۱ - Prologue
This is me. And my biggest inspiration. He taught me everything I know. He taught me the power of who we are and how create our identities. In his older age, I’ve watched him complete hundreds of umrahs, or pilgrimages and build his dream library of books on Islamic knowledge. He is my embodiment of knowledge. He was a doctor, he’d work shifts all week, across multiple hospitals and then on weekends drive out to the rural communities and serve 30+ hour shifts there too. All while battling cancer.
The first word the angel Jibril ever said to the Prophet PBUH was READ. And so the world was built on stories. And our identities also built on stories. Our image of each other built on stories. All my life I grew up on stories. The most perfect book ever brought down. The Quran. The Word of God. Along with it the stories of the prophets that spanned every generation and every single race and community on this earth. The stories of Khadijah, Maryam, Hajar, Yukabid, Asya and Fatima and so many more of our heroic matriarchs.
And so naturally. I fell in love with stories. All the time I find people asking me who I am? And what do I want to be? At different times in life I’ve held various titles. Child, Brother, Cousin, Son, Student, Pilot, Poet, Journalist, Artist and Storyteller.
These days I go by one title only: Muslim.
See after the genocide that came to light in October. But began its most recent chapter in 1948. The genocide that is interlinked to every other including the Nazi’s, The Slave Trade, The Congolese, The Tigray, The Rohingya, The Bengalis, The Armenians, The Kurds, The Uyghurs and so many others.
I lost taste. I stopped caring. And my dreams stopped forming. Their significance which looked like mountains ahead of me at one time were now flattened into dust. Fragments and particles floating in the air that I tried to grasp on to still. They still held some sort of weight if I could just put them together again, but in all honestly were too dispersed to chase after now.
See as a Muslim, we hold a significant responsibility in the world. We take our Shahada the moment we are born into this realm, or at the time god has ordained us to return to him in this life. It starts with three words.
I, Bear, Witness.
To be a Muslim is to bear witness to the suffering and injustice in this world. To recognize the significance of every lived experience. To recognize humanity, and the value of a single life. Because in Islam to save a life is as if you’ve saved all of humanity itself.
The name I carry. One I gave myself: Qi Yama. Comes from Yawm Al Qiyamah, known as the Day of Reckoning. Or the Day of Judgement. On that day, when humanity will be scattered like moths. We will be called to testify. As will every tree, rock, bird and living or non living being on this planet. We’ll be called to testify against you and your crimes. And against ourselves as well. Our tongues will bear witness to what our hands and feet used to do.
And so this is the beginning of a new chapter of me. Where I take my responsibility as a witness more seriously. As someone here to collect and capture the injustice on this planet. Not to educate anyone or convince you of my, or my people’s humanity. But so my people know we are here.And we are seen. And though we may not be famous here on earth. Our names are known amongst the angels in the heavens. This next chapter is where I carry all those who never got to tell their story,
Because storytelling is a form of justice. Storytelling is a form healing. And by choosing to heal:
We are resisting.
