Possible 2028 Democratic presidential candidates criticize Islamophobic Republican.

As a person born with a muscular physical disability, who now uses a wheelchair, I naturally hoped that all of our masajid would be accessible. The access to elevators instead of needing to climb a flight of stairs. This need for accessibility grew even more after witnessing my parents age, because it was the norm for my father to carry me up while my mother carried the wheelchair, but now it was increasingly getting difficult for them.

I unexpectedly got married, but out of shyness, I never wanted my husband to carry me publicly. The only way to climb a flight of stairs, in this scenario, was to have at least three men carry me when seated on the wheelchair, while having another person carry my other belongings. I coincidentally have two younger brothers, so they usually assist my husband when carrying me. This made me think of my privilege, which increasingly caused unsettlement over the lack of accessibility within the Masjid.

I had the privilege of not only getting married as a sister with a disability—which is sadly still rare and a topic of taboo—but also had the privilege of having more mahrams around me to help out. There was sometimes the Masjid staff uncle to help out, too, and we would accept his help whenever either of my brothers could not be present. I, however, still had the privilege of my family—especially my father—being relatively known within the Hong Kong Muslim community, which made it easier to ask for help. I recognized that this might not be the case for everyone and, therefore, did not feel comfortable accepting that our masjid was not fully accessible.

The lack of accessibility in my eyes meant that many navigating accessibility barriers are not welcomed to attend communal events. This lack of accommodation occurred even more during the month of Ramadan, because of the increased number of crowds, resulting in increased safety hazards for even trying to be lifted up the stairs.

I felt a tremendous amount of guilt for not being able to solve the accessibility barriers. This guilt increased even more as an author and disability advocate, who was also aware of the scarcity of land in Hong Kong. I understood the complexity of trying to improve accommodations within old buildings. The awareness that there were many who cared—including some in the position of authority—but they just genuinely did not know how to find solutions.

My thoughts on the lack of accessibility, due to stairs, were suddenly challenged during the November 2025 Tai Po fires in Hong Kong that killed 161 people. Residents within the Tai Po building complex were left carrying those with mobility barriers down the stairs as an act of mercy in its most urgent form. Our community was not prepared for such a dire calamity to hit, but as a larger society, we were more unprepared for effective strategies to help those with mobility barriers down the stairs, let alone in a state of emergency.

What do we do when our staircases are suddenly packed with panicked crowds because the building we are in—and surrounding buildings—are engulfed in flames?

How can we function and think in such a state?

Who are amongst those who have a higher risk of not being able to escape?

Do we choose to just save our own lives, or do we also try to save the lives of those with mobility barriers?

There was a sudden realization that stairs are not necessarily barriers at all times. Stairs can be forms of escape and the route to safety, especially when it is more unsafe to use the elevator. We will always need stairs within buildings despite other forms of accessibility. We would always need to be trained to get down the stairs even before a calamity hits.

Our city was in agony and grieving.

People with disabilities—which included me—felt this extra layer of grief because we understood how much our community needed to be prepared not only in a time of calamity but in everyday life.

Our communities have a long way to go.

I could not help but think about Ramadan after the Tai Po fires, because Ramadan is a time when our Masjid is most crowded, and when Muslims are usually in a state of panic for not wanting to miss iftaar and taraweeh prayers. Before, I thought of avoiding the Masjid during Ramadan, just to not get in the way, but now, I think Ramadan is the best time to be present, in order to train our community for emergency preparedness. I think this even more after reflecting on the purpose behind the month of Ramadan as a month of mercy and communal unity.

Here are ways in which Ramadan, as a month of merc,y can prepare us before communal calamity:

1. Acts of Mercy as a Form of Worship

Ramadan is not just a month for fasting because not everyone can fast. Ramadan is a month of mercy for us to remember Allah and also our most vulnerable. Recognize that some may not have food, or that there are community members going through calamity, and needing support. Embodying mercy is encouraged, especially as an act of worship. It should, therefore, come naturally to offer help if noticing that anyone is struggling, including with accessibility.

“Mercy can be shown by prioritizing accessibility and working together to find solutions.” [PC: Clyde He (unsplash)]

The act of offering help is just a basic act of mercy, though. Mercy can be shown by prioritizing accessibility and working together to find solutions. Stairwells without evacuation chairs, masajid without clear exit routes, and community centers without inclusive drills all place vulnerable members at risk. Ramadan, however, offers a unique opportunity to reframe accessibility as a spiritual obligation towards mercy enacted through preparedness.

