Anger and Peace watch from a distance

On one end of the bridge overlooking nature’s beauty stood Anger. He engulfed the magnificent sight and felt a burning desire to destroy it. The clouds wafted against the tranquil light-blue sky and every so often would cry tears of happiness on the life below. Anger stared directly at the opposite end of the bridge watching in awe as Peace smiled at the trees soaking in the rain. They laughed, so joyous to receive a miraculous blessing, to be able to live, grow and provide for the existence around them.  When the rain stopped the river continued on its journey at a steady pace, brushing gently against the fishes, holding onto a natural current. Pink petals from the cherry blossom tree drifted along with the wind, some landing on the river. Unknowingly a fish had one on its head like a small hat.

Peace is a beauty which is anything you imagine it to be.  In this story Peace is a dwelling where only the pious would walk. It’s a garden only you can create and the more peaceful it can be the more serene the garden is. But Peace won’t allow you in if you don’t walk to Peace. For now Peace is standing on the opposite end of the bridge overlooking Anger’s destruction.  Peace flinches at the smoky dark clouds of dirty maroon and grey with spits of fire destroying the land. The sky is wailing and crying out sending tornadoes through the land, and the land. The land is a waste filled with the stench of rot, damp and putrid sweat. Dark figures flit across and small childish cackles echo around. It’s hard to make out what the figures are even through Peace’s wide eyes.  Large boulders it seems to be. Large boulders which take the place of a heart with no faith.  No, they are small mountains quivering and trembling. Breaking off into pieces falling into the bottomless pit of molten lava by the bridge under Anger. Molten lava where no being could possibly remain alive.

I stand in the middle of the bridge in the morning as I awaken. I wonder where my footsteps will take me today. I look to my right and of course Peace smiles the joy of faith. I look to my left and of course Anger smirks the lust of sin.  I look to the maroon- grey clouds overlooking Anger and begin to smile. For even through the dark smoke a dimly light glimmers. I think it’s a small star coughing and spluttering hanging on for life. It dawns on me that even amidst the horror Anger can be overcome.

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Keeping the kids in order

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged but I feel like this is necessary for me and if it is of any benefit to you then you may use it. I need a place to put my work and this seems the best place for me right now.

My classroom is quite restricted as there’s many other small classrooms taking place. It’s more like a tutorial group if anything but discipline is still necessary.

1) Make sure lessons are well prepared. The content has been well thought about and it will be interesting otherwise children would easily get bored. Make sure theory is involved but also have games and learning activities not just worksheets and questions.


2) Have a set of classroom rules which is fundamental. The students should keep quite when the teacher is talking and rather than talk down to the student who decided to talk, wait for him to/her to finish before you continue. When they have finished do it make it known that it is not acceptable. For example you may choose to say, ‘thank you for making me wait as I am trying to teach my lesson. Please do not disrespect me by talking whilst I am talking.’ or ‘if you feel the need to talk over me whilst I am teaching maybe it’s best we have a talk with your parents to get to the route of the issue?’

-No talking or eating in class

– Put your hand up to speak

– No hoods or coats in class

– Bring all your necessary material (paper, pen, ruler, pencil etc etc)

From my experience sending a child doesn’t really solve anything. I think I will keep a register of the children and if they talk or do anything silly three times then they will have a discussion with me once the lesson is over. They will be issued with a warning. If the child is misbehaving again then a set of targets will be set in place as to what they think they should do to improve themselves. In a sense it is like a subject report. Over the next month every Sunday they will be monitored as to how well they are doing. We will have another discussion over their progress. If it becomes too bad then the headteacher, myself and the student will have another discussion. Possible targets will be put in place. They will be watched over a month again if it still continues the parent will be brought in to discuss the behaviour. The evidence of the child will be shown to the parent. As the parents are paying for the tuition. Hopefully it does not have to come to a dismissal.


– Warning

– Report

– Talk with headmaster, student and I

– Parents

– With students that are eluding difficult behaviour it is necessary to get to the root cause and decide what needs to be done about it.

