Finding old journal entries is like having a strange meeting with yourself. You are introduced to a version of you so positive that this goal was important, that this problem had to be solved, that this thing had to happen by some time or in some way or with some person or group of people….

SubhānAllah….

And then you read on and you realise that life is not like that. Some prayers got answered, but not quite the way I expected. Some goals just quietly slipped away. There are some things I wanted so badly that I don't want at all. And things I never thought to ask Allah for, became part of the core of my life.

That is humbling, no?

But maybe the more uncomfortable realisation is that…

“Sometimes I am the mess, and sometimes, I am the broom”

Sometimes I am the fixer, the organiser, the builder, the forgiver, and the one trying to make sense of things. And sometimes I am the very thing to be confronted. My habits. My assumptions. My ego. My choices. My insistence that the problem must be somewhere outside of me or even within me.

Old journals leave traces…

Proof that forever wasn't. Proof that I have changed my mind before. Proof that Allah has carried me through things I really could not see beyond at the time. Proof that some of the things or people I thought I needed were not for me. And especially evidence that growth has not always looked like getting more done, being more sure, or more put together.

Sometimes growth has looked like admitting, “Ya Allah! This one is me.”

Time has a way of putting our urgency into context. Maybe the old dreams and goals weren't so silly. They belonged to the version of me who wrote them. She needed somewhere to walk to. She just couldn't have known all the things that the woman reading them now knows. And that thought makes me kinder to the version of me writing these pages, because she doesn’t know the whole story either.

Maybe that’s why old journals are such a treasure. They remind you not to hold today’s urgency too tightly. This version of you doesn’t know the full story…

Somewhere still becoming…

Umm B ❤️

I have sat with this for over a month and I still do not have the words.

Over forty of my closest people kept a secret from me…

For weeks!

They planned. They whispered. They remembered conversations I had forgotten. They asked questions without raising suspicion. They carried pieces of me that I didn't even realise I had left with them. And then they pulled off the most shocking party.

I cried!

Then cried again.

I felt!

Then cried some more.

More than the surprise itself, I saw something else…

I saw community.

You see, I had called them crying on graduation day. I had been studying arabic for almost 18 months in Cairo Alhamdulillah. Tbh, I feel like I came crying to them through the many tests and exams too… 😢

But I digress…

I saw the different individual relationships I have with the women of Women of Tadabbur. I realised that in ordinary conversations, random discussions about colours, dreams, books, hopes, favourite foods, fears and du'as... people are listening. They are paying attention. They are carrying little pieces of your heart without you knowing it. And this was reflected in the gifts I got, the hugs, the love I received. Alhamdulillah!

It made me realise that community is also not built during the big moments. It is built in the ordinary ones. The raw ones…

The messages, the check-ins, the laughter, banter, the shared tears, the divorces, the loss, the miscarriages, the new jobs, new babies, showing up week after week, the quiet imperfect consistency. Small acts of love that eventually become something so weighty that one day you stand in the middle of it and wonder about Allah.

I felt loved.

I felt heard.

I felt understood.

I felt celebrated.

"O Allah, make me better than what they think of me, forgive me for what they do not know about me, and do not hold me accountable for what they say about me."

The thing about committing to service is that you rarely see its impact. Maybe not even in your lifetime. Sometimes you will wonder if anything is changing. Sometimes you will wonder whether anyone notices. Sometimes you will start to think perhaps the seeds have simply disappeared beneath the soil. But we must keep building anyway. We must keep showing up anyway. And we just keep making du'a that every gathering, every lesson, every conversation, every cup of tea, every reminder, every unseen effort is sincerely for Him.

And that He accepts it...

despite its imperfections…

“Our Lord! Accept (this service) from us. Verily! You are the All-Hearer, the All-Knower.” (Al-Baqarah 2:127)

Maybe this is one of Allah's gentlest gifts to those who work quietly. Every now and then, He pulls back the curtain just enough for you to see a glimpse of what HE has been growing all along.

And then my thoughts wandered to Jannah. If this is what community feels like here, among imperfect people, imperfect hearts, imperfect gatherings…

...what will it feel like there?

Imagine sending Jannah puff-puff to your neighbours cos my dream puffpuff is different from hers. Or finally tasting the mangoes your sister spent her whole dunya dreaming about because you didn't think you would like mangoes in Jannah. Laughing over whose garden has the sweetest fragrance. Or whose herbs are now thriving even though they never had a green thumb. Whose mansion the next “Tadabbur and Tea” would hold because their pool is bigger. Visiting one another without time, without grief, without distance, without misunderstandings, without loss.

Only love. Only peace. Only Allah's pleasure. SubhānAllah!

May Allah gather every one of us there, as neighbours in Jannah.

Āmīn.

