o my grandma has a farm...

 

 

 

We will not go down

WE WILL NOT GO DOWN (Song for Gaza)
(Composed by Michael Heart)
Copyright 2009


A blinding flash of white light
Lit up the sky over Gaza tonight
People running for cover
Not knowing whether they’re dead or alive

They came with their tanks and their planes
With ravaging fiery flames
And nothing remains
Just a voice rising up in the smoky haze

We will not go down
In the night, without a fight
You can burn up our mosques and our homes and our schools
But our spirit will never die
We will not go down
In Gaza tonight

Women and children alike
Murdered and massacred night after night
While the so-called leaders of countries afar
Debated on who’s wrong or right

But their powerless words were in vain
And the bombs fell down like acid rain
But through the tears and the blood and the pain
You can still hear that voice through the smoky haze

We will not go down
In the night, without a fight
You can burn up our mosques and our homes and our schools
But our spirit will never die
We will not go down
In Gaza tonight

All Music and Content Copyrighted. All rights reserved. © 2009

TGA's version of the Shaolin Temple...

 

Taqwa Gayong Academy (TGA) was founded on three components that were crucial to aid the reformation of our wayward students.

First and foremost is Taqwa which is the Islamic concept of "God-consciousness" or higher consciousness. Having taqwa allows a person to be constantly aware of both God's all-encompassing knowledge and attributes and a reminder of their relationship and responsibility to God as his creation and servant. The scholars explain that the way to taqwa is through obedience of God, avoiding disobedience, and striving to stay away from doubtful matters. It is awareness of God as one moves through life.

When the students arrive at our doorstep, religion wasn't even in their vocabulary. Take Yusuf and Malik,(aged 6 and 8 respectively),for example, two brothers of Sudanese origin who were left to fend for themselves for two weeks in the thick of winter in front of a seven-eleven store. When they came to the school, the only thing Islamic about them were their names...

Then, there were also those who were fostered by Christian families, like Sharon and Amando, aged 5 and 7, who in return for their kindness, brought these unsuspecting foster families to the brink of nervous breakdowns. Sharon's mom and sister died of AIDS when he was 5 and although he wasn't infected at that time, the doctors didn't leave anything to chance and prescribed anything and everything under the sun to ensure that he wasn't infected with the disease. Dad, meanwhile was serving a 15 year sentence for rape...So, when Sharon came to us at 6, he brought with him his case file, which was about 6 inches thick and a whole x-large ziplock bag of pills to be taken everyday...By that time he was also taking Ritalin as he was diagnosed with ADHD. The first thing we did was send the bags of pills home with the foster mom and though it was difficult for him at first, as he had to quit, cold-turkey!! But he nevertheless persevered and was drug-free for the rest of the time he was with us.

Amando, meanwhile had been suspended from kindergarten 6 times!! The first thing we did for these kids was to make them Muslims. At this point their foster parents didn't care if they were Jews or Muslims..."Make them something!!" they pleaded with us. I remember one weekend Sharon's foster mom took him home and a few hours later, we received a frantic phone call from her, begging to send him back. "If you don't allow me to send him back, I'm gonna shoot him, Brother Sulaiman!!" she begged hysterically on the phone...

With cases like this, the first treatment was to inject them with high doses of taqwa. They were taught to purify themselves physically first by ablution and taught to perform solat. Each morning, I'd wake them up through the intercom and we'd perform Solatul-Fajr together and after that sit for an hour reciting the muamalat which is a compilation of Surahs from the Quran, salawat nabi (which was about 17 pages long...), Dua jamilah, Ganzal Arsh and Dua Akasah. After this session, they would recite Muqaddam and Quran, and learn Quranic Vocabulary for Juz Amma. In the evening, after Solatul Isha, we'd read them stories from "Irshad" or Tales of the Prophet. They loved these stories and could be heard re-telling them to newcomers.

Their accomplishment in this particular component was truly amazing. Some of the senior students were not only able to memorize the entire Juz Amma in a matter of three months but the meaning of each word in English as well. For their tests, I would mix words from all the surahs in Juz Amma and they were able to translate them word for word. And if one were to recite a long surah like Surah Balad, for example, another could be heard translating it in English...

By instilling Taqwa in these kids, I, myself found the beauty of Islam as I was able to witness their transformations through my teary eyes. When they first came, all we heard was "f this and f that" and rap songs which were riddled with profanities but three months into their stay, they were singing songs from Raihan and reciting Asma-ul-Husna. Unbelievable!!