– Have a reward system in place with an aim of what they may need to achieve such as 20 points and they can have a gift of their choice.

5) Finding a way to reach out to the parents is important so having small end of term parties with the opportunity to speak to parents is important.

6) It is important to remember that all children are different so what works for one may not work for all. It is important to take in their learning abilities and try to present a balanced lesson. Also with disruptive students it is important to have them realise their mistakes on their own.


Feel free to comment if you feel something may not work and what else you think could work.

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You should try it see where one word takes you on to.

Life is a gift.
A gift is precious.
Precious is a baby.
A baby is innocent.
Innocent is pure.
Pure is…pure is…pure is…a clean heart.
A heart is a vessel.
Vessel is a vase.
Vase hold flowers.
Flowers breathe oxygen.
Oxygen is life.
Life is you.
You are time.
Time is moving.
Movement use feet.
Feet hold balance.
Balance is a scale.
A scale is for food.
Food is necessity.
Necessity is basic.
Basic is contentment.
Contentment is freedom.
Freedom is prostration.
Prostration is humility.
Humility is in salat.
Salat is a pillar.
Pillar is a foundation.
Foundation is a beginning.
Beginnings are common.
Common is poor.
Poor can be rich.
Rich is not money.
Money is a need.
A need is a tool.
A tool is sustenance.
Sustenance is a mercy.
Mercy causes love.
Love deserves gratitude.
Gratitude is given to Allah
Allah is the One.
The One is the Sustainer.

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I tell ye’ a tale of ole’ friends

(not that great as I wrote it in a hurry. Just wanted to have something written down)


In the short years I’ve lived my life I’ve seen one of the most amazing friendships. It starts out back in a tropical country, where the mosquitoes are one of your enemies after your own blood. The little boys and girls climb up the trees like monkeys and steal your fruit if you’re not careful. Dogs are wild beasts not to be around whilst cats are the true owners of the house. One of the most scariest cats I’ve ever seen in my life is this furry black beast with sharp green eyes that runs in to steal your eggs. Not your chickens…your eggs! *shrugs shoulders*

There’s a young boy we’ll call him Ali and there’s another young boy we’ll call him…Hamza. Hamza is around twelve at this time. He’s already had a hard life losing his mother and father, now he has to look after his younger brother. Though he had an older sister soon he would lose her to a horrible illness.  Hamza is a little bit older than Ali, and let’s just say Ali is playing in the village pond, swimming about with the fish, determined not to get out. No one can get him out until Hamza comes out. He tells him off. Go to school he tells him. You need to learn something. Ali looks up at Hamza with the amount of love and respect he has in his eyes and reluctantly swims over to the end of the pond. Not wanting to get out really, but he has too much love and respect for Hamza he wouldn’t want to let him down.

Years go by and they find themselves leaving their village and travelling half way across the world to end up in Birmingham. Here they work in the factories it may be the fifties or the sixties. However, they have their work cut out for them. They don’t realise that being coloured people in a white mans country will be held against them for a while. But you know what? They don’t care…they carry on living their life. To them, they have people to feed back home. A new life they want to make out here and life is too short for them to care. They’re made of strong stuff though. Back in the day when animals were so cheap to buy, they could carry two animals. One on each shoulder. Hamza was known to have grabbed a man by his neck and slammed him through a door. Breaking the door. Don’t worry, the man lived to tell the story. Hamza was a patient and kind man, but if you got on the wrong side of him that was it.

Hmm…let’s move years on now.  It’s the nineties in London. Both Hamza and Ali have settled down, they have their families. Hamza has a boy and a baby girl, whilst Ali has six boys and a girl. Of course Hamza had other children but let’s just say they were taken very young and brought back to Allah. So the family grew up together. Dinners, visits, Eid, Ramadhan get togethers etc etc. Due to family problems these friends would not be able to see each other as much as they wanted. From family there was restriction due to problems from back in their home country. However, that didn’t stop them, there was always the local market place, phone calls and whenever Ali could he would come over to Hamzas house. Let’s just say during this time they had a struggle and a difficult friendship. Yet this didn’t stop them from wanting to stay by one another like blood brothers.