Jazakumullahu Khair my dear sisters ❤️

May Allah increase you and bless you all. May He allow us to do and love sincerely and entirely for His sake. And where we fall short, may He forgive us and admit us into Jannah without account. Amin!

For everyone else: If you would like to finally join or rejoin us Women of Tadabbur is open for a few more days In Sha'a Allah. Join here.

Join Our Community - WOT Here

Also, if you still have not gotten your copy of quiet work, you can get that here In Sha'a Allah.

Get your copy of quiet work

With love and du'a,

Umm Bilal

My child walks to the table and sees a plate of pancakes…

The night before, I had admitted alot of times that I was tired. Perhaps he had noticed. Perhaps he had quietly adjusted his expectations. So when he saw the effort waiting for him that morning, his face lit up. In an instant, he threw himself into my arms and wrapped me in the warmest hug.

And in that embrace, I felt two things at once:

Gratitude.

…and grief.

Gratitude for the ordinary mercy of being here, to wake up in the same home as my children, to hear their footsteps, to answer their million questions, to receive their hugs.

And grief for those who cannot.

For parents who are counting days and weeks without their children instead of pancakes and hugs.

For children waking up far from the comfort of familiar voices and familiar walls or even, no walls…

For mothers whose arms ache with absence.

For fathers who would give anything to hear, "Daddy, come and see!"

It struck me how easily we overlook the sacredness of ordinary things. Not the grand occasions or the picture-perfect memories.

Just pancakes…

A tired mother showing up. A delighted child. A hug before breakfast.

And somewhere, perhaps at that very moment, another mother is remembering the weight of her child in her arms and wondering when she will feel it again.

Another child is longing for the smell of breakfast in a home they cannot return to.

The world teaches us to treasure milestones, but perhaps love lives mostly in the mundane..

in ordinary Tuesday mornings…

in chipped plates and sticky syrup-filled fingers…

in small efforts that become core memories…

And perhaps that is why children are a blessing and a trust…

because they teach us that love is not measured by extravagance, but by presence, you have to actually be there, to make the pancakes and to receive the hug.

And to remind us to thank Allah for what we so often assume will always be ours.

This morning, a plate of pancakes reminded me that some of the greatest gifts in life are so familiar that we forget they are gifts at all, until we imagine life without them.

SubhānAllah! O Allah forgive our excesses…

And suddenly, even pancakes feel like mercy.

Alhamdulillah for the blessings we hold today.

And may Allah reunite every separated family, comfort every yearning heart, and allow us never to become blind to the miracles hidden inside ordinary moments. Ameen.

Sometimes it takes looking at your children through the eyes of those who have not seen them in a bit for you to see that they have grown. Alhamdulilah. We were privileged to spend eid with family, we have not had that in a bit. And I already chose happiness and presence. Alhamdulillah.

We went to the masjid with my parents. I do not remember when last that has happened . My mum was inspired to take a photo and there it was - 3 generations of women in one frame. I forgot my phone (keyword - presence). We prayed in an old school ground…

Don't you just love open-air Eid salah?

The takbiraat echoes differently when its outside. Nothing else sounds like that. They do not sound rushed. They sound certain. Like the ummah is announcing, again and again, through every generation, Allah is greater than…

the wars, losses, gains, achievements…

The beauty of the community, or should I say brotherhood of Islam comes to life. Everyone is looking pretty - men, women and children. MashaAllah!

One of my life goals right under “memorization of the Qur’an” is to become like ‘shazam’ for the Qur'an. That I have such an intimate relationship with the ayaat that just hearing some words brings a feeling of “I know where Allah said this.” And as the Imam recited first from Surah al-Hujurat and then Surah al-Hashr, I felt like I was on to something. Please keep me in your du'a.

We had our candy bags, and we almost didnt have them. It was not as perfect as I would have liked, infact I almost cancelled but my daughter encouraged us to still pack them and so we did, and as we handed them out after salah, seeing the children and their parents smile as they got them… “the simple joy of eid.” A favour from Allah. Alhamdulilah.

It was wonderful visiting relatives, and catching up. As I walked into one of my aunt's house, my children have never been, I said that I was almost sure we would find a kitten in it. And we walked in and on the couch was a cute kitten and then a few more minutes, and another came out to play with us. She said, she is now called “Umm Hurayrah.” The more things change, they remain the same. SubhānAllah.

And like our children are getting older, so are our parents and aunties and uncles. Seeing them move a little slower, stop to catch their breath, cough, laugh, feel…

Rabbir-hamhuma kama rabbayani sagheera…

Then there is sitting in the emptiness of grief - those who are no longer here, the life you envisioned but you are not living, the plans that didnt work out, a looming divorce, a long-distance family situation, a loved on at Muzdalifa…

…and my dear friend who is sitting with some difficult situation and her eid would be a very unique version. Please keep her in your du'a.

