My Trip to The Gambia – Part One

Assalamu alaikum, OK, guys, here goes… Keep in mind this was written almost seven years ago, and I’ve learned a whole lote sense then OK?

TO GO OR NOT TO GO

In the beginning days of March 1999, I was a junior at Austin Peay State University. Life was rolling along as usual; my days consisting of getting up and going to class, studying, hanging out with friends. You know, the normal college routine. However, little did I know that in a few short days, the direction my life was heading would change dramatically.
It was a chilly day, I think it was the second week in March, when I hurriedly walked to my African-American history class. I was already a few minutes late as it was, seeing as how I just couldn’t pass up lunch! And I just had to catch “The Young and the Restless”, which was also on TV at that time of day.
Therefore, I was late. And, I almost didn’t go to class that day. But I decided to go anyway.
As I was walking down the hall and nearing the classroom, I heard a different voice, other than that of my professor’s. I wondered what had happened to my professor. Where was he? Was this the right room?
As I neared the door, I realized the man whom I did not recognize was talking about Africa, so I deduced that this was the right room, and crept in, not wanting to disturb the class.
As I slid into my chair, I began to listen to what the man was talking about. I was trying to figure out who he was, since I didn’t recognize his voice, and I had never seen him before.
He kept talking about The Gambia. “Hmmm.” I thought to myself. The Gambia, I know what that is. It’s in West Africa.
As the man kept talking, I realized what was happening. He was promoting the study abroad trip to The Gambia, which was offered by the university every summer. It was then that I began to get very interested! “I want to go!” I thought to myself. “But—” I couldn’t possibly go. Here I was, one of the few white people in my class, with a Leader Dog wanting to go to Africa.
I surmised that if I was interested in going, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me, but I wasn’t going to let the whole class know I wanted to go either. But! The man, who indeed was a professor at my school, started going around the room asking people if they wanted to go.
And then, he came to me! And said, “You wanna go?” To me! I couldn’t believe it! I said, “Really! What about the dog?” “The dog will be Ok,” he said. “So give me an application!” I said.
It was then that I got the very distinct feeling that my life was about to take a dramatic turn, one that I had not anticipated.
Now, flash forward to May 26, 1999. It was a warm late spring day. It was the day I was to leave for my trip. All the planning, the shots, the anticipation. It had all come down to this. The day had finally arrived!
I woke up early that day. I still had some last minute things to get packed, though most of the packing had been done the night before. Thus, all that was left to do after the last-minute packing was to shower, dress, eat, and-wait! While waiting for my father to arrive to take me to catch my ride to the airport, I took one last look and walk around my house.
As I walked, I thought about the days ahead and what they would bring. I am excited, but not excited all at the same time. Excited because the day of my big trip has finally arrived, but not excited because, well, because it hasn’t actually hit me yet that I am actually going to The Gambia!
The Gambia! I knew where it was. I knew about the people, culture, religion, tourist spots, all of that. I had done as much reading as I could. Yet, somehow, I still couldn’t quite get a picture of what The Gambia was going to be like. And, to be honest, I didn’t want to either. I wanted to go in to this experience with no expectations, totally open-minded.
“Are you excited?” Some would ask.
“No,” I answered.
“Do you have any expectations of what it is going to be like once you get there?”
No,” I’d say. “I don’t want to be disappointed or taken aback by the differences in The Gambia to what I am used to here. I want to go in totally with an open mind.”
As I am thinking about all of this, my father finally arrives, and we load everything into the car. We drive to my school where we meet the vans that will take me and the others in the group to the airport in Nashville.
Once there, my father helps me get everything out of the car. Most of the other members of the group which is traveling with me have already arrived and are standing around talking. I find my professor, and my father introduces himself to him. Then, I meet Jennifer, who is going to be my roommate during my stay in Africa. After that, my father says goodbye to me, gets in the car, and drives off, on his way back to work. I feel a sense of sadness, just a touch, really. However, my excitement over traveling to The Gambia overshadows that.
Later on, after all of the group has arrived, we load all of our luggage into the vans and depart for the airport. The sun is shining; it is a late spring, 80-degree, Tennessee day. I am nervous about flying. I am wondering how my Leader Dog Abby, who is lying on the floor at my feet is going to handle the long trip. I worry if I have forgotten anything. I listen to my professor, who is the one taking me and all of my group on this trip, discuss something about religion to the driver. While he is still talking, he gets out stuff to eat, and offers me a Twinkie. Although I am too excited to eat, I take it anyway, since I don’t know when I am going to get another chance to eat anything.
We finally arrive at the Nashville airport, we unload the vans, and prepare to get on the first of two planes we have to catch before arriving in New York to catch the Air Afrique flight to Dakar, Senegal.
As the day progresses, I try, and fairly well I might add, not to be too excited. I try to keep an open mind to what I will see when I arrive in Africa. I am keenly aware that what I have seen in America will be markedly different from what I am going to encounter in Africa. I don’t want to go in with any expectations.
