‘Over here, I feel like we’re all Muslim.’
Some months ago I met a visitor who said unfortunately back home, there’s are invisible borders that group you. In some circumstance, you’re either a rich Muslim or not-a-rich Muslim. Pakistani Muslim or Somali Muslim or Black Muslim or you’re this and not part of that. In the unfortunate way and not in a way that truly benefits those within a one group or between groups.
I didn’t quite understand what he meant and couldn’t appreciate the issue because frankly it’s something I and perhaps others have never seen let alone tasted. Pretending would further extend the injustice of the matter.
This man was speaking from his heart.
I may have made some progress though yesterday. I saw this young beautiful Somali teacher and senior student, doing the extra prayers at dusk, in a bookshop here in Arab tradition-deep culturally rich-Tareem, Hadhramout, Yemen.
Nobody told him to go to the mosque across the street. He didn’t have to ask for permission. It’s not uncommon. After all, I was the only one who bothered to look twice and take a photo.
To the rest there, he’s just a Muslim doing something beneficial that he needed to do then.