I also found myself missing Cairo. Certain places like people become stitched into our memories. Sometimes it is not just missing the city, it is missing the version of you that lived there.

As the end of the day came, I felt a sadness cos I thought I did not nap but I realized I had a short nap, a nap nonetheless. A lot of adulthood feels like that. Doesn't it?

Alhamdulillah. The eid nap streak is still alive.

This Eid for me was not necessarily the loudest, or the most fancy. It was the kind you remember years later…

… because each Eid really does become its own story. No two eids are the same. SubhānAllah. One will think eid will be mundane or even monotonous. New clothes. Food. Guests. Eidi. Excitement. But as life stretches on, Eid starts carrying echoes. You begin arriving into the day not just as yourself, but as every version of yourself that has experienced Eid before.

And if Eid felt a little tender for you this year, you are not alone.

For the ones missing people…

For the ones carrying invisible exhaustion…

For the mothers trying to create beautiful memories while quietly running on empty…

For the women navigating difficult relationships, loneliness, disappointment, grief, healing, or simply the weight of being the dependable one all the time…

I hope you eat something warm and nice. I hope you wear something that makes you feel good…

And I pray Allah grants you softness. Softness in your heart and in your home, and gentleness from Him. I pray He replaces heaviness with ease, confusion with clarity, and emptiness with closeness to Him.

And I pray the next Eid finds you in a gentler place than the last.

More healed. More rested. More yourself.

May Allah accept from us and you and allow us to witness many more Eids in goodness and good health. Ameen 🤍

Eid Mubarak my love.

SubhānAllāh! That strange dissonance between your internal world and the world outside.

There is a quiet realization that comes at certain moments in life, often surprising, often heavy that your world can feel like it has stopped…while everything around you continues to move.

You pause. But nothing else does.

In the same minute that you are sitting with pain, uncertainty, or recovery, somewhere else…

In that same moment, someone else gives birth, someone losses someone, someone got pregnant and then another got preganant again, another got proposed to, another one just got a life shattering diagnosis, another lost their dream job, another got the job of their dreams, someone is learning how to walk again, someone's child is in the hospital and another one just finished their first umrah, and someone else dies.

It is all unfolding at the same time. Allahu Akbar!

There is a kind of loneliness in realizing that your moment, whether it is pain, healing, waiting, or uncertainty is entirely your own. Not because others don’t care, but because no one else is inside it the way you are.

The world doesn’t stop, but that doesn’t make your moment insignificant. It actually highlights something we forget... that Allah is writing countless stories at once, each one fully seen, fully held, fully accounted for. Nothing is diluted just because it is happening alongside something else.

Your pain doesn’t become smaller because someone else is celebrating. Your pause doesn’t become invalid because someone else is moving forward. Your loss is not an inconvenience because someone else had a baby. Your moment is not competing with theirs. It is all witnessed. SubhānAllāh!

There is an ayah that comes to mind…

{ یَسۡـَٔلُهُۥ مَن فِی ٱلسَّمَـٰوَ ٰ⁠تِ وَٱلۡأَرۡضِۚ كُلَّ یَوۡمٍ هُوَ فِی شَأۡنࣲ }

[Surah Ar-Raḥmān: 29]

He is engaged in the affairs of His creation. Not collectively in a distant way, but individually, infact, specifically.

So while it feels like everything is spinning past you, you are not lost in it. You are it. You are being attended to. Infact, it is still your turn.

…And your Lord, al-Qadīr! ❤️

Eid Mubarak!

How is your heart? Been a minute.

This morning, standing on the Eid ground, I was listening to the khutbah....
And then, quietly, the tears came. There was no single reason. Just a fullness.

Everyone was dressed in their best, children running between rows, hands filled with sweets, laughter rising and falling...

And I stood there, taking it in. I felt something settle deep within my chest.
Gratitude! Alhamdulillah! The kind that almost overwhelms you.
SubhanAllah! We made it. Alhamdulillah. We made it.

I looked at my daughter beside me. I really looked at her. And I must have stared a little too long, because she turned to me with that innocent, slightly puzzled expression as if to say, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

And I didn’t even have words to answer her. Because how do you explain a moment like that? When your heart is holding so much at once, love, awe, fear, hope...
...and a quiet awareness of how fleeting all of this is.

How Allah allows us to witness these moments. To stand, to belong, to celebrate.
To have people to look at, and love. Your heart pauses and recognizes a blessing it almost overlooked. Gratitude! Alhamdulillah.

I lost an aunt a few days ago. We buried her and like with every death comes the reminder. It is all fleeting. It passes soon enough. It wont matter in a bit. May Allah have mercy on the souls who have passed. Amin.

I pray Allah anchors this feeling within us. That this gratitude doesn’t leave as the day fades. That what we carried through out Ramadan is not something we only visit once a year, but something we protect, nurture, and return to. Amin.

