As the truth in the case of Shaima Alawadi’s brutal murder is tested in labs, coffee house circles of intellectual, on Facebook and Twitter the human of us have to put our egos aside and recognize that there are five children waking up for Fajr without their mother. There is a family that will have to live with the fact that someone beat this woman to death with a tire iron. I saw a post on Facebook and I didn’t just want to tweet it or share it on my own Facebook. I felt that it needed more attention than that. I decided to post it on my blog.
"Dear World:
...over a week ago, an Iraqi Mother named Shaima Alawadi was found in a coma from being beaten by a tire iron, sustaining injuries from which she would later die from. Her death, originally believed to be a hate crime, is now being speculated by some to be an honor killing.
a) What I KNOW is a mother was murdered, and THAT is why I mourn, not because of the shade of WHO did the murder.
b) Our denouncing the taking of innocent life should not be contingent upon who pulls the trigger & swings the tire iron.
c) In my opinion "Honor Killings" ARE hate crimes.
*Justice for ALL lives stolen. | *HoodiesHijabsAndHalos. ~ Mark Gonzales"
https://www.facebook.com/wagebeauty
Showing posts with label hijabi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hijabi. Show all posts
3-24-12
During pregnancy she nurtures her unborn child with her own blood. She carries her unborn child for more than nine months providing from her own body. During child birth the danger of possible death is over shadowed by the excitement of meeting her unborn child. Once that child is born she again feeds from herself.
The ignorance of this crime is implausible.
To assault a woman is cowardly.
To attack a woman with a weapon is weak.
To beat someone from behind in their own home is terrorism.
To leave a note saying, “Go back to your country you terrorist” is ironic.
A Complicated Relationship with Music
From the time the sweet words of the shahada had escaped my lips I have had a complicated relationship with music. I too was the new Muslimah that handed over my stereo and tossed out my CD’s so that “I didn’t participate in the spreading of its evil.” I later discovered the world of qasidas and nasheeds. It was such a daunting task trying to find qasidas and nasheeds that I could vibe with, especially in the years prior to my limitless access to the internet.
As a person who enjoys writing, music has a history of luring words out of me and rhythm has had the ability to move my pen. I can hear music and emotions that had not yet been given a word had a lyrical composition. Tribe Called Quest came out with Love Movement (1998) I could not fight the desire to pick it up. I began to write again. I wrote for every tear that fell on the face of that young single mother who had no support and was forced to face the reality that her child’s father was sentenced to life without.
Once married with a growing family my music selection had to change. Having my three year old sing I Don’t Want No Scrubs (TLC, 1999) from the top of her lungs was no longer cute. Busy keeping up with the responsibilities of maintaining a family spiritually, emotionally, and financially, music again took a back seat in my life.
One day I was awakened by a fellow hip hop junkie who played for me Immortal Technique. I was enraptured by the arrangement of lyrics, the intense delivery, and production. He was my best kept and favorite secret. Online, I dabbled into music like a married man sneaking a peak at porn sites. I rested in the company of Remarkable Current by day and Poison Pen (Chino XL, 2006) at night.
As a student and traveler on the path towards our Creator, I had arrived to a place within myself that demanded a rectification and purification of my heart and soul. I realized that the path to Allah (AWJ) was a pure one. Great attention had to be given to the influences on my heart. Honestly, some of the music I had dabbled into gave me road rage. I had to consciously remove myself from the music that did not benefit me in my deen or encourage me towards good.
Ramadan 2009 was a very difficult time for me. I dove deep into qasidas, nasheeds, and a lot of dhikr. I did dhikr until I felt high, literally. I needed Allah’s help so passionately that I stopped listening to music period because I feared that if Allah were to answer my request for guidance I would miss the call. One day in 2010 I needed a Mary J. Blige moment. The song, Take Me As I Am (The Break Through, 2005). Again, this single mother of 7 wrote to this song for every tear, to the palpitation of every fear and insecurity, and exhaled a whisper, “Bismillah” as I was inspired to unleash any apprehensions stepping out on my own, again.
My Raichous Sista
From the rough streets of Moorpark, California, spawns a hard hitta on the turn tables, Dj Raichous. Just kidding. Moorpark, more like "Varsity Blue" -where everybody knows your name. Sister Rachelle a beautiful sister who puts it down on the one's and two's. Currently living in West L.A. she spreads her talents through Discouse Co. (http://www.myspace.com/discourseco), the iLLfonix Show, Dojo Sounds, and JazzFatNasty.
She came to Islam after meeting DJ Kidragon. She says that she has met many DJ's and artist but Kidragon wore the deen in his character, Mashallah. She, like many artist, sees her music as an opportunity to introduce Islam. You can imagine the number of hijabi's on this circuit are minimal. Her very presence becomes dawah. DJ Raichous says,"If you represent well in one aspect, Insha'Allah everything else you stand for becomes well represented also."
DJ Raichous becomes Saleeha with a paint brush. Her paintings are available online: www.myspace.com/islamicpaintingsbysaleeha
If you would like to see more about DJ Raichous, you can check her out in the film "Deen Tight"- deentight.com
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