My husband and our children live in safety and comfort in Muslim-majority Malaysia. For the past few weeks before Ramadan, I noticed that there were already banners outside of restaurants advertising Ramadan buffets. There were already discussions around what we were going to wear for Eid. I would commiserate with my friends around our rush to pay back our qada fasts before Ramadan begins, and our intention to do better next time.  Alhamdulilah for the privilege of being part of the religious majority, in a country that is designed for Muslim families like mine.

Ramadan Intentions

My husband tells our children that every Ramadan, we aim to do better than the last. And this Ramadan, we’re trying to focus on cultivating a habit of daily dua. The most important dua we first encouraged our children to make is an avid hope that we all live to see Ramadan. Death is something we have the luxury of not thinking about while we’re rushing them through the busy school mornings. 

Gratitude Circles

It’s been a hit-and-miss process of figuring out consistent family rituals for us, but alhamdulilah, one ritual that has worked is our gratitude circle. After we pray Maghrib as a family, we take turns expressing one thing we’re grateful for, one thing that has been tricky, and one thing we’re looking forward to. In Ramadan, we can upgrade our gratitude circle by adding a sincere dua at the end for whatever we wish, and making dua for each other and the rest of the ummah. I hope that cultivating a habit of daily dua goes hand-in-hand with having shukr for all of our many blessings – and this is a much-needed reminder for me too.

Orienting Everything Back to Allah

Now that my children are all in primary school, they’re busy at school with their teachers and classmates. All my husband and I can do now is continue to instil as many Prophetic values when they are home with us – especially the habit of turning to Allah and asking Him for help, in all things. What I want them to develop – in addition to outward acts of worship like fasting and prayer – is a deep, internal connection and relationship with Allah . 

Turning Requests into Dua

“What I want them to develop is a deep, internal connection and relationship with Allah [swt]“[PC: Aldin Nasrun]

As much as my husband and I want to connect our children to success in the afterlife, they are still young and very much connected to their worldly desires. My children often have a constant barrage of requests for new toys and so on. Alhamdulilah, Allah sparked a creative solution for me. Instead of getting annoyed at my children’s often constant requests, I’ve realised three things:

1. Alhamdulilah, my children feel safe enough with me to confide their deepest desires, no matter how trivial. What seems small to me is actually a huge deal to them. 
2. Their childhood years living with me are so finite, and so foundational in their feelings of linking my husband and me with safety. Their teenage years feel so far away, but I want my children to know they can always come back to my husband and me when they run into more complex problems.
3. I’ve redirected their once-grating one-liners into a daily act of devotion. No matter what they ask me – within the realms of permissibility, of course! – I reply with my one simple one-liner: “Everything starts with dua.”

Sportscars, Dolls, and Phones

When my six-year-old asks for a toy sportscar, or my eight-year-old asks for another doll, or my ten-year-old asks for a phone, then my response remains the same – start with dua. Ask Allah first, before asking me. 

Turner of Hearts

My son was amazed when I told him that his duas can soften my heart and even his father’s. “So if I want something, but you say no, then Allah can make you say yes?” 

I nodded, very seriously. “Allah is the Turner of hearts.”

This gave my son a lightbulb moment of clarity, and I hope it can plant that seed of Allah’s Omnipotence. 

Ramadan in Times of Genocides

I talk to my children about how there are kids their age (and younger) who are struggling to find food to eat in Sudan and Palestine during regular days, and how their Ramadans look so different to ours. We are certain that there will be tasty food to eat at iftar time, but that isn’t the case for so many families. What we can do is continue to boycott unethical brands, and get into the habit of setting aside money to donate to trustworthy charities. 

Conclusion

Childhood is such a crucial time to set foundational habits that will serve our children well not only in this life, but also in the next, inshaAllah. Orienting all their desires to Allah , the Most-Generous, is a daily act of devotion that I hope and pray will stay with them for the rest of their lives.

