I am like many of you, my family fled the war, well my mother with me clenched to her chest; she entrusted my older sister with her younger bro.
Like many of you I ended up in the Western world, forced to face the trials of being an ethnic minority, a muslim and a refugee not to mention the world of Fitna this side of the planet has too offer..
Raised up in a little estate on north london, my mother never allowed us to feel impoverished not for a minute of my childhood. So rich was the love of my mother.
(May Allah reward her plentiful, Ameen)
I was never a fool so I always persued my education, though at times I found it extremely difficult, I knew I owed it too my mother at the least.
Come my teens and suddenly I'm in absolute poverty, well thats what society was telling me anyways.. I had to have the world and everything in it.
My mother became unknown and the streets became my home, why fight to hold onto the pride and honour I inherited when there was soo much more infront of me...
It was then when I contracted this disease.
Started jamming with the youts from my ends, most blakz coz dese times it wernt cool 2 be somali tha fact I look like a nigga made life sooo much easier. Spesh wid tha chicks.
First it was reppin da block, why we didnt kno or care.. if we saw next man in tha hood dey either got chased out or stamped out..
I hit 16 and da roads are gettin colder, mandem gettin stabbed up i cant be movin slippin, started carryin my ting tryna stay guarded, heart was soft dese times but slowly hardenin.
First time i put it in a nigga i felt sick, da niggas giving me ratings so tha timing was right when the zoobie come round that day..
Olders started showin respek dey saw man was on his ting, showed me da reason da block was sacred is cah das how we make cream. Build up a line, bag it up dis is da answer 2 tha English Dream.
Started getting deep in 2 da road life now an so was most my boys, started making my own money so hoyoo ent have no rights over me now.. but stil my conscience wernt far behind so i was convinced i was hustlin 2 get my mum out da hood. She jus didnt understand that it was all for her (Jahil). Suddenly I found myself gettin tired of the slow lane, i mean i was tasting the good life but now i wanted a bigger slice. Started runnin up on shottaz, "WERES DA P'S BLUD" money was always preferred but i could move food in wholesale if i had 2
Life got faster and with that came more risks, it was like one day i jus woke up and made enemies with the entire country, niggaz belling my line tellin me im dead, robbed relatives of frends :S so now even my loyalties were shady..
Wallahi I could not list to you the amount of times I could of lost my life. Lookin back it was like some sort of action movie.
..Yet still I was determained to make it to the top. Need 2 have my face on forbes magazines, knighthood from the queen all the haters wont stop talking about me, mums gna be smiling when she see's what I became. (These thoughts took me away from the fact she couldnt even look me in the face nomore)
Then one day my friends starting disapearing, one by one, even the good ones were dying and the overnight gangsters were getting lokd for a very long time. Life starting feelin surreal.
The disease infiltrated my heart, and my immune system (soul) didn't know where too start.
17 years old, during the 2nd year of my A' levels and i found out about karma tha hard way, got arrested for armed robbery and possesion of a Firearm. Maximum sentence - Life.
Remanded some time so I missd a chunk of my studies, but was eventually given bail to sit my exams, was on electronic tag (curfew) for the next 10 months until my court date.
My bedroom became my prison, staring out of my window, the clouds became my getaway..
I vividly remember the school being notified about my situation as I "posed a security risk", and the head teacher trying to push me to leave, said something I will never forget.
"Stop dreaming and Face reality" Only option I had was to keep dreaming and make reality.
August came, my 18th birthday and also results
Really I did'nt know what to expect at this point just that I should not get my hopes up....I passed?!?! Ya Allah I passed. Bittersweet. At that moment I felt like I had stabbed myself through the heart, I was capable of anything and yet I have wasted it. My trial was merely a month away. How my heart bled.
Have you ever heard the term "Sleepless nights"?, I have, I struggled to comprehend how I let myself get here, the pain I put my mother through, my sister who was enduring her own personnal struggles held onto me as the lifeline it was I who filled her with dreams of a great life to come. I realized at that moment, Noone can hurt you more than yourself.
The month left felt like years, I lost weight, morale, happiness and at the time the will to live.
Court date begun an I found myself being stood up against a jury of 12 white people. My mother crying uncontrollably just at the sight of me on the dock. What have I done?
All my friends were nowhere in sight.. Just the ones that mattered, the ones I neglected.
Have you ever heard the saying, "There are not atheists in Foxholes"? (google it lol)
Now what Im about to tell you may sound difficult to believe but may Allah hold me into account if I am lying, The trial went on and on and on and on.. until it came to be known that a fire at a police station had destroyed valuable evidence in the case and with that there was insufficient evidence to gain a strong case on behalf of the prosecution. I was acquitted.
I was free, I am free.
As a gift to me my mother paid for me to go to Mecca, (May Allah reward her, Ameen) I saw the purpose, the reason to life, the truth and I realized how much I had been neglecting Allah, despite all the blessing he sent me, the signs, the chances time and time again..
I used to be ashamed of my name, thought it sounded to "ethnic" Abdirahman - Servent of the most Merciful.
To say I love my name would be an understatement.
Today Im studying International Business and Globalization at university, trying to repay my mountain of debt to Allah and striving to perfect myself in the deen.
To see my mothers face when she saw me practising, it was exactly how I imagined it would be, I really understand now, why they say money isnt everything..
In the words of a very wise man, "I was paying for a diease, when the cure is free".
Allah loves you, otherwise he would not have made you a Muslim. He sends you sooo many signs, dont neglect brothers and sisters, and even if you do Allah sends more and more till even the hypocrit crumbles with remorse.
Make the intention at the very least to strive to perfect our Deen before its too late insha Allah. Its the key to true happiness trust.
Sisters I know its not easy for you, but you are the Queens of our Ummah, Without you us men would be nothing so please try your best to stay strong.
..And brothers love one another, practise your deen inwardly and outwardly, our sisters must wear Hijab and dress modestly, make it easier on them and dress islamically, grow your beard as sunnah and let them know that they are not alone.