My heart goes out to the hearts that felt a little alone today. Maybe there was no loud joy, it was quiet, it ached. Or you know how sometimes you are surrounded by people, and yet, you feel the absence of someone who should have been there...

A space at the table, a voice you still expect to hear, a version of your life that existed,
Maybe this is your first Eid after a loss or after a separation that reshaped everything you knew or maybe you stood on the Eid ground holding an infant, tired, overwhelmed, trying to soothe the loud crying while the takbīrāt filled the air, wondering if anyone could see you beneath it all, or maybe you are far from home, away from the familiarity of your people, your space, your traditions, trying to recreate something that doesn’t quite feel the same yet!

Allah sees you. He sees the effort it took to show up today. The quiet strength it took to get dressed, to step outside, to say “Eid Mubarak” with a heart that is still healing. He sees the tears you held back and the ones you didn’t. And none of it is lost.

Eid is still yours.
Even if it feels different, heavy.

May Allah fill your emptiness with His nearness, and replace your heaviness with sakīnah.

Eid Mubarak my love ❤️


تَقَبَّلَ اللهُ مِنَّا وَمِنكم

SubhānAllah! The Qur’an draws attention to the universe expanding, to human life as it forms in stages, to rain reviving dead land, the water cycle…

These references are precise…

Yet the Qur’an never explains them the way a science curriculum would.

The Qur’an was not revealed to train specialists in science or history. It was revealed to cultivate human beings who truly understand how to live and die for Allah.

Knowing something is not the same as being shaped by it.

The Qur’an consistently pushes the reader beyond awareness and towards transformation.

It does not ask, Do you know this? It asks, What does this mean for the way you see yourself, Allah, and the world?

A person may study every verse related to patience, yet when pressure arrives, respond with anger or despair.

In that case, the information exists, but the guidance has not yet taken root.

The same applies to the stories, parables, incidents and instances mentioned in the Qur’an. These are not preserved merely to be remembered. They are to be understood and even recognized.

Prophet Ibrahim AS’s surrender of what he loved most is not just symbolic or instructional for eid alone, it is instructional for life.

References to creation shouldcultivate reliance on Allah’s power.
Reminders of human origin should guard the heart against arrogance.
Accounts of earlier communities expose recurring moral and communal decay and trajectories.

Each theme reinforces the other.

Prophet Yusuf AS’s years of restraint are not just his trial, it is a grand lesson in so many things including delayed gratification which we need now more than ever.

A verse on generosity is inseparable from verses on trust. Trust cannot be separated from one’s understanding of provision.
One’s understanding of provision reveals what they truly believe about Allah.

You believe in Allah, but do you believe Allah?

When verses about generosity begin to reshape how you think about provision, when trust in Allah becomes connected to your anxiety about money, when stories from the past begin to explain fears you carry today…

…that is when the Qur’an moves from being recited to being lived.

When these links are seen, the Qur’an ceases to be a collection of passages and becomes a foundational framework for life.

Deep it! How lost are we?

The Qur’an is meant to be returned to, not completed.

It's repetition is not redundancy.

A verse encountered early in life informs.
The same verse encountered later, reshapes.
Encountered again in grief or in the thick of responsibility, it sustains.

Hello! Adulting is that you?

The text remains constant, but the reader evolves.

Each return activates a deeper layer of guidance.

{ ذَ ٰ⁠لِكَ ٱلۡكِتَـٰبُ لَا رَیۡبَۛ فِیهِۛ هُدࣰى لِّلۡمُتَّقِینَ }

This is the Book! There is no doubt about it, guidance for those mindful ˹of Allah˺, [Surah Al-Baqarah: 2]

Come and be guided my sister…

When the Qur’an is engaged in this way, it no longer sits outside the believer as a source of information. It functions internally, shaping responses, priorities, and perspectives…

…becoming a partner for life…

It does not just inform you, but it forms you…

That is the Qur’an, A favour from Allah ﷻ…

Not just to be read, memorized or even known, but to be lived.

…not just for information but for transformation.

Would you now be transformed?

Because our theme at Women of Tadabbur this month is “the Quiet work” and at our session last night, we reflected on three ayaats from Juz amma. I shared my post session reflections with them this morning and they asked that I share it with you… SubhānAllāh!

…Keep them in your du'a.

Here goes….

As we speak about the quiet work, I find myself returning to small memories I deliberately hold onto.

The random ₦5,000 credit alert with a narration that simply said, “Just to show Umm Bilal love.”

The unexpected replies to a casual, “Who can volunteer…?” when I genuinely expected silence.

The ₦20,000 a sister sent after we were robbed five years ago. Her message was clear:

“Not for WoT. Not for any course. Just for you.”

The neat bundle of brand-new ₦50 notes another sister gave me, maybe 4 years ago, with a “I know you love new notes.”