“And cooperate in righteousness and piety”[Surah Al-Ma’idah: 5;2]

Why wait for an emergency to cooperate together as a community? Ramadan is the best time to learn what cooperation is, what it looks like in action, and acts of righteousness that increase one in piety.

We have lost the essence of Ramadan if we see a mother struggling to carry a stroller but choose to ignore her by rushing for taraweeh. It is a missed opportunity for righteousness and acting consciously. Piety requires us to act consciously, so the conscious effort to act with mercy inadvertently ends up as a form of worship, too.

2. Discipline from Ramadan to Communal Responsibility 

Praying the five daily prayers—as well as taraweeh—and fasting from dawn to dusk trains individuals in patience, discipline, and time awareness. These are qualities that we need in emergency preparedness. Emergency preparedness trains the community in social responsibility and cooperation, but we should not wait for a calamity to occur to develop these skills. Ramadan is there, rather, to help us develop these skills, as it is designed for us to take more social responsibility through donations and awareness of poverty. It is designed for us to cooperate in sighting the moon to decide when Ramadan begins as well as ends. Ramadan additionally facilitates us to come together to arrange and distribute food. Manage crowds gathered in one place so that everyone can pray on time and then leave with safety, too.

The discipline that we are trained to achieve during Ramadan needs to be translated more into communal responsibility in everyday life in order to prepare for emergencies. This can only occur if we know how Ramadan is training us. A lot of us are being trained without being aware of being trained. This is the missing link. Training needs to be highlighted as a form of discipline, so we can realize that it is not only helping us prepare for Ramadan, but also for emergency preparedness as a community.

A way to discipline our community further during Ramadan is to see how crowds within our Masajid can be mobilized for awareness campaigns and evacuation drills. Just as fasting heightens our awareness of hunger, preparedness heightens our awareness of vulnerability. Ramadan is not only about abstaining from food and drink—it is about feeding mercy into action by ensuring no one is left behind.

3. Ramadan Emphasizes that We are All Vulnerable and How Every Life Matters

The food we have is because of Allah . Our ability to eat is because of Allah . It is not for us to decide whose life is more valuable. Ramadan rather makes it clear that all lives are valuable and that we are all equally vulnerable before Him.

People with disabilities, and our elderly, were not the only ones vulnerable within the Tai Po fires. Every human being—and pet—present was vulnerable. The degree of vulnerability one faces may differ, but when calamity hits, this is not usually the focus. The focus usually is saving lives and getting out of a difficult situation.

The mindset that we have towards others during a calamity is a mindset necessary to keep throughout the year. Saving lives or making the lives of those around us better needs to be our general priority, even before calamity hits. Our priority must always be getting anyone out of difficulty—out of empathy—due to considering the life of someone generally valuable.

                 “Whoever saves one life, it is as if he has saved all of humanity” [Surah Al-Ma’idah; 5:32]

This mindset of valuing each life—regardless of background—can be more easily cultivated during Ramadan. This cultivation will prepare us not to think twice about whether or not to save someone during an emergency.

The Masjid that I go to may have stairs, but it also has an emergency door exit, which makes it clear that advocating for emergency preparedness through training the community needs to be a focus. Recently, a group of us has started a branch under our Masjid’s committee, called Rise with Mercy. It is hoped to eventually address the topic of accessibility—including during the month of Ramadan—to train our community towards preparedness in emergencies.

If we truly consider Ramadan a month of mercy, all of us need to commit towards making our Masajid places of safety and preparedness, so that as a community we are unified and trained before any calamity.

 

Related:

– [Podcast] Muslims and Disability: A Way Forward | Sa’diyyah Nesar

– Reflections On Observing Ramadan With A Disability

The post Ramadan, Disability, And Emergency Preparedness: How The Month Of Mercy Can Prepare Us Before Communal Calamity appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Ranked among the many issues for which the winter of 2025-26 might be remembered in the United States – ranging from explosive exposes of abusive tycoons linked to a country whose genocide of Palestine Washington has long supported, to a regime-change raid in Venezuela, to sabre-rattling over Greenland – is the conduct and controversy of its immigration enforcement agency, commonly known as ICE, particularly in Minnesota. And central to the Minnesota operation has been a long-running smear campaign against Somalis by the American right wing.