The next element in the academy was of course the gayong component which was an extremely grueling and physical form of Silat. This was done after school. Class was over at 3 pm and at for three solid hours they'd be subjected to exercises, drills and warrior arts skills. The students really enjoy these sessions with Aimen and their spirit reverberated through the entire tiny town of Paulsboro. There were times the neighbours would call the cops on us because the students would sometimes train after Fajr (which in New Jersey could be as early as 4am in the morning!!) Amando was the most resilient of them all. He was only 6 at that time and could leap over 9 adults!!

Next came the third component which is academic. Since most of our students were expelled or suspended from public schools, we had to homeschool them. So even if technically they were, for example, supposed to be in 5th grade, we'd probably have to pull them two grades back so they could recover whatever they missed in school. With only the two of us as teachers, Aimen and I would split the kids into two groups and teach them everything ourselves from English to Social Studies. It is also worth noting that when Sharon left our school we pulled him back to third grade but because of his excellent scores, he was able to enter the fifth grade.

So, TGA became like a Shaolin Temple for these kids. They got to live with their teachers, eat with their teachers, pray with their teachers and train with their teachers. Prior to this, most of them would be roaming the streets till 2-3am in the morning and at times cops had to be summoned to round them up. At TGA however, they couldn't even make it past Isha for I remember one night, as soon as we gave salams at the end of the prayer, a few of them didn't even make it pass the first sujud as they were already sound asleep!!

At one point they got rather big-headed. We treated them to the greatest Shaolin show called "The Wheels of Life" that was held in Atlantic City and guess what they said after watching that show, "We can dust them anytime, Sister Liza!!"...

The Apple of my eye...

 

 

In the mid 70's, following the departure of my grandfather, it seemed that life had dealt us a terrible blow. There was hardly any reason to smile or laugh and then, suddenly, all that sadness and sorrow came to a screeching halt on the 12th of April, about 10 days after my grandfather passed away...Dena was born!!! She was my first cousin, my doll, my baby, my everything!

When we first took her home to my aunt's house in Bangsar, we were so excited and thereafter, nothing could stop me from spending my weekends in Bangsar. Even on the weekends that my aunt had to balik kampung to Kuala Pilah, thick-skinned me would be part of the entourage... I remember, we would sit and wait outside the door while she slept, having been kicked out by Tok or Tok Nek. And we'd wait until they dozed off and stealthily creep in to shower the little bundle of joy with gazillion kisses, only to have the upside of our heads smacked with a cloth napkin and thrown out of the room by the uncompromising Tok Nek. Then, there were times when we'd kiss the baby on the lips, only to get our heads smacked yet again, for spreading germs to this precious little wonder. But did we learn our lesson? Oh noo, we couldn't get enough and when the weekend was over and it was time to go back to our house in Kampung Tengku, I'd kissed her until I was sure I could hold her scent for another week!!

In those years, the exam for primary school was held in Std 5. I fared miserably because all I could think of was being with my Dena on the weekends. The pix above shows Dena in Mak Teh's arms on my 11th birthday. She was my pride and my joy, the best birthday present, ever!

When my aunt announced that they were leaving for Kansas for a few years, I was so heart-broken. My brother, Am and I would huddle and plot different ways to make them leave Dena behind. Yeah, there wasn't a doubt in our hearts and minds that we could take care of her and her every need, but just don't take her away from us. When she left, gone were the days when I'd wait outside for hours, at the slightest hint that she might be visiting and of course, gone too were my weekend escapades for there was nothing else to look forward to after that.

On the night of her wedding, I cried myself to sleep in New Jersey and couldn't stand the thought of missing her wedding. And when news came that she was expecting her first baby, I felt really awful as I had wanted so much to be there to welcome my new nephew.

Well, the best consolation is now, I'm back in Malaysia and although this bundle of joy has now turned 34 and is a tad bit heavy to carry in my arms, I'd still shower her with a gazillion kisses because, Dena, you'll never, ever know just how much I love you and how much you mean to me!! You'll always remain the apple of my eye, albeit a plump and juicy one now...May Allah bless you always, and I certainly look forward to spending lots and lots more birthdays with you. Happy Birthday, sayang!! Pix above also shows the rest of cousins and anak menakans that came after you...Happy Birthday from all of us!!

