off. So his dad came after me, which I managed to get out of that situation alhamdulillah, then the kid came after me. End of story.”

Sanaya held up a hand. “Shujaa Tzan’ani? That Shujaa?”

Deek lifted his chin in disapproval, not happy that his daughter knew the young tough. “How do you know him?”

“I don’t. I have Yemeni friends, and people talk. That family is bad news, Dad.”

“I know that now.”

“So…” Amira ventured. “Are you coming home?”

Deek shrugged. “I need to talk to your mom, find out where her head is. I love her very much, and I miss her so much it hurts. But I want to be treated with respect. I won’t go back to being doubted, talked down to, and humiliated. I just can’t.

“Mom loves you,” Sanaya said. “Whatever mistakes she’s made.”

“And I love her.”

“Okay, so?” Amira demanded.

Deek sighed. “I don’t know.”

What About Us

“And what about us? Are you leaving us?” Amira’s voice was hesitant and sad.

Deek smiled and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “I love you both so much. I’m very proud of you. You will always be my daughters, and we will always be close, no matter what. I walk in your shoes, you walk in mine.”

“Okay.” Amira rubbed her eyes. “But I don’t want you to divorce Mom.”

“Hey! No one said anything about divorce.”

“How much money did you actually make?” Sanaya inquired.

“A lot. Millions. Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you Sanaya, I know you’re doing well at City College mashaAllah, but if you ever want to transfer, I will pay for it. Even an Ivy League school. Also, you don’t have to work anymore if you don’t want to. You’re both going to be receiving large monthly allowances directly into your bank accounts. And your mom too. I’ll discuss that with her first, then tell you the details.”

Sanaya looked dubious. “This… allowance… will it be more than I make at work?”

“Way more. Now can I get back to eating the makhlama? It’s the best thing I’ve tasted in a week.”

“I think he’s legit telling the truth about everything,” Amira said matter-of-factly.

Sanaya studied her father thoughtfully. “Dad always tells the truth. It’s one of his redeeming qualities.”

“I didn’t know I needed to be redeemed.”

“You do,” Sanaya said seriously.

Questions

“So we’re rich now?” Amira asked.

“Yes,” Deek mumbled with his mouth full.

“That’s boss. We can go on vacations?”

“Yes.”

“I can get a car of my own?”

“Yes, when you get a license.”

“Has it occurred to you,” said his elder, college educated daughter, “that if you were to gain the world and lose your family, you would in reality lose everything?”

Deek gave her a serious look. “Yes.”

Amira flicked his ear. “I feel like you just want us to shut up so you can inhale the makhlama.”

Deek grinned. “Yes.”

“One more thing, Dad,” Sanaya said. “You say the money has nothing to do with you leaving. But have you considered that if you didn’t have the money, you wouldn’t have left, because you’d have nowhere to go? Without Mom supporting you, you were broke.”

Respect, Love Or Mercy?

Deek put down the fork and sat up straight. “That’s unkind. Our marriage is a partnership, or it’s supposed to be. And yes, I still would have left, even if it meant sleeping on Marco’s sofa, or in a cheap motel. I’ll tell you a truth about men, and you’d better remember it when you are married, inshaAllah.”

He held up a hand to forestall the impending objections. “Whenever that happens.”

“Alright.” Sanaya made a beckoning gesture. “Lay it on us.”

“A man’s dignity is as important to him as food or air. A man can stand poverty and pain. He can stand working until he’s about to fall down. He can stand being looked down on by others, if that’s the price he must pay to support his family. But when he comes home, he wants to be treated with respect. Not obedience! It’s not the same thing. A good man won’t care if you can cook, or if you’re a little overweight. He won’t expect you to automatically agree with him. But he will expect to be spoken to respectfully. That’s the secret to men.”

“Just to clarify,” Sanaya said, “this is the secret to Arab men, right? And what about love and mercy?”

Deek sat back in his chair. “Oh, I don’t know. All men, I think. As far as love, it’s women who want communication, security and love. Men just want respect and even admiration. That’s what love looks like to us.”

“Are you sure, Baba?” Amira raised an eyebrow. “‘Cause it sounds like you’re talking about a bear. Just treat the bear with respect and he’ll leave you alone!”

Deek laughed. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wa min ayatihi,” Sanaya began to recite, “an khalaqa lakum min-anfusikum...” She continued to the end of the ayah.

“And one of His signs,” she translated, “is that He created for you spouses from among yourselves so that you may find comfort in them. And He has placed between you compassion and mercy. Surely in this are signs for people who reflect. Surat Ar-Rum.”

She reached across the table and poked Deek’s chest above his heart. “Mercy, Dad. I’m sure respect is important, but I think Allah knows the secrets to men, women and marriage better than anyone, and He says compassion and mercy. So where is your compassion for Mom?”

Deek’s face was pale. He felt like Sanaya had struck him with a hammer, rather than a finger.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Class on marriage at Masjid Madinah. Are you upset?”

“No. I’m proud of you.”

What Do You Want?

“Baba.” Amira’s voice was unusually solemn, and Deek turned to her, meeting her two eyes with his one good one.

“What do you want more? All of this?” She waved an arm to encompass the luxury of the suite. “Or your family?”

Deek found himself speechless. He swallowed. When he spoke his voice was hoarse. “I’d give up all of my kingdom before I’d give up my family.”

Amira nodded, and let it drop.

Later, as the girls were leaving, Deek handed Sanaya the remaining backpack. “Give this to your mom. Be careful, there’s a lot of money in it.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred K, I think. Maybe two fifty, I forget.”