The message that read, “I paid double my WoT subscription, let the extra cover someone else.”

My mother telling me, almost in passing, that one of my friends had called just to greet her.

I try to remember all of it. Intentionally. Because I never want to take it for granted.

And then I think, if this is how human beings receive quiet love…

then what of My Lord?

He is Ash-Shakūr.

And then He does not forget!

You shared lunch with a friend in primary school. You can not remember her name. He remembers.

You showed up once when no one else did. You forgot. He recorded it.

You intended good, even when you failed. He still appreciated the intention.

From His Name Ash-Shakūr is the reality that nothing sincere is ever lost.

Every effort is seen.

Every sacrifice is acknowledged. Every quiet deed is valued.

So ask yourself...

gently, honestly?

If your Lord appreciates all of it…

Is He not worth doing things for?!

This is simply your reminder.

A quiet check-in.

What are the small, consistent deeds you are carrying for Allah ﷻ, the ones no one claps for, reposts, or you even dismissed as insignificant?

Keep them. Nurture them. Do not abandon the quiet work.

Because Ash-Shakūr never forgets.

Go ahead and renew intentions. Bismillah.

Eid Mubarak.

Today felt like a lot of things at once. Sweet, messy, slow, grateful, emotional. And honest.

Yesterday my son came to me crying, because his sister asked Allah ﷻ for something she already had. He didn’t think it was fair. I said, It is okay. It is the day of Arafat. Allah wants us to ask.

That moment stayed with me.

Sometimes even as adults, we might feel the same. We compare our du’as to others or try to make sense of what others might be asking Allah ﷻ for. The truth is, the asking Allah ﷻ is the worship not just the needing the thing.

Then my dress. Lol.

The classic last-minute decision. It turned out to be a full “what I ordered vs. what I got” situation. And I just had to laugh. I could have been upset, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy. And the proof of that is that I had three naps today. Technically, it was two naps, one was interrupted with a full blown conversation and I went right back after. Alhamdulillah.

I have been working really hard in the days leading up to Eid, with all of the exams and coaching and running a preschool and today, I let myself rest. I rested. I needed it. Alhamdulillah.

The khutbah was beautiful. Grounding. It was about Ibrahim عليه السلام. A story we have all heard many times, but it never loses its weight. His submission, his trust, his unwavering surrender. Hearing it again always reminds me how much of our own lives circle around that same theme, letting go, surrendering and trusting Allah.

We can talk about Eid in terms of the clothes and food and meat, but there is another side too. The quiet sadness that still lives in some homes. The unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, this year, something will shift.

So if your Eid wasn’t shiny or “perfect,” if you cried a little, if you needed naps, if your outfit didn’t quite land, if your child had a meltdown, if you felt a bit off, it is still Eid. It still counts. Allah still sees you. A special Eid Mubarak to you.

Allah knows and that is enough.

May Allah ﷻ accept every act of worship, every whispered du’a, every moment of patience. May He wrap your tiredness in reward, and multiply your joy. May He give us the ability to keep asking Him, over and over again, with hearts full of hope and sincerity.

Eid Mubarak!

Are you a mum or want to get a gift for a mum - new or seasoned. The parenting bundle is at 60% off for the next 24 hours only. If you already have it, get it for your friend. If you don't have access, get yours now.

Eid Gift: Parenting bundle

It is not easy for us. You know, we Muslims, who are striving for the Dunya and Akhira. We have to have a balance or the consequences aren't great. There is always joy in the thought of Jannah.

Jannah is worth it.

Whether you are having a bad day at work, or a quarrel with your husband or your kids are throwing tantrums or maybe just being teenagers, or your business took a hit, the thought of it all being temporary still gives you solace.

How about Jannah?

Jannah is absolute! It is forever.

Jannah is worth it.

We cannot guarantee it but hope and du'a helps us keep it alive.

Sometimes, the Dunya gets in the way. You bring home some work from the office and in trying to meet you deadline, you sleep late and miss fair. Or you got so swamped at work and came home so tired, you did not open your Qur'an that day. Or you felt so overwhelmed that your Salat was just memorized motions. All these eventually come together to make you feel.....lost. Like you aren't good enough. You start to despair.

Now fill your lungs with air…

Deep breath!

See…

As long as you are still breathing, there is still hope.

How about you make a decision today to do something, today, tomorrow, everyday for the next week, or the next ten days, or a month, a year, five years or even the rest of your life secretly and solely for the sake of Allah.

It doesn't have to be huge. Just something extra you can add to you ibadah, solely for his sake. Maybe give a single date or speak good to someone or say "Subhan Allah!".

It is a seed that you would sow and it would count for you on the day of account because with Allah ﷻ nothing is lost.

May Allah grant us Jannah by His Mercy and without any account. May Allah make it easy for us and reward our good deeds and May He accept all our acts of ibadah. امين.