Somalis as an Easy Target

Although their narratives have been bubbling for several years among the far-right, misinformation and hate-mongering toward Somalis in the United States came to international attention in December 2025 when the immigration enforcement militia descended on Minnesota and promptly began to arrest thousands of people, supposedly on suspicion of illegal immigration. Somalis have in particular been targeted by Donald Trump’s regime, whose officials have recklessly flung around accusations of scams against Somalis at large.

The American far-right has a history of targeting one minority after another – Mexicans, infamously, were an early target of choice during Trump’s first electoral campaign a decade ago – and the needle has swung to Somalis. But their status as a visible and distinctive minority is not the only reason that Somali-Americans have been targeted with special venom. Somalis simultaneously tick several boxes for the far-right and the various networks, influencers, and rabble-rousers who incite them. For one thing, Somalis are overwhelmingly Muslims; for another, they are quite distinctly black Africans. Thirdly, the Minnesotan politician Ilhan Omar, from the liberal opposition, has been a favourite target of the right-wing since she was elected in 2019. Fourthly, Minnesota’s governor, Timothy Walz, was the opposition’s vice-presidential nominee in the last election, and the government has made a point of attacking him: to claim that Minnesota is drowning in Somali fraud implicates Walz as well.

“Minnesotan politician Ilhan Omar, from the liberal opposition, has been a favourite target of the right-wing since she was elected in 2019.”

The Somalia War and the United States

Beyond internecine American politics, however, there are also broader geopolitical and institutional issues. Somalia carries popular connotations of state failure and militia anarchy owing to the civil war of the 1990s. More recently, the United States has been heavily involved in Somalia’s war, mainly but not exclusively through regular airstrikes that peaked under Trump’s first tenure. The American role in this war is rarely mentioned or debated at home, and this makes it easy for the far-right to target Somali diasporas as opportunistic “aliens”.

Somalia was famously labelled the world’s first “failed state” in the 1990s, after a longstanding military dictatorship armed to the teeth by Washington was ousted. Supposedly in order to relieve a famine – which, in fact, had largely passed by the time they deployed – American soldiers were sent at the helm of a United Nations mission to Somalia, where they proved entirely incapable of appreciating, let alone navigating, the war’s fractious politics, which they only exacerbated with their imperious and frequently gung-ho attitude.

The United Nations secretary-general Boutros Boutros-Ghali – a pro-American former foreign minister of Egypt – was unsatisfied with famine relief and intended to make the mission an example of United Nations jurisdiction backed up by American power. In fact, the leaders of the original famine relief mission, Algerian diplomat Mohamed Sahnoun and Pakistani commander Imtiaz Shaheen, resigned in disgust, Shaheen describing the attitude toward Somalia as that of an opportunistic scientist trying to test a vaccine on an animal. Boutros-Ghali’s dismissive arrogance toward the region, especially toward Somalia’s most powerful militia commander, Farah Aidid, was shared by the American admiral in charge of the mission, Jonathan Howe.

Pithily nicknamed “Animal Howe” rather than “Admiral Howe” by Somali detractors, Howe’s incompetence only exacerbated Somali polarization, while both American and other United Nations soldiers were frequently guilty of abuses and gratuitous brutality, with the Habirgidir clan in Mogadishu a particular target. Though by the conservative guess of its own military, American bombardment killed some three thousand Somalis over the course of the year, the abiding memory of the campaign was the killing of eighteen American soldiers, several of whose corpses were dragged through the streets, by Somali militants in the October 1993 Battle of Mogadishu. With no attention to the wider context or the much greater human cost borne by the Somalis, Somalia was myopically recalled in the United States as a case of barbaric ingratitude for a relief mission.

However, the 1993 campaign was only the first chapter in a long American military involvement in Somalia. During the 2000s, the United States funded a number of predatory militias to hunt down Islamists as part of its “war on terror”, and in 2006, this backfired when the Islamists captured Mogadishu. Thereafter, the United States not only ousted the Islamists with a military invasion, largely conducted through airstrikes and commandos, but did so in league with Somalia’s “Auld Enemy” Ethiopia – an aspiring regional hegemon whose rivalry with Somalia is akin to that between India and Pakistan, between China and Taiwan, or between the two Koreas.