 

Related:

– Beyond The External Trappings: Teaching Children The True Essence Of Ramadan

– The Key To Raising Children With The Book Of Allah? Getting Them Started Young

 

The post Cultivating A Lifelong Habit Of Dua In Children appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

This series is a collaboration between Dr. Ali and MuslimMatters, bringing Quranic wisdom to the questions Muslim families are navigating.

The Loyalty Trap

Here’s the conversation happening in Muslim homes right now:

Teen: “I know my friends are bad for me. But we’ve been tight since sixth grade. What should I do?”

Parent: “Just get new friends.”

Teen: shuts down completely

The parent isn’t wrong. But they’ve completely missed why this is so hard.

Because for a teenager, walking away from a long-term friendship isn’t just losing a friend.

It’s losing:

• Shared history
• Social identity
• The people who probably saw them through their hardest moments
• The people with whom they may have shared some of their most formative memories
• Their entire sense of belonging

“Just get new friends” is about as helpful as telling someone with depression to “just be happy.”

What teens actually need: A framework for understanding when loyalty becomes self-destruction—and permission to choose themselves.

The Quran provides both.

The Story Most People Skip

Surat al-Kahf (The Cave) is famous for being read every Friday. But most people rush past its opening story without taking the time to reflect on the message that story conveys.

The Companions of the Cave weren’t just people who hid in a cave.

They were young people who walked away from everything:

• Their families
• Their friends
• Their city
• Their entire social world

Because staying meant compromising, and most likely losing, their faith.

Surat Al-Kahf, ayah 13:

نَّحْنُ نَقُصُّ عَلَيْكَ نَبَأَهُم بِٱلْحَقِّ ۚ إِنَّهُمْ فِتْيَةٌ ءَامَنُوا۟ بِرَبِّهِمْ وَزِدْنَـٰهُمْ هُدًۭى

“This is their story in truth: They were youth people who believed in their Lord, and We increased them in guidance.”

“Young people.” Not scholars. Not elders. Young people—like your teen—who made an impossibly hard decision.

And what did Allah do?

He protected them. He gave them comfort. He made their story a lesson for all of humanity until the Day of Judgment.

They chose Allah over comfort. And Allah chose them.

The Key Ayah Parents Need to Know

Surat Al-Kahf, ayah 28:

وَٱصْبِرْ نَفْسَكَ مَعَ ٱلَّذِينَ يَدْعُونَ رَبَّهُم بِٱلْغَدَوٰةِ وَٱلْعَشِىِّ يُرِيدُونَ وَجْهَهُۥ ۖ وَلَا تَعْدُ عَيْنَاكَ عَنْهُمْ تُرِيدُ زِينَةَ ٱلْحَيَوٰةِ ٱلدُّنْيَا ۖ وَلَا تُطِعْ مَنْ أَغْفَلْنَا قَلْبَهُۥ عَن ذِكْرِنَا وَٱتَّبَعَ هَوَىٰهُ وَكَانَ أَمْرُهُۥ فُرُطًۭا

“Stay patient in the company of those who call upon their Lord morning and evening, seeking His Face. Don’t look beyond them, desiring the luxuries of this worldly life. And do not obey those whose hearts are heedless of Our remembrance, who follow only their desires, and who are in total loss.”

This ayah is a direct command—not a suggestion:

1. Be patient with righteous people – even if they’re less exciting, less popular, less fun
2. Don’t be dazzled by worldly appeal – the cool friend group isn’t worth your deen
3. Do not obey those heedless of Allah – even if they’re charismatic, loyal, or longstanding friends

If your teen has friends pulling them away from Allah—this ayah is speaking directly to their situation.

