A Letter To My Beloved

This is to you my beloved

Mama and Baba

In whose arms there is nothing but solace

A comforting embrace

A love coccoon.
To Mama,

You bore me through hardships

Raised me with love

Hugged me with care

Loved me without despair.

I remember hiding behind you,

Or crying out Mama when I ran

When I was at fault.

Climbing up beds

Only to jump in your arms.

Waiting eargely by the door

Every single day till you came back.
To Baba,

You played with me

Taught me how to walk

How to run and talk

I still remember you entering from work

Sitting in a stool with a Barbie Kitchen Set

Sipping imaginary tea with a cookie.

Or pretending to cough

So, I your Daughter, I meant Doctor

Would check you up and inject you, even if it was just once.
These memories and much more,

Speedboats to Lamu

Picnics in a Lost Paradise

Swimming in Islands

Hiking in forests

Shopping in malls

Tours in Animal parks

Late night movies

Early morning cartoons

Rides in an amusement park

And the best of them all

Praying side by side

Holding your hands doing Tawwaff

Seeing the Holy House with you

And waking up everyday and seeing you.
To Yumma and AbyAby

It is said Children are the crowns of their parents,

Let us be the crowns on your head,

Adorned with pearls of laughter

Emeralds of blessings

Rubies of love

Diamonds of health

Secured with golden care.

To those who love unconditionally,

Mama and Baba,

We love you too.

May Allah incrase in your age and health and wealth,

May He open all doors of happiness and blessings 






When an ear aches

An ENT is consulted

When the eye pains

An optometrist is booked

When the heart suffers

A Cardio Doctor consulted

What of a searing pain

In our Humanity?


What of intense suffering

In our Harmony

Torture and agony?

Why don’t our eyes tear?

Why don’t our hearts bleed?

Why can’t we raise our voices?

Rise against injustice?

Stand up against violence?

Why don’t we feel anymore?

Why oh why?


Where is our humanity?

Or are we waiting in line?

Till agony reaches our doors?

Are we waiting for it to be

Our children being slaughtered?

Our girls being raped?

Our houses being bombed?

Our country being bombed?


Our hospitals being destroyed?

Our babies dying before seeing the world?

Why oh why?

If Syria, Palestine, Burma

Iraq,  Afghanistan, Libya

Somalia, Nigeria, Yemen

Does not move you

Or tug at your heart

If you think the damage and deaths

Are nothing but Collateral damage



No one deserves death,  rape, destruction, pain or suffering. To the person out there saying the civilians deserve to die for the “better good and for the long-term future”,

Who will be left in the “FUTURE” if all civilians are dying now.

What country will be left to rule?

What people to become citizens.








For some,

Home is a sanctuary

A peaceful abode

A lovely place

Kindly, hear me out.

Let me tell you all

Of the prison I call home.

What shall I start with?

The violence?

The murder?

The savagery?


The fact that I’d prefer death to life?

Bombs dropping by the hour?

Playgrounds looking like grave yards

Only with the dead unburied

Shocking statistics

No worries, half are still unaccounted for.

Neighbors trapped in rubble

Hospitals barely standing

Dead streets everywhere

With dead closed ones all around

Everyone lives in fear

Of the horrors yet to be seen.


Shall I tell you more?

Of the hell I call home?

Where I’ve witnessed death and despair

Where I’ve seen cruelty and brutality?

Let me say it now

For I dread tomorrow

I fear I may not be able to say it again

Maybe I shall be a statistic tomorrow

Of the lost never to be found

Or the dead and unaccounted

This is my fate

One I grew to hate

Shall I describe it more?

I do have siblings

Ones I’ve not seen for months

Interrogative questioning, I heard

Before they went missing

I used to have a father,

One killed before my very eyes

A Mama too,

Who took her own life.

She preferred death over rape, you see.

I know where I live.

On Planet Earth, a fact this is

Yet, fellow Earth occupiers never feel

The terrors of what I call home

The lingering smell of death that hangs on my door

The streaks of blood that paints my streets

Fellow humans

This is the prison I call home.



To all those humane,

I humbly beg

Regardless of the religion you profess

Kindly pray for #Aleppo.





















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