During the late 2000s, many Somalis from the diaspora fought in the subsequent insurgency against the invasion. The most prominent insurgent faction, Shabaab, actively urged foreign and diaspora Muslims to join its campaign: in turn, American “counterterrorism” agencies increasingly focused on Somali-Americans during this period. The United States is therefore closely intertwined with the Somali war: American airpower and diplomacy have been key ingredients in a twenty-year occupation, while Shabaab appeals have prompted increased institutional scrutiny on Somali-Americans long before Trump came to power.

None of this history is countenanced, let alone appreciated, by America’s far-right: instead, Somalis, like other minorities, are treated in racist logic as “Third Worlders” genetically predisposed to make a mess of whatever country they visit. This has been amplified by the attempts of pro-Israel influencers, who have whipped up smear campaigns against many Muslim populations in North America and the United States: in the United States, Somalis have become a favoured target for far-right networks both linked to Israel and not, including those to which Trump is keenest to pander.

Theatrics and Diversions in Minnesota’s Winter of Discontent

Trump, and the American right wing at large, have long set deportations of alleged “illegals” as an unabashed aim. Mass deportations of illegal immigrants are hardly a novelty in American politics; Trump’s gleefully menacing “Border Czar” Tom Homan cut his teeth under the Democratic regime of Barack Obama. What is newer is the blatant politicization, undisguised ethnic profiling, and unrestrained glee, often crossing the line into sadism, that is involved in crackdowns. Over seventy thousand people across the United States have been arrested, frequently in galling conditions, on evidence that is usually thin where it exists at all: over four thousand of these have fallen prey to the grandly announced Minnesota crackdown, where masked “ICE” agents were joined by border patrollers with a similarly cavalier attitude toward such inconveniences as trigger discipline or proof of guilt.

This attitude was on show when masked agents shot dead, on camera, two civilians without provocation and were blamed by officials as senior as Trump’s blustery deputy James Vance for their own murders. It was also on display when Somali-American driver Ahmed bin-Hassan was accosted in his car at work by over a dozen agents who demanded his documentation. With a cool and cheeky, almost mocking humour, remarkable given that a civilian had already recently been killed by federal agents, bin-Hassan challenged the agents.

“‘Can I see your identity?’” he asked, echoing an agent’s question. “Why the hell would I show random people my ID? You want to steal my identity? Where’s your ID? Let me check if you’re a US citizen, how about that? Hey, you guys better move on, man.” Noticing their Border Patrol insignia, he added, “Dude, listen. I’m here working, you’re working too, right? So go, it says ‘U.S. Border Patrol’, this is not the border. Go to the Canada border or the Mexico border. I’m working, dude.”

Bewildered by this uncommon commonsense defiance, the agents pointed out his Somali accent, as if different accents in a multiethnic country were an indication of guilt. “Oh, so you going by accents now? Is that what it is? Is that an accent? Have you heard the Israeli accent? Have you heard the European accent? It’s garbage.”

As the faltering agents continued to hover, bin-Hassan held firm. “I’m not gonna show you, I don’t have to show you anything. If a police officer comes here, I’ll comply with it, but you, as Border Patrol, I don’t even know if you’re a real police officer. Where’s your ID? Where’s your ID?” Referring to the nameless labels that the officers wore, he added, “And I’m not gonna go by C20. That’s a, that’s a periodic chemical, that’s a periodic element. C20? What are you, Cobalt 20?”

Border police commander Greg Bovino

Matters reached such a stage that the bewildered agents were forced to call in a man without a mask, their commander Gregory Bovino – who, with his longcoat and crewcut, has swaggered at the centre of the crackdown controversy- was called in, but the Somali-American driver held his ground.

Bovino’s attempts at intimidation have often backfired, but his officers have presented a real threat: he has been known to protect and encourage even officers with blood on their hands. His theatrics eventually earned such ire that he was sidelined in favour of Homan himself.

But none of this suggests respite for Minnesota or for Somali-Americans. Under pressure for links with notorious pedophile and child-trafficker Jeffrey Epstein, a key node in pro-Israel and anti-Muslim networks, and his regime’s refusal to release Epstein’s files without redaction, Trump has continued to lash out at both Somalia and Somali-Americans, and reached for a favourite target in Omar. The Somali government, with the exception of outspoken defence minister Ahmed Fiqi, has been subdued; Omar, though, finally snapped back, “The leader of the Pedophile Protection Party is trying to deflect attention from his name being all over the Epstein files.”