The Prophetic Warning

The Prophet ﷺ said:

الْمَرْءُ عَلَى دِينِ خَلِيلِهِ فَلْيَنْظُرْ أَحَدُكُمْ مَنْ يُخَالِلُ

“A person is on the religion of their close friend, so let each of you look to whom they take as a close friend.” (Abu Dawud, Tirmidhi)

And:

“The example of a good companion and a bad companion is like a perfume seller and a blacksmith. The perfume seller might give you some perfume or you might buy from him, or at the very least you will enjoy a good smell. The blacksmith, however, might burn your clothes, or at the very least you will be exposed to smoke.” (Bukhari, Muslim)

The blacksmith analogy is critical:

The blacksmith isn’t trying to burn your clothes. They’re not a bad person. They’re just doing what blacksmiths do.

But you still leave with burns to your clothes and smelling like smoke.

Your teen’s friends don’t have to be malicious to be harmful.

They just have to be consistently pulling in the wrong direction.

Warning Signs: When Friendship Becomes Toxic

For Parents—Watch For:

1. Gradual prayer abandonment: They used to pray. Now they don’t. When did it start? Who did they start spending more time with around that time?
2. Increasing secrecy: Hiding their phone. Vague about where they’re going. Defensive about who they’re spending time with.
3. Personality shift: The teen you knew—their humor, their values, their interests—is disappearing. They’re becoming someone else.
4. Pulling away from Islamic activities: Used to come to the masjid, halaqa, youth group. Now makes excuses every time.
5. Defending friends no matter what: Even when their friends’ behavior is clearly wrong, your teen defends it aggressively. This often signals that loyalty has become identity.
6. “You just don’t like my friends”: When you raise concerns, they accuse you of being judgmental. This deflects from the actual issue.

For Teens: The Four Questions

Before deciding whether to walk away from a friendship, honestly answer:

1. Am I a better Muslim when I’m with them, or worse? Not “are they Muslim?” but “do I pray more or less when I’m around them?” “Do I make good choices when I am around them?”
2. Do I compromise my values to keep this friendship? If maintaining the friendship requires hiding your Islam, skipping prayers, or participating in haram—that’s your answer.
3. Do they respect my boundaries, or constantly push against them? Real friends—Muslim or not—respect your values even when they don’t share them. Toxic friends mock, pressure, and manipulate.
4. Would I be proud to stand before Allah with this friendship on my record? Not “would I be embarrassed?” but “would I be ashamed?” If you’d be ashamed, you already know.

Never forget this story from the Quran, from Surat as-Saafaat [37: 51-57]:

قَالَ قَآئِلٌ مِّنْهُمْ إِنِّى كَانَ لِى قَرِينٌ

“One of them will say: ‘I had a companion.”

يَقُولُ أَءِنَّكَ لَمِنَ الْمُصَدِّقِينَ

“Who used to say, ‘Are you one of those who believe?”

أَءِذَا مِتْنَا وَكُنَّا تُرَاباً وَعِظَـماً أَءِنَّا لَمَدِينُونَ

“(Like) That when we die and become dust and bones, that we will be indebted.” (Ibn ‘Abbas, may Allah be pleased with them both, said (that this means), “Rewarded or punished according to our deeds.”)

قَالَ هَلْ أَنتُمْ مُّطَّلِعُونَ

“He then said, ‘Will you look down’” (meaning, the believer will say this to his companions among the people of Paradise.)

فَاطَّلَعَ فَرَءَاهُ فِى سَوَآءِ الْجَحِيمِ

“So, he looked down and saw him in the midst of the Hell-Fire.”

قَالَ تَاللَّهِ إِن كِدتَّ لَتُرْدِينِ

“He said, ‘I swear by Allah! You nearly ruined me.” (The believer will say, addressing his former friend, “By Allah, you nearly caused me to be doomed, if I had obeyed you.”)

وَلَوْلاَ نِعْمَةُ رَبِّى لَكُنتُ مِنَ الْمُحْضَرِينَ

“Had it not been for the grace of my Lord, I would certainly have been among those in Hell.”

Your decision can have some serious consequences. That’s why this is so important.