Eid morning arrives like a burst of light, carrying with it the laughter of children, the scent of brand new freshly ironed clothes, and henna. Homes glow with the cheer of eid, and tables are set with dishes prepared with care. The air hums with the echoes of takbeer, a symbol of celebration, gratitude and remembrance.

And yet, somewhere in the background, there stands you, mama, tired, but smiling. Hands, stained with the henna you so lovingly applied to your children's hands the night before, and same hands now prepare pots of food. Your eyes holding the quiet weight of everything it took to bring this moment to life.

To the mothers who create the joy of Eid but don’t always feel it themselves, this is for you.

To the mothers who stayed awake past midnight, ensuring every detail was perfect—the outfits ironed, the gifts wrapped, the home prepared with decorations, warmth and care.

To the mothers who held back tears while looking at the henna designs on tiny hands, remembering what Eid used to feel like before they became the ones responsible for making it special.

To the mothers who wake their families for Fajr, then rush to make sure everyone is dressed and fed before the Eid prayer, often forgetting to take a moment for themselves.

To the mothers who long for the days when Eid was simply a joy they received, before they were the ones who carried its weight.

You are seen. You are cherished. You are loved.

The beauty of motherhood often lies in the unseen, very silent sacrifices that shape the joy of your family. And though the weight of responsibility may feel heavy, know that the barakah of this work is immeasurable. For every effort, for every moment of exhaustion, for every unspoken dua whispered into the folds of your apron or that wrapper, there is reward with Allah.

So, dear mother, as you stand in the kitcheneashing up after guests or sit watching your children unwrap their gifts, take a deep breath.

Let the joy you’ve created also be yours. Let the warmth of gratitude surround you. And remember, you are a big part of the beauty of Eid itself.

May Allah bless you, reward you, and fill your heart with the same joy you so selflessly give to others. Ameen.

Eid Mubarak Mama!

They say “home is not a place, it is a feeling.”

I beg to differ and I cannot give all the details just yet but I do think home can be a place too.

Eid is a day of joy, of hugs and kisses, exchanged after salah, of tables overflowing with food, of children laughing as they unwrap gifts. It is a day for togetherness, for connection, for hearts to be full. SubhānAllāh.

But for some, Eid arrives with an ache, a quiet reminder of loneliness, absence, distance, of celebrations that feel just beyond reach.

To the one spending Eid alone, this is for you.

And know that you might even be physically around so many people, but you might still feel alone, cos home is a person, home is a feeling and home is a place.

To the one who prayed their Eid salah in solitude, who walked home to a silent house, who set a single plate at the table, know that you are seen.

To the one whose heart longs to be with family and friends but is met with only memories, to the one whose phone remains quiet while others speak of group calls and family dinners, your eid is valid.

To the one who is navigating loss, whose loved one once filled this day with jou, warmth and gifts but are now only present in whispered duas and tearful memories, may your heart find comfort and may Allah ﷻ unite you in His Jannah where there is no loss. Only Bliss.

Loneliness on Eid does not mean you are forgotten.

It does not mean you are any less a part of this ummah.

It does not mean you have a bad life.

Even when you are by yourself, your Lord is with you, closer than your jugular vein, witnessing every emotion, every unspoken longing, every silent prayer. And He is sufficient.

My lovely, He is SUFFICIENT.

So, allow yourself grace. Find beauty in the small joys, a quiet cup of tea, the sun streaming through your window, the whispered takbeer that still fills the air.

Your Eid is not any less meaningful because it looks different.

Your presence in this world is still a blessing. And you are loved. Truly loved.

May Allah fill your heart with peace, grant you ease, and surround you with love, even in the quietest corners. Ameen.

Eid Mubarak!

Some love is loud, spoken in grand gestures. Some love is quiet, felt between moments, or even in the nearness of someone who gives you space.

But all human love is fragile. It fades, it shifts, it depends and it can be lost.

And then there is al-Wadud.

A love that does not shake

A love that has never needed us, yet still chooses to embrace us.

We all long for acceptance.

We all fear being unworthy.

We have all wondered, at some point..

Can I still be loved? Am I still loved?

The answer- Yes!

Not because you are flawless.

Not because you have earned it.

But because He is al-Wadud!

His love is in every breath we take without even trying.

In the unseen ways He shows up for us.

In the doors He opens, and the ones He closes.

In the night we rise in prayer, and even in the nights we don’t.

We forget. He never forgets us.

We turn away.

And still…

He loves.

For the last five years, Alhamdulillah, I have sat with a group of sisters and we would sit down twice a month and reflect on the ayaat of the Qur’an. It has become home and you can join us.

Read more details here…

Women of Tadabbur

He moves time forward, carrying us through the hours, the days, the years.

We stand in worry, anxious for what is ahead, weighed down by what is behind? We plan, we stress, we try to control every detail, as if we have any power.