The deeper Trump sinks in the mire, the more he can be expected to attack Somalis as red meat for his supporters. Even more, however, there is no indication that Somali Americans will back down.

 

Related:

– Op-Ed: Bitterness Prolonged – A Short History Of The Somaliland Dispute

– Op-Ed: Understanding The Somaliland Recognition Decision – A Counterargument To The Prevailing Muslim Consensus

 

The post Somalis In Firing Line Of American Crackdown appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Bowing to pressure from an Israel lobby group reflects moral cowardice.

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

The Question Every Parent is Asking

Insha Allah, you’ve now watched (or hopefully your teen has now watched) seven nights of content about identity and belonging.

But here’s what you really want to know: Is anything actually changing?

Not “Did they watch the videos?” but “Are they different?”

Let’s be honest about what growth looks like—and what it doesn’t.

What Growth Actually Looks Like (It’s Smaller Than You Think)

Signs your teen is processing this material:

1. They’re asking uncomfortable questions

• “Do you think I should use my full name at school?”
• “Why did you name me [their name]?
• “Have you ever felt like an imposter?”

Growth ≠ having all the answers. Growth = being willing to ask hard questions.

2. They mention the series unprompted

• To a friend
• In passing at dinner
• When something reminds them of an episode

If they’re thinking about it outside of watch time, it’s sinking in.

3. Small behavioral changes

• They correct someone on their name pronunciation
• They pray more openly (even just one more prayer)
• They push back on a friend’s pressure (even once)
• They ask to talk about a parent conflict differently

Don’t look for dramatic transformation. Look for micro-shifts.

4. They’re journaling or reflecting Even if you don’t see it, they might be processing privately. Respect that.
5. They’re still watching Consistency = engagement. If they’re showing up each night, something is resonating.

What’s NOT a Sign of Growth (Stop Expecting These)

1. Perfect adherence to every teaching They’re not going to implement everything from all seven nights. That’s not realistic.
2. Sudden elimination of all struggles Identity crises don’t resolve in one week. Comparison doesn’t disappear overnight.
3. Constant enthusiasm about the series Teens don’t gush about personal growth. They process quietly.
4. No more parent conflicts Week 1 gave them a framework for respectful disagreement. It didn’t eliminate disagreement.
5. Immediate confidence Imposter syndrome doesn’t vanish because they watched one video. But they now have language for what they’re feeling.

Week 1 Recap: What We Covered

Night 1: Who Am I Really? (Surat Al-‘Asr)

• Identity isn’t found in a moment—it’s built through consistent choices
• Four components: Belief based on knowledge, righteous action, encouraging truth, patience

Night 2: Imposter Syndrome (Prophet Musa ﷺ)

• Even prophets felt unqualified
• Allah chose Musa WITH his weakness, not despite it
• Your inadequacy might be where Allah’s blessing shows up

Night 3: When Your Parents Don’t Understand (Surat Luqman)

• Honor parents AND maintain boundaries
• Disobedience is the last resort after exhausting all respectful options
• The 5-step process before considering disagreement

Night 4: Being Muslim in Non-Muslim Spaces (Prophet Yusuf ﷺ)

• Yusuf stayed true to himself even when completely alone
• The cost of compromise is always higher than the cost of integrity
• Better alone with Allah than surrounded by people pulling you to the Fire

Night 5: The Comparison Trap (Surat al-Hujuraat)

• You’re measuring the wrong things (Allah measures by taqwa)
• You don’t actually know who’s “better”—only Allah does
• Stop comparing, start growing

Night 6: Your Name, Your Story

• Your name is a du’a your parents made over you
• On the Day of Judgment, Allah will call you by your name
• Reclaiming your name = reclaiming your story

One thread through all six: Knowing who you are before Allah.

The Integration Question

Here’s what parents often miss:

These seven nights weren’t random topics. They were building blocks.

You can’t have healthy relationships (Week 2) without knowing who you are (Week 1).

You can’t set boundaries with friends if you’re still performing for everyone.

You can’t navigate attraction if you’re measuring yourself by comparison.

You can’t honor your name if you don’t understand your purpose.

Identity comes first. Everything else is built on that foundation.