Why “Just Get New Friends” Doesn’t Work

Parents often make this mistake: Identifying the problem (toxic friends) without addressing the solution (where do better friends come from?).

Telling a teen to leave a friend group without providing an alternative leaves them:

• Isolated
• Resentful
• Likely to return to the toxic group out of loneliness

The Companions of the Cave didn’t just walk away from their society. They walked away together.

They had each other.

Before encouraging your teen to walk away, ask:

• Is there a Muslim youth group they can connect with?
• Is there an MSA at their school or nearby university?
• Is there a halaqah, Quran class, or Islamic program where they could meet peers?
• Are there Muslim families in our community with teens the same age?
• If you are far from the jamaa’ah, I often tell parents that this means that they might have to sacrifice. Yes, maybe where you live now you have a great job, but you should seriously consider moving to a place where your children’s deen is protected. This is the concept of hijrah, which can include another city in the same country, not just another country.

The exit from toxic friendships must have a destination.

The “Just Say No” Problem

Here’s what most Islamic advice gets wrong about toxic friendships:

It tells teens to “be strong” and “resist temptation” without addressing the environment.

But the Prophet ﷺ didn’t just tell the early Muslims to “be strong” in Mecca.

He commanded hijrah—a physical departure from a toxic environment.

Environment matters more than willpower.

If your teen is the only practicing Muslim in their friend group, they’re swimming upstream every single day.

They can be strong. But eventually, they’ll be exhausted.

The goal isn’t resilience alone. It’s strategic community building that builds true resilience.

Your teen needs a tribe that pulls together in the same direction they’re trying to go.

The Hardest Part: The Aftermath

Walking away from toxic friends is hard. What comes after is harder.

The loneliness phase: For weeks—sometimes months—your teen may feel completely alone.

This is the most dangerous window. Because the old friends will reach out. And the emptiness will make those messages feel irresistible.

What parents can do during this phase:

1. Don’t say “I told you so” – Even if you were right, this closes the door
2. Increase family connection – Be more present, more fun, more engaged
3. Actively help build new connections – Don’t just say “find better friends”—make introductions, create opportunities
4. Validate the grief – “I know this is really hard. Losing friends hurts even when it’s the right decision.”
5. Point to the story of Ashab al-Kahf – Allah gave them something better. He will for your teen too.

As the Prophet ﷺ guarantees for us:

“For sure, you will never leave anything for the sake of Allah, except that Allah will replace it with something better for you.” (Ahmad—authenticated by al-Arna’oot)

A Note on Gradual vs. Clean Breaks

Not every toxic friendship requires a dramatic exit.

Sometimes:

• Gradual distancing is safer (especially if the friendship has volatile elements)
• Redefining the relationship works (staying connected, but changing the dynamic)
• A direct conversation is appropriate (especially for longstanding friendships and especially if that friend is also Muslim—don’t abandon them to sin, support them to make better choices)

When a clean break is necessary:

• The friend is pressuring toward serious haram
• Your teen feels unsafe saying no
• Every contact pulls them back in

When gradual distancing is better:

• There’s history worth honoring
• The friendship has potential to improve
• A sudden exit would be dramatic or unsafe

Help your teen think through which approach fits their specific situation.

Discussion Questions for Families

For Teens:

1. Is there a friendship in your life right now that you know is pulling you away from Allah? What’s stopping you from creating distance?
2. If you walked away from this friendship, what would you actually lose? And what might you gain?
3. Where could you find Muslim peers who share your values?

For Parents:

1. Do you know your teen’s friends? Have you met them?
2. Have you noticed any of the warning signs listed above? What’s your next step?
3. Are you helping your teen build Muslim friendships, or just criticizing their current ones?

For Discussion Together:

1. The Companions of the Cave walked away from everything to protect their faith. What would that kind of courage look like for our family?
2. How can we create opportunities to connect with other Muslim families and teens?
3. What would it look like for our home to be a place where good friendships are built and sustained?