But Your Lord is the One who manages all things. He holds tomorrow while we are stuck in today. The One who already knows the outcome of every decision.

"So take Him as your Wakeel."

Not just on paper, not just in speech

Hand over what you fear.

Trust Him with what you cannot see. And what can you even see.

The same One who never lets the sun rise too early or set too late is the One who is guiding your life, in perfect measure, in perfect time.

What more could you ask for?

For the last five years, Alhamdulillah, I have sat with a group of sisters and we would sit down twice a month and reflect on the ayaat of the Qur’an. It has become home and you can join us.

Read more details here…

Women of Tadabbur

I had this verses marked from the start of this journey and just had to wait for its time. You may not have noticed but I took one name from each juz. To be honest, I was afraid to clearly state it was per juz cos I had such a schedule and I was so sure I would not be able to do this all through the month. I appreciate all your du’as…

before i digress…

*clears throat*

These are not just words. They are a glimpse of the Majesty of Allah ﷻ, sort of a a doorway to knowing Him.

And then, Name after Name, like waves crashing upon the shore…

Each one revealing His perfection.

al-Malik– You own nothing. The True King, His reign never ends.
al-Quddus – Everything around you is flawed, tainted. He has no flaw or deficiency.
as-Salam – The only true refuge for the restless heart.
al-Mu’min – He grants safety, the only true shelter in a world full of uncertainty.
al-Muhaymin – He watches over everything with perfect knowledge and care.
al-‘Aziz – His might is unmatched, His strength is absolute.
al-Jabbar – He mends the broken, sets things right.
al-Mutakabbir – He is far above any need, His greatness surpasses imagination.

And then..

He wrote my story before I took my first breath.

He is exalted…

The wind , the waves, the birds, the stars, all in glorify Him.

These are His Most Beautiful Names.

Each of His names is pointing to what our hearts are so desperate to find.

To know them is to know Him. And to know Him is …

How could your heart turn anywhere else?

For the last five years I have sat with a group of sisters and we would sit down twice a month and reflect on the ayaat of the Qur’an. It has become home and you can join us.

Read more details here…

Women of Tadabbur

Do you remember?

There was a time when you called upon Him in the dark, you had whispered it not knowing if you would ever see the light at the end of that tunnel.

And now, look at you on the other side of that du’a. Alhamdulillah!

Hard as it might have seemed, that thing did not kill you.

al-Barr is the One who never turns us away. The One who answers in ways we do not always recognize. The One whose kindness always surrounds us.

How many times did we plead for something, only to realize later that He was guiding us to something better?

How many times did we think we were unheard, while He was answering with protection, with wisdom, with love?

To know Al-Barr is to know that every prayer, every tear, every moment of longing, is all seen and ever ignored.

We call upon Him and He answers, not just with what we ask, but with what we truly need.

And even when we sin…

Of His Birr towards His believing slaves is wanting ease for them and not wanting hardship. He accepts the little of their good deeds and rewards them abundantly for it. He pardons many of their sins and does not take them into account for all their mistakes. He recompenses the good deeds with ten of its like and multiplies it for whomsoever He wills and does not recompense the evil deed except with one of its like. He records their desire to perform a good deed as one good deed and does not record their desire to commit a sin as one sin.

If you would like to reflect on least one ayah daily this blessed month, then go ahead and get your copy of Fajr Thoughts. It contains a summary of each juz, an ayah or passage from each juz, some notes from tafasir and then some questions to get you started on your reflections.

Fajr Thoughts

There are moments in life when we feel utterly alone. Sometimes this is even while we are surrounded by people. We feel as if the weight of the world sits heavy on our chest, when the people we trusted fail us, when our strength is stretched so thin it feels like one more breath might break us.

Ya Mawla!

People love you, but they cannot shield you from every pain. They will stand with you, but they cannot walk every step of your path. They will try, but they will fall short and not because it is not love, but because they are human.

But HE does not fall short.

So, know that even in your most fragile moments, you are not alone.

And to be without Him?

SubhanAllah!

It is to be unprotected, vulnerable in ways the soul was never meant to be.

"Nothing is difficult if you seek it through your Lord, nothing is easy if you seek it through yourself." -- Ibn Atallah.

If you would like to reflect on least one ayah daily this blessed month, then go ahead and get your copy of Fajr Thoughts. It contains a summary of each juz, an ayah or passage from each juz, some notes from tafasir and then some questions to get you started on your reflections.

Fajr Thoughts

Human beings long for connection. We want belonging, companionship, for someone to understand us. We hope to find familiarity, recognition, and warmth. And we are bound by limits - our sight, our hearing, our knowledge, our love - are all finite, subject to error, loss, and change.

But He is not like us.