So, before you move into Week 2 with your teen, ask:

“Which night from this week hit you hardest? Why?”

Don’t lecture. Just listen. Their answer will tell you where the work is happening.

What to Do If Nothing Seems to Be Changing

First: Check your expectations.

Are you looking for dramatic transformation? That’s not how this works.

Are you expecting them to talk about it constantly? Teens process internally.

Are you waiting for perfection? If so, you’ll be disappointed.

Second: Assess the environment.

Are you watching together? Or just telling them to watch alone?

Are you creating space for conversation? Or interrogating them after each episode?

Are you modeling vulnerability? Or just expecting them to be vulnerable?

If you’re not watching with them, start.

If you’re lecturing instead of discussing, stop.

If you’re treating this like homework instead of shared exploration, shift.

Third: Give it time.

Seven nights is not enough to undo years of identity confusion, comparison, and performance anxiety.

But it IS enough to plant seeds.

Trust the process. Keep showing up. Let Ramadan do its work.

Week 2 Preview: Relationships & Boundaries

Tomorrow, insha Allah, Week 2 begins. And it gets harder.

Because now we’re moving from “Who am I?” to “How do I maintain myself in relationships?”

Here’s what’s coming, with Allah’s Mercy:

Night 8: Friendship with Non-Muslims (Is it allowed? What are the boundaries?)

Night 9: When Friends Pull You Away (The Companions of the Cave + how to know when to walk away)

Night 10: Crushes, Attraction & Halal Feelings (The topic nobody talks about but everyone thinks about)

Night 11: Toxic Relationships & When to Walk Away (Recognizing emotional manipulation and spiritual abuse)

Night 12: Loneliness & Finding Your People (When you feel completely alone)

Night 13: Forgiveness When It’s Really, Really Hard (What to do when “just forgive them” feels impossible)

Night 14: Week 2 Recap

These topics are heavier. More personal. More emotional.

Your teen might:

• Shut down
• Get defensive
• Avoid watching
• Watch alone instead of with you

That’s okay. Keep the invitation open. Don’t force it.

Discussion Questions for Families

For Teens:

1. Which night from Week 1 challenged you most? Why?
2. What’s one small thing you did differently this week because of what you learned?
3. As we move into Week 2 (relationships), what topic are you most nervous about?

For Parents:

1. What did you learn about your teen’s struggles that you didn’t know before?
2. How are you creating space for them to process without pressure?
3. Are you watching WITH them, or just telling them to watch?

For Discussion Together:

1. If we could only remember one lesson from Week 1, what should it be?
2. How can we support each other through the harder topics coming in Week 2?
3. What would it look like to have honest conversations about relationships and boundaries?

The Challenge

Before moving into Week 2, do this:

Teens: Pick ONE night from Week 1 that hit you hardest. Watch it again. Let it sink deeper. Journal or seriously reflect on the reflection question.

Parents: Pick ONE night from Week 1 that surprised you most. Watch it. Ask yourself: “What would my teen want me to understand from this?”

Week 1 was about identity. Week 2 is about protecting that identity in relationships.

You can’t do the second without the first.

Continue the Journey

This is Night 7 of Dr. Ali’s 30-part Ramadan series, “30 Nights with the Quran: Stories for the Seeking Soul.”

Tomorrow, insha Allah: Night 8 – Friendship with Non-Muslims (Navigating relationships across faith lines with wisdom and boundaries)

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

Related:

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

Why Your Teen Wants to Change Their Muslim Name | Night 6 with the Qur’an

The post Week 1 in Review: Is Your Teen Actually Changing? | Night 7 with the Qur’an appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Fasting while working long hours is physically demanding. But gratitude is less abstract when hunger has been felt

• Making sense of it is a column about spirituality and how it can be used to navigate everyday life

Iftar isn’t just eating, it’s synchronisation. Everyone waits. Everyone eats together. It is a rare moment of collective rhythm.

In a world where eating has become solitary and rushed, Ramadan restores something quietly radical: shared time. Iftar is not simply the moment hunger ends but the moment waiting becomes collective. People pause together, watch the same light fade over the horizon, hear the same call to prayer and reach for food at the same time. There is no personalised schedule, no eating on the run. This age-old ritual insists that nourishment is not only physical but spiritual and social, that being fed is being seen.

Continue reading...

Lobbyists ran a hate campaign against a young man who left Gaza for Greece.