The Challenge

For Parents: This week, make one concrete effort to connect your teen with practicing Muslim peers. Invite a practicing Muslim family over. Take your teen to a youth program. Make the introduction you’ve been meaning to make.

For Teens: Identify one friendship that you know is pulling you away from Allah. You don’t have to end it today. But be honest with yourself about what it’s costing you—and start thinking about what a healthier alternative could look like.

Remember: The Companions of the Cave didn’t just run away from something. They ran toward Allah.

That’s the model.

Continue the Journey

This is Night 9 of Dr. Ali’s 30-part Ramadan series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul.”

Tomorrow, insha Allah: Night 10 – “Crushes, Attraction & Halal Feelings” (the topic nobody talks about, but everyone is thinking about)

For daily extended reflections with journaling prompts, personal stories, and deeper resources, join Dr. Ali’s email community: https://30nightswithquran.beehiiv.com

Related:

What Islam Actually Says About NonMuslim Friends | Night 8 with the Qur’an

30 Nights with the Qur’an: A Ramadan Series for Muslim Teens

The post When to Walk Away from Toxic Friends | Night 9 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

I embraced Islam at the end of August 2000, over twenty-five years ago. Ramadan arrived just three months later, beginning in late November and stretching into late December. It was the year Ramadan coincided with the heart of the American holiday season. Thanksgiving had just passed, and Christmas was around the corner. My mother had decorated the house with a Christmas tree and string lights; familiar carols were playing in grocery stores; families were out shopping for gifts, and it seemed that everyone was anticipating the holidays except me. 

I was a brand-new Muslim.

Although I had been studying Islam quietly for several years before taking my shahada, I had never fasted before. Coming from a Catholic tradition and a Puerto Rican background meant that Lent was the only type of fast I knew. For us, it meant not eating meat on Fridays and giving up vices for forty days. The Ramadan fast was something completely different. I understood the basic rulings like no food or drink from just before dawn to sunset, but that was the extent of my knowledge. I did not know the finer details of fasting or its legal rulings. I did not know what would invalidate the fast, what was disliked, or how to structure my days around it. What I did know was that I would be doing this largely alone. Yet even in that season of uncertainty, there were a few individuals whose quiet acts of kindness would shape my first Ramadan in lasting ways.

At the time, I was living in Augusta, Georgia, and I did not know of a Muslim community nearby. The world was different back then. We had landline cordless telephones mounted to kitchen walls, analog cell phones with limited minutes, and VHS tapes stacked beside television sets. There were a fortunate few like me who had access to a desktop computer, where the internet was accessed through the unmistakable mechanical screech of dial-up. Unlike now, there was no social media, no unlimited texting, and no smartphone alarms or adhan clocks to remind you to wake up for suhoor. 

If a new Muslim had a question, they either found someone to call or they waited. Unless they had an established support system, it was a lonely time to be a convert. My closest Muslim friends lived in Maryland, but since I had moved to Georgia, they did not even know I was considering converting. Much of my journey unfolded internally, between myself and Allah .

The Phone Call that Started it All

I relied heavily on America Online (AOL) chat rooms, searching for Muslim screen names or anyone who might live somewhere near Georgia. I would enter digital spaces filled with strangers, hoping to strike up a conversation or to find someone who would answer a question about Islam. That is how I had met the brother who helped me declare my shahada – a youth coordinator from a mosque in Atlanta. When I first reached out to him in a chatroom, he seemed apprehensive, but when I explained my interest in Islam, he offered to call me. That lone phone call changed the course of my life. After asking me some questions, he helped me recite the declaration of faith over the phone. Then he drove nearly three hours to introduce me to his cousins, who lived near me, bringing a prayer rug, a hijab, and a few introductory books. Little by little, my support system started to take shape.   