Tribute to Wau on My Birthday...

 

 

"Why were you absent for a week, Nurliza?" that question continues to haunt me until today. "My grandfather was sick, teacher", came the meek reply,as I stood up, horrified that she'd asked me this question in front of the whole class. "How is he now, is he better?" the teacher seemed relentless on embarrassing me, knowing full well that I'm not prepared to answer this question. "Yes, teacher," I nodded. With that, her attention turned to another kid, thank goodness. I don't know why I answered 'Yes' when in fact, my grandfather had actually passed away that week when I was absent from school. I was flabbergasted with myself. Is that considered a lie?

The truth was I didn't want to get into the long and short of it in front of the class. The clarification would undoubtedly leave me in tears as this is the first time in all my 10 years of living, someone I loved and adored had passed away, in front of me, and more so, on my birthday.

Yes, it was 34 years ago that we all sat around my maternal grandfather in his house in Lorong Ayer Puteh, Alor Star. My mother had whispered in my ears earlier that he was leaving us. I nodded, although I didn't really understand what that meant. I was overcome with sadness that was made worse by the overwhelming grief in the entire household. I remember holding his hand and telling him that it was my birthday. He closed his eyes and looked at me. For a moment there I prayed hard that revelation would somehow miraculously relieve him of his pain and things would be as it was before and there would be no reason for anyone to cry...

Alas, things took turn for the worse and he expired soon after. I couldn't believe that he was gone, right before my very eyes. My aunts were inconsolable and were crying hysterically. It all seemed so surreal and I wished that it wasn't true.

School holidays were never complete without a trip to my grandparent's home. We'd be excited because it would mean being with our little uncle, Ajie and most of all, be with Tok and Wau. I don't know how we got to calling him 'Wau' instead of 'Wan' but I remember that he hardly came out of his room although we would frequently be in his room, pestering him to administer 'zambark' on parts of our body bitten by mosquitoes. We'd also badger him for change to run to Mamak Karia's store or Ah Nui's store across the street to buy this and that. That is until Tok tells us to stay out of his room so he could rest.

On that day, 3rd April 1975, the grief that struck the entire household was insurmountable. Everyone was so sad and couldn't stop crying. As for my brother and me, we lost a grandfather we can call our own. The house was never the same again thereafter. Looking back, after Wau passed away, we hardly played on the second floor. One reason was because the house seemed rather gloomy without his presence and another was because of all the ghost stories we've heard from friends in the village that wandering or playing upstairs by ourselves was definitely not an option.

Join me in reciting Surah Yasin and Al Fatiha for my beloved grandfather who is kept alive by fond memories in the deep recesses of my heart.

Syajie my little elf

 

 

 

 

Syajie has been really helpful of late. He helps me with chores around the house like mopping, dusting etc. He's really good at making himself useful. Recently, he has found his niche as a 'pencil sharpener' at the tuition center. He takes his job specs seriously by lining up his 'tools of the trade' ~ sharpeners of different shapes and colours. He stops students from sharpening their pencils dead in their tracks and assumes that it's his job to do so. He's actually good at sharpening pencils...Thank you, Allah, for this little elf...

A Smashing Splashing Sunday

 

 

 

 

Last Sunday, took Syajie out to Central Park near KLCC and he certainly had a blast. He treated himself to my pocketful of change to three Barney Rides, later he patiently waited on a Thomas The Train carousel and was delighted at being treated to two free rides by a kind parent who allowed him to share the ride with her kids. On the way out, we bumped into Mama Dena and Nasar who were on a toy shopping spree and were on their way home.

It started to drizzle but the sun mustered its way out of the clouds just in time to send Syajie to giddying heights on the kiddy swing. After that, he frolicked and explored the playground and had loads of fun on the slides and getting lost in the maze.

On the way home, he found the next best thing to Mama Dena's pool...a kiddies wading pool. Shajie certainly had a whale of a time splashing around. The pool was for kids below 12 and was safe enough to allow him to be on his own.

To top off a perfect Sunday, Daddy treated us to Haagen Dazs' Berry Strawberry and some heavenly chocolaty brownie with sinful scoops of chocolate ice-cream. Yummmmy!! Abang Kamil works there, so I'm quite sure he pulled some strings to make the servings extra special. So we now have a good excuse to visit him and the park again soon. Thaaannnk Yooouuu, Daddy, for a stupendous Sunday!!