This amazing bond stayed until Hamza becomes very ill in hospital one time. Maybe people knew it was his last moments. Here’s where it hits me how beautiful their love truly was and still is. Hamza calls Ali over to his side, whilst he is in his drowsiness. Ali places his hand on Hamzas cheek. Tears drip down his face as he can’t handle the pain. Hamza whispers something Ali can’t make out. Yet Ali comes closer to Hamza and places his ear by Hamzas mouth. Hamza whispers again.

Yes! Ali says. Of course he’ll come back to see him. He caresses Hamzas head like a mother caresses a childs forehead. The pain must be too much I hold the hand of my best friend who had come to see Hamza for one last time. I look to her and we both have tears in our eyes that drown our vision. We look up and Ali is walking away unable to take it anymore. Whilst Hamza looks back up at the exit whispering loudly friend…friend!

A few days later Hamza passes away and people are gathered around in the waiting room. Ali walks in as he’d come to visit Hamza, he has no idea what’s happening. He takes a seat whilst everyone goes silent. Someone shouts out, he’s never going to call you friend again, they shout. He takes his hat off his head and cries deeply.

Hamza has his funeral and people say he looks so peaceful and beautiful. He is taken and buried in the Garden of Peace, with a beautiful tree where the branches reach over his grave. Ali is happy as he has a feeling Hamza is in a good place. Every so often he comes to see Hamzas children, because they are like his own. He gives them bars of chocolate as if they are still five or six. But they don’t care, to them it’s not just the thought that counts, but the person giving the gift. To them this gift is better than  gold or money because it came from love. Every time they get given a bar of chocolate that same happiness of when they were five years old comes back to them. Friendship won’t come to an end for them.

I hope they find one another in paradise. I hope they’re next door neighbours and now they can relax. After a long hard life they walk together down the paths of paradise and eat the fruits together. I’ve learnt a huge lesson from this or many lessons.

Love between friends can be unconditional. 

You only need that one or a few good friend/s to help you get by.

Through each stage of your life you lose people but the ones that truly matter stay with you.

The love you have for a friend carries on when they have children and suddenly you love them as your own.

Lastly, this was an extra-ordinary friendship. Sometimes I think Allah gave them one another so together they could face the worlds hardships. They did have a hard life Ali to this day still does but I can see it now. They’ll find one another inshaAllah ❤

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Small fish in the sea

We’re all fish in the sea (or so we think),
Many of us in our lives are trying to stand out like the rainbow fish.
We may be selfish and keep all our scales or we may be selfless and give them away.
Some will never make it on their own, or have unique ideas because they’ll just follow the group…or should I say follow the school.
To them it’s a survival mechanism to ward off predators, to us it’s following the crowd, but why?
Be careful, you may get conned at some point. With a dodgy sales and faulty goods. Who would do such a thing?
It was none other than your angler fish bringing you close to him with his light.
Hypnotising you until you just couldn’t say no. One inch closer to him and BAM you’re gone. So Don’t always be taken in by pretty things.
You my friend. You my friend are the smallest fish in the sea. First you were an egg before running away to look for something higher.
It just wasn’t enough to be with the fishes. Suddenly your changing and getting bigger and…croaking? Why are you croaking as you emerge from the waters? Landing on a tadpole, you take your first meal of flies. Seriously what is this? You’ll die if you don’t stay in water. You jump up high for the biggest fly you’ve seen. It’s here you obvserve your green skin and poke the sticky mucus. Hey…you’re not a fish you’re a frog? Ah well…you were never made to fit in, you truly are different.

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Abusive Love

I guess I wanted to try and go somewhere dark and different. It's all purely fictional I just wanted to test my writing skills. So  please don't be horrified if it seems gruesome. It's not that great but my mind needs to start warming up.