But Ramadan was approaching, and not only would it be my first fast, but it would also be the first time I would quietly step back from the holidays my family still cherished. I was still living under my parents’ roof, so I understood this transition would require patience and care. I learned to move thoughtfully, navigating the quiet tension between the faith that I had embraced and the home in which I had been raised. As the reality of the fast dawned on me, I began to realize that the thirst I would experience would extend beyond drink. I would be thirsty for guidance, for companionship, and for a sense of community. 

The Convert who Gave me a Book

As Ramadan drew closer, I started to feel a sense of panic. I knew that fasting was obligatory. I knew that I was expected to abstain from food and drink from dawn until sunset. What I did not know was how I would manage it in a household that was not fasting, or whether I would be able to endure it physically and emotionally. The thought of it intimidated me. I wondered how I was supposed to enter such a significant month of worship without guidance.

Around that time, I connected online with another convert who was living on the military base near us. My father worked on that same base, so in a way our worlds overlapped, even if only slightly. His name was Idris. When I confided in him about my anxiety over my first Ramadan, he listened with understanding that only another convert could fully offer. He told me he had a small book that might help answer some of my questions and brought it to me in person. 

The book was called The Essentials of Ramadan. It was modest in size, but to me it felt comprehensive. It explained the structure of the fast, the suhoor meal before dawn, what would invalidate the fast, and what would not. It clarified matters I had not even thought to ask about, including the small details that can cause uncertainty for someone new. Having that information gave me confidence. It transformed Ramadan from overwhelming to structured and attainable. 

Decades later, I remain genuinely grateful to Idris for that act of kindness. After he gave me the book and we spoke about Ramadan, our paths diverged, and I never heard from him again. Over the years, I have sometimes reflected on how brief yet meaningful that chance encounter was. Allah knows best the wisdom behind such moments, but I do know that his willingness to share a simple resource changed my experience of that first Ramadan in ways he likely never imagined.

Looking back now, I see how small acts of support can leave a lasting imprint. A book. A phone call. A message that says, “Here is what you need to know.” For someone entering Ramadan without family support or community, that guidance can be the difference between fear and confidence. Even if our time is limited, even if our role in someone’s life is brief, we can help steady their steps. More than twenty-five years later, I still remember the brother who handed me a small book and made me feel less alone.

The Supportive Sister

Idris was not the only person who helped me during that first Ramadan. Surprisingly, once the month began, I found the fast manageable. I was attending school and working at the same time, so my days were busy enough to keep my mind occupied. I worked in the customer service department of a local newspaper, so I was constantly speaking with people. The structure of my schedule helped the hours pass quickly, so the hunger and thirst did not overwhelm me. What unsettled me most was something far more trivial. I felt self-conscious about my breath while fasting!

Because I worked closely with customers and colleagues, I worried that fasting made my breath unpleasant. Before Islam, chewing gum throughout the day had been routine for me, and suddenly that small habit was no longer available. I remember wondering whether the people I spoke to could notice, and whether they would judge me. For a new Muslim already navigating an internal transformation, even something as minor as this felt magnified.

During Ramadan, a sister who was related to the youth director who had helped me take my shahada came to visit me at work. She had recently returned from a trip and brought me dates and a few small gifts. More importantly, she came simply to check on me and ask how I was managing my first Ramadan. When I confessed to her that it was not the fast itself that was the difficulty, but the embarrassment about my breath, she responded with gentle reassurance. She shared with me the words of Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, who said: 

“By the One in whose hand is my soul, the odor coming from the mouth of a fasting person is more pleasant to Allah Almighty than the scent of musk. Allah said: He leaves his food, his drink, and his passions for My sake. The fast is for Me and I will reward him for it with a good deed ten times like it.” [Sahih Bukhari 1894]

“For a new Muslim, that kind of understanding carries immense weight. It communicates that someone sees you, understands your sensitivities, and wants you to succeed.”