The day goes fast, however, and before I can get impatient about anything, I am standing in line waiting to board the Air Afrique flight to Dakar, Senegal. Now, finally, after all the planning, preparation, and waiting, the realization of what I am about to do finally hits me, and hits me hard! Suddenly, I realize I am about to leave the US, about to leave everything I have ever known behind me. And, for a second, I am a little scared. Scared because I am about to get on a plane for a longer period of time than I have ever been on before, and scared because I have no idea what next is going to happen.
Finally, the moment arrives! We start down the gate to board the flight to Dakar! I couldn’t believe it! The moment had finally arrived! I am going to Africa! I am so excited (finally!), that I want to run down the rest of the way to the plane, but, no, I don’t do that! All I say to my friend Jennifer who is walking beside me is, “We’re going to Africa, Jennifer! We’re going to Africa!”
Now, I’m on the plane. They have served dinner. It is pretty good. Smoked fish, couscous, some meat and tomato stuff. Some kind of salad looking stuff. And I don’t remember what else.
The flight wears on. Everyone sleeps. Abby, my loveable Labrador Retriever Leader Dog, lies at my feet, stretched out, sleeping. I imagine she is probably snoring, but the noise of the plane is so loud, I wouldn’t know. But, to my relief, she has handled things pretty well so far. A very good Leader Dog indeed!
It is morning, May 27, 1999. The flight attendants have served breakfast. The plane is preparing to land in Dakar. Africa! We are finally here! Jennifer, who is sitting beside me, and I prepare for the landing and to get off of the plane. We fasten our seatbelts. We wait. Abby, who seems to know the ride is almost over, raises her head, yawns, and stretches. The plane descends and lands. Upon landing, everyone claps! Why do they do that? They never did that in America!
After the plane gets to the gate, everyone starts to get off. Jennifer, Abby, and I are some of the last passengers to disembark. I put my hand on the railing at the door of the plane, and begin descending the steps. I think how different this is from any airport I have ever been in before! Steps going down, directly out into the open air! I feel the breeze and sun on my face! It feels nice, almost heavenly! So this is it! Africa! It was at that point I knew that my life, my thoughts, my feelings, would never be the same. I knew then that the next five weeks spent in The Gambia would totally change my life.
It is early afternoon, Thursday, May 27, 1999. I am riding on the bus, on the way to Banjul, The Gambia. It has been a long day. Mainly because our luggage didn’t make it to Africa with us. Although I am worried about what I am going to feed Abby, since her food was part of my luggage, I am determined to enjoy myself, nonetheless. Besides, I have a feeling that everything is going to be OK anyway. So, I don’t worry about it.
The bus rambles down the road! Every once in a while, we stop and some of the group gets out to look around, to buy something. For the most part, except for when I have to go to the bathroom, I stay on the bus. I feel more comfortable there. I don’t have to move, I can doze.
So, we are heading down the long, rough road. As we get further and further away from Dakar, I notice the road seems to get worse and worse. And there seems to be sand everywhere! I have never seen so much sand anywhere, except for on the beach! It seems strange to me.
We keep going, the day wears on. I feel sad that I cannot see everything! For one of the few times in my life, I wish fervently that I had sight! Ricky, one of the members of the group, offers to sit beside me, and begins to describe everything for me.
He tells me about the one power line running over our heads, parallel to the road. As we go through villages and small towns, he tells me about the people, the telecenters, the houses. He tells me how some of the houses are nothing more than huts, they have no electricity! I think how different these people’s worlds are from the one I have known and have just left behind in America!
As the bus rattles on, Ricky tells me about the women carrying buckets of water. He tells me about the ocean, he can see it on our right, we are going parallel to it. By this, I figure out that we are going south, not north like I had thought we were going.
We stop–again! I am beginning to get impatient. I want to get there! I am tired of riding on the bus. My professor gives me a banana, and some cashews, and some soda pop called Fanta. Fanta is good! I like it. And the banana and cashews, which are fresh, are good as well. I realize I am hungry! So I eat.
I try to listen to my Walkman. But I can’t find anything I want to hear. Just African music, and people talking in a language I can’t understand, but wish I did.
The bus rattles on. The day has turned to early evening, about 5 or 6, maybe, I am not sure. We are getting closer and closer to The Gambia, the road gets increasingly worse. I know they said the roads would be bad, but this, I hadn’t expected. I begin to wonder if the bus is going to make it.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, we get to the border! “Get your passports out,” My professor says, and also, Kevin, another person helping out. I nervously give my passport out, hoping it will not get lost. They collect the passports, we all sit on the bus and wait. Abby is still doing OK. She seems oblivious to the fact that we are on a totally different continent.
We are on the move again, going to the ferry at Barra. We are in the Gambia, that is, after going through another border crossing.
The ferry. The bus drives onto the ferry, everyone closes the windows so we won’t get wet. Some people get out. I once again choose to stay on the bus. I just want to get where we are going.
I am almost asleep, put to sleep by the rocking of the bus by the ocean waves, when everyone gets on the bus, and I am awake again. We start off! Through Banjul, to Bakau, to the Romana Hotel where we will be staying!
Finally! We are here! We all get off of the bus. The hotel staff, I am guessing, is standing outside to greet us. I feel as though I have arrived at a family member’s house that I haven’t seen and am being greeted by them! One lady hugs me. Some men shake my hand! I am just happy we are here!
We get everything off of the bus and head into the dining area, where we are going to eat.
I think to myself, I am here! But I was extremely tired, had a horrible headache, and just wanted to go to bed. But I was happy to be in The Gambia. Happy to have finally made it to “The Smiling Coast of Africa”!