I was afraid of never finding love or what I thought was love. So when the moment came I latched on to you. I felt a comfort everytime you held me to you and whenever you shouted I thought it was me. Was it me that was all wrong? Was I the one who was mistaken? I craved your attention and every glance that came my way I engulfed it. I took it all in happy for any breadcrume you would throw. When the fists came pounding down on my face and I would crawl into a ball, the whimpers of fear and the tears gushing down my face I would tell myself it’s alright it’s alright. You love me, of course you love me. You would tell me you love me and I would sometime awaken to see you’d been watching over me in the nightime. I was in love and I felt it I knew it.

One day without a word except goodbye you were gone. It was me wasn’t it for a long time I only thought I was wrong yet you were so perfect.

When I left you I was afraid to see your walking visage turning away.
Goodbye was all it really took to hit me you weren’t coming back.
Like an empty cliche I ran far and wide with tears as a companion.
Far and wide I searched and longed for a new embrace a new strength a new love.
They say love hurts.
They say it really hurts.
They say you can’t mend a broken heart.
You really can’t.
…Can you?
Days turned to weeks turned to months turned to one year.
Life moves on but I never did.
Spending hours lying underneath the blanket reminiscing over what once had been.
Spitting venom to those who came near.
Kicking away the siblings who longly wished to wipe my tears.
A young infant sister holding a tissue up at me staring in admiration at her older sister.
A heavily burdened mother weeping inside longing to hold and embrace me once again.
But no one could have that embrace no one.
It belonged to you, one day you and I would embrace once again.
There was my aunt and uncle knocking at the door.
My childhood best friends and second parents I’d grown up with.
Worrying, waiting in anticipation for me to emerge.
I said leave. Smashing the door against their faces.
Sliding against the wall until meeting the ground and weeping.
Could do nothing but weep.

My heart was broken in two and it kept crying out to heartbreak hotel.

Years down the line I saw you with another woman and baby. You were happy and smiling qualities I could never give you. You kissed the woman on the cheek and she seemed to be kissed by the sun. How pristine she was how perfect she seemed. You saw me and stopped. She looked to me and her eyes widened and she gasped. So you had left me for her? I turned and ran back home.

Did I hear footsteps behind me I never knew. I opened the door to my apartment and banged it shut when a knock was heard from outside.

‘It’s me open up’ you said

No I thought. I took the knife and held it against me. You would only hurt me again. You thud louder. I get it now you never loved me you wanted to hurt me.

I crouch against the wall behind the door. You bang open the door and look at me. Your eyes latch onto mine.

Today is my retribution as I stab the knife into your stomach digging further twisting the knife around. Your eyes open in horror as you fall to the ground clutching the open wound. Black blood from destroyed organs oozes on to the floor.

‘I wanted to say sorry’ you rasp out before slumping onto the ground.

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A letter to my past

Dear Shaf,


I guess I’ve changed in more ways than one. It has been a long journey one filled with ups and downs but that will always be life. Academically you’ve put the hard work in but come to the realisation that Biomedical Science wasn’t your thing. With the hard work and effort maybe you could have pursued Medicine but now the time is too late in terms of family commitment and the near future. In terms of your religion, life in general you once thought you knew everything. For a very long time I have realised you thought you knew everything and was a bit arrogant inside. You wanted to give the answers straight away and shove them down people’s throats. Well, it’s safe to say you’re not like that anymore or try not to be. Ever since you were exposed to the sisterhood in Westminster Isoc you’ve realised how much you have to gain in knowledge and the potentials you can reach. You can become a pious muslimah but will need to work hard at it. One sajdah done with some form of tranquillity will not account for all the prayers for the rest of your life that you will need to complete. Your concentration was never fully on the prayer but ever since you enrolled yourself in humility in prayer you’ve realised the importance of prayer. How beneficial and important it is. Good on you for doing that, you’ve wanted to go down a path of knowledge but it will be a slow path. Let’s face it you’re lazy and too much information can be a burden for you. May Allah help you on the path to acquiring knowledge and becoming a better person. You know why I say this because you have a long journey ahead of you.


Kindest regards,



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