We cannot contain Allah ﷻ in our humanness. While we experience sight and sound, our perception is nothing like as-Sami’ (The All-Hearing) and al-Baseer (The All-Seeing). While we build and create, our efforts are nothing like , al-Fatir (The Originator) who brings forth all existence from nothing.

Our hearing is flawed. We listen, but we misunderstand.

We overhear, but we misinterpret.

We miss details, forget words, and at times, choose not to listen at all.

But As-Sami’ hears perfectly. Every whisper, every silent prayer, every heartbeat. He hears it all without effort, without distortion.

Our sight is limited. We see, but we overlook. We gaze, but we misjudge. We close our eyes, and the world disappears.

But al-Baseer sees every moment, every tear shed in private, every injustice hidden behind camera. His vision is not clouded, it is all encompassing.

There is nothing like Him.

And this truth, should brings us comfort. Because He is unlike us, His mercy is not like our mercy, constrained by emotion. His knowledge is not like our knowledge, prone to doubt. His love is not like our love, imperfect and fleeting.

We break. He does not.
We forget. He never does.
We err. He is perfect.

So we submit, not because we fully comprehend Him, but because we recognize that He alone is worthy.

This is an invitation to trust.

To let go of the burdens we carry, knowing that the One who hears, sees, all things is not limited by our senses.

He is…

…and there is nothing like Him.

If you would like to reflect on least one ayah daily this blessed month, then go ahead and get your copy of Fajr Thoughts. It contains a summary of each juz, an ayah or passage from each juz, some notes from tafasir and then some questions to get you started on your reflections.

Fajr Thoughts

Adulting is a dashboard of responsibilities, decisions, and uncertainties. We plan, strive, and seek control, yet we constantly encounter the limits of us. There are moments when our best efforts seem insufficient, when our hearts are weighed down by anxiety, and when the unknown looms before us.

It is in these moments that we seek al-Wakeel.

Al-Wakeel is the One who is sufficient for all and a guarantor for all.

Tawakkul (reliance on Allah) is the foundation of all pillars of the religion. Just as the head cannot stand without the body, faith and its pillars cannot stand without tawakkul. It is an act of the heart, an essential form of worship that consists of…

• Relying on Allah

• Trusting Him

• Resorting to Him

• Being pleased with what He decrees - You believe in Him but do you believe Him?

We are all under immense pressure, career expectations, family responsibilities, personal struggles, and global uncertainties. The weight of it all can feel overwhelming. But when we consciously remind ourselves that we have al-Wakeel, we find peace in knowing that we are not alone in carrying our burdens.

Like Prophet Musa عليه السلام as he stood at the shore of the Red Sea, with Pharaoh’s army approaching. To any human eye, there was no escape. But Musa عليه السلام has al-Wakeel, al-Haadi…

And just like that, Allah parted the sea.

Now is that your problem bigger than that?

Say to yourself, “I am responsible for my best effort but the ultimate outcome is with Allah ﷻ.”

My Lord is al-Wakeel. I believe in Him, I rely on Him and I believe Him.

So simple but it was the dua of the prophet SAW and our father Ibrahim A.S as well…

حَسْبُنَا اللَّهُ وَنِعْمَ الْوَكِيلُ

Hasbunallahu wa ni’ma al-wakeel.

Whenever the burden feels too heavy, let this du’a be the whisper of your heart. Place your hand on your chest and say it again…

al-Wakeel is always near, always watching, always taking care of you and sufficient for you. Your Lord is al-Wakeel. Rest easy.

If you would like to reflect on least one ayah daily this blessed month, then go ahead and get your copy of Fajr Thoughts. It contains a summary of each juz, an ayah or passage from each juz, some notes from tafasir and then some questions to get you started on your reflections.

Fajr Thoughts

We are always in need and when it comes to His gifts, there are some we seek, and some we never dared to ask for and yet they find us. We see them unfolding in our lives as reminders of his mercy. Every blessing, seen and unseen, is from al-Wahhab, the One who gives freely, endlessly, without measure or limit.

The word that shares the same root as this name does not just mean to give, it is to give boundlessly, with no expectation, no hesitation.

al-Wahhab is the One who gifts without condition, pouring His generosity upon whom He wills

Prophet Sulaiman عليه السلام, blessed with a kingdom unlike any other, understood that true power does not lie in possession but in the One who bestows it.

He dared to ask..

And Al-Wahhab responded, granting him control over the winds, the jinn, and the creatures of the earth. His story reminds us that nothing is too great to ask, and nothing is beyond Allah’s giving.

Praise Him, be grateful to Him and always thank Him.

And now, I dare you to ask…

Your Lord is al-Wahhab.

If you would like to reflect on least one ayah daily this blessed month, then go ahead and get your copy of Fajr Thoughts. It contains a summary of each juz, an ayah or passage from each juz, some notes from tafasir and then some questions to get you started on your reflections.

Fajr Thoughts