“What!” Samaya exclaimed.

“This new life,” Amira said, “is totes cray, for real.”

“Mom should be home right now,” Sanaya commented, “if you want to see her. Her new shift is three to three. I hate it, we hardly see her anymore.”

Deek shook his head. “I have to work a little. I’ll visit her later at the hospital, inshaAllah.”

“You promise?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

[Part 20 will be published next week inshaAllah]

 

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

Related:

Pieces of a Dream | Part 1: The Cabbie and the Muslim Woman

Gravedigger: A Short Story

The post Moonshot [Part 19] – Makhlama And The Secret To Men appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Numerous testimonies from Palestinians who have trekked to aid sites point to systematic Israeli efforts to humiliate and kill.

Today marks the launch of the FIFTH year of the Muslim Book Awards!

The Muslim Book Awards (MBA) is an annual celebration of Muslim voices in publishing, from mainstream publishers, Islamic publishers, or authors who self-publish. Hosted by MuslimMatters.org and featuring a panel of well-known Muslimah reviewers from Bookstagram, the MBA takes in nominations before finally judging the entries and announcing the winners on MuslimMatters!

MuslimMatters is proud to host the Muslim Book Awards.

What is Muslim Bookstagram?

Muslim Bookstagram is the unofficial name for the niche space on Instagram where Muslim book lovers reside! It is a vibrant community of readers, writers, librarians, bookstore owners, and all those who are bookishly inclined.

Book reviews are shared, new and old publications highlighted, and deep discussions about publishing, representation, and storytelling are had. Muslim Bookstagram has become both an amazing space for valuable conversations and a resource for Muslim parents, as well as anyone else interested in diverse, representative literature.

Who are the judges of the MBA 20245?

Amire Hoxha is a mechanical drafter by trade, a reader by heart, and the author of “AMAR’S FAJR REWARD“! Her meticulous nature helps her identify quality and assess books. Aside from her online presence, Amire has established, curated and grown her local masjid library for 7 years. Her background in Islamic knowledge has made her an authentic resource for Muslim parents wanting authentic Islamic books. Follow her on Instagram: @muslimkidsbooknook

Shifa Saltagi Safadi is the author of KAREEM BETWEEN (Putnam 2024), the AMINA BANANA chapter book series (Putnam 2025), the picture book THE GIFT OF EID (Holiday House 2025), and indie Muslim published SPELL IT LIKE SAMAR (2019), HEAVEN AT MAMA’S FEET (2021) and PEPPERONI, PITCHES, AND OTHER PROBLEMS (2021). Shifa shares her favorite Muslim books on her online instagram bookblog @muslimmommyblog and is an ELA middle school teacher, so books are basically her whole life! Shifa was born in Syria and immigrated to the US with her parents as a young girl. She lives near Chicago (GO BEARS!) with her husband and four children.

Kirin Nabi is a former Islamic School Librarian who now stewards three little free libraries, and posts about children’s and YA books by Muslim authors or books containing Muslim characters at www.islamicschoollibrarian.com. Find her on Instagram: @islamicschoollibrarian

Zainab bint Younus is a Canadian Muslim woman who writes on Muslim women’s issues, gender-related injustice in the Muslim community, and Muslim women in Islamic history. She also provides in-depth book reviews of Muslamic literature on her Instagram account, covering everything from YA and adult fiction, academic treatises, and Islamic religious literature. You can find her on Instagram (@bintyounus) and support her via Patreon.

Calling all Muslim authors, illustrators, and publishers!

Submissions are restricted to Muslim authors, illustrators, and publishers. If you’ve written, illustrated, or published a Muslim-books-awards-worthy book, we want to know about it!

Application Requirements:

Written by a Muslim author

A Muslim story: The story must involve clearly Muslim characters and at least some reference to elements of Islam.

Islamically appropriate: The story must not promote beliefs or actions that are clearly prohibited by Islam or go against Islamic values. This does NOT mean that characters don’t experience serious conflicts or go through challenges; it does mean that the final message should not be something that promotes unIslamic beliefs or actions (e.g. shirky beliefs, promoting LBGTQ relationships, praising zina).

Published between January 2025-December 2025

English language: Unfortunately, we do not have the resources or ability to include non-English-language books.

Must be prepared to provide sample pages upon request

Must be prepared to provide complimentary physical copies to all 4 judges

 No AI, whether used for writing or illustrations.

Submit Your Book!

Click here to submit your favorite Muslim publication of 2025 for the Muslim Book Awards!

Submissions will close on September 15, 2025, and winners will be announced in January 2026! There’s not much time, so hurry to submit your books today!

Support Our Official Sponsor!

Crescent Moon Bookstore is the generous official sponsor of the Muslim Book Awards 2023, 2024, and 2025! CMB carefully curates books, toys, games, stationery, and home decor for every Muslim household. Crescent Moon was created for all of us wanting to make our homes and the world a better place. A portion of all proceeds goes to several different children’s charities around the world for humanitarian aid. Crescent Moon Bookstore has an incredible selection of Muslim books for all ages, with free US shipping over $60.00 and free Canadian shipping over $125!

Related:

Muslim Bookstagram Awards 2021 – What Makes A Winning Story?

The post The Muslim Book Awards 2025 appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Israeli soldiers and settlers uproot thousands of olive trees in occupied West Bank as military raids intensify.

Deutsche Welle contributor shills for weapons industry.

Journalist murdered by Israel was my friend since childhood.