Hearing that hadith changed my perspective immediately. What I had viewed as a source of shame was, in reality, an act beloved by Allah . I felt a rush of confidence and relief, along with a deeper love and awe for my Creator. She also offered practical advice, reminding me that I could rinse my mouth carefully without swallowing water and brush my teeth during the day as long as I was cautious. That combination of comfort and practical guidance brought me so much ease during a vulnerable moment.

In retrospect, I realize how significant that visit was. The sister addressed my concerns without delivering a lecture or overwhelming me with legal rulings.  She simply took the time to show up, ask how I was doing, and share a hadith that reframed my experience. For a new Muslim, that kind of understanding carries immense weight. It communicates that someone sees you, understands your sensitivities, and wants you to succeed. More than twenty-five years later, I still remember that conversation, especially whenever I come across this hadith:

“Whoever relieves the hardship of a believer in this world, Allah will relieve his hardship on the Day of Resurrection. Whoever helps ease one in difficulty, Allah will make it easy for him in this world and the Hereafter…” [Sahih Muslim 2699]

I pray that Allah rewards every single individual who supported me before and during my first Ramadan, those who answered questions, shared resources, visited me at work, or simply took the time to check in. Their gestures may have seemed small to them, but they carried tremendous weight in my life. With their encouragement, I found the confidence to continue stepping forward.

The Continuous Search for Belonging

Part of that journey included attending taraweeh prayers. I did not attend many during that first Ramadan because of my work and school schedule, but when I did go, the experience was unforgettable. The mosque community at the time was warm and welcoming. I was introduced to the imam, and when I told him I was a convert, he made a point of making me feel comfortable. He offered his contact information and encouraged me to reach out if I needed guidance. 

I also traveled to Maryland to visit my Muslim friends and participated in community gatherings and tarawih there. Moving between communities allowed me to see the broader fabric of the ummah, and it reminded me that even if I lived in isolation, I was part of something much greater. There was a tangible sense of unity in the masjid. I knew that everyone was fasting and striving, and that awareness gave me strength. Even when I returned home to a household not observing Ramadan, I knew that across the city and around the world, others were fasting alongside me.

Experiencing that communal spirit was important, especially as someone who had entered Islam with limited local support. At the same time, I came to understand that not every convert encounters the same welcome. Some enter mosques and feel invisible. Others lack family stability or community connection. For new Muslims, Ramadan can magnify both belonging and isolation. That is why our Islamic centers must be intentional in cultivating spaces of care, guidance, and understanding. A convert navigating their first Ramadan carries questions, vulnerabilities, and often complicated family dynamics. My hope is that in this Ramadan and in many Ramadans to come, new Muslims experience the same welcome and reassurance that carried me through my first fast. 

 

Related:

– [Podcast] Navigating Christmas: Advice to Converts, from Converts | Hazel Gomez & Eman Manigat

– I’ve Converted, And It’s Christmas…

 

The post My First Ramadan As A Convert: The Lengths Small Acts of Kindness Can Go appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

The sounds of Afghan history are being erased to prevent music’s ‘moral corruption’ of the Afghan people. We can help keep Afghanistan’s music alive. Plus, Eliane Radigue’s deep listening, and the brilliance of Sinners’s score

The horrors of the Taliban’s rule in Afghanistan are all-encompassing. New laws that effectively legalise domestic abuse means that every woman in the country now lives with the threat of state-sanctioned violence. In the context of the twin tragedies of the Taliban’s fundamentalist zealotry, and the rest of the world’s silence in the face of their atrocities, the fate of Afghanistan’s cultural life might seem a smaller catastrophe. Yet it’s equivalently devastating.

The recent burning of hundreds of musical instruments and equipment – reported last week on Afghan National Television – is the latest stage of the Taliban morality police’s ongoing mission to destroy all these artefacts. Last week’s pyre included tablas and harmoniums, instruments that are the bedrocks of Afghanistan’s unique tradition of classical music, as well as keyboards and amplifiers.

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Brussels officials take umbrage at factual reporting on how they weaponize anti-Semitism.