Converts and Other Thoughts.

Assalamu alaikum, well, I’ll start by saying that I know what I want to say, but I’m not sure if it will come out the way I want it to, but I’ll try anyway…

Umm Zaid’s recent post about converts really got me to thinking. I can’t say that I’ve experienced all of the things she talks about in her blog entry which, I think, she has sense taken down, which is why I’ve not linked to it. But I’d say that the thing I’ve experienced most is the feeling of isolation.

I thought, at first, it was because of a general lack of transportation on my part, or becuase I was blind and it was another manifestation of sighted people not knowing how to react to a blind person.

I remember how frustrated I used to feel, living in Northwest Indiana, knowing that there were other Muslims around, knowing that there were a few masjids, especially in Chicago, yet, because of lack of public transportation, or I should say, public transportation going to where I wanted to go, if there was something going on, I couldn’t get there.

I remember one particular Eid, feeling so sad, because here it was Eid, yet I had no way to get to the Eid prayers, and no one to celebrate with.

And what upsets me, is when I bring this up to some Muslims, they will talk of “intention”, like “oh you had the intention to do such-and-such, so that is a good thing”. What? Yeah, I had the intention to go to the Eid prayer, but I couldn’t, and I really wanted to go. So what, if I had the intention! I wanted to celebrate with other Muslims, at least one day out of the year, but no one, I felt, and it seemed, could be bothered to come and pick me up! And I’m sorry, I felt isolated, like I didn’t belong. And this is not what I came to Islam for.

I often got the feeling sometimes that before I came to Islam, I got sold something that wasn’t exactly true. “Oh, Islam solves the problem of racism”, yet some Muslims are racist. “Islam is community, we are all brothers and sisters”, yet, I’ve had particular instances where I almost feel I have to scream, shout, yell, really assert myself, in order to get noticed. And I most certainly didn’t feel as though I was a “brother or sister” to anyone. I’m really sorry for feeling this way, but sadly, I did.

And the thing is, I don’t like to do that, ti have to push myself into people’s lives to get noticed, to get the things I need or want. I feel I tend to be too assertive and too domineering sometimes anyway, especially if I have something that I want to say. Sometimes, I’ll talk over everyone if I have a point I want to make.

Maybe if I went and yelled tasawwuf or sufi or madhhab someone would notice? Oh, but then, I wouldn’t get the reaction I wanted, unless maybe I was at a deen intensive or Zaytuna.

But anyway, all jokes aside, it’s the “isolation” that I’ve felt, even in a city where there were Muslims, that’s bothered me the most as a convert. I just never felt like I fit in. And at the time, I thought it was just me. I thought it was the whole “blindness thing” or the fact that I had a dog, or something like that.

I hadn’t realized that others felt the same sort of isolation. But what’s really bad is when you’re sitting in a crowded masjid on Eid day, and everyone is talking around you, yet you’re sitting there silent, because you came by yourself, or the person you came with is talking to someone else. So you’re sitting there and everyone is chattering away, and you’re just sitting there, and then, you wish you maybe were at home, because it feels worse sitting in a masjid full of people, yet still being ignored, than being by yourself on Eid day.

And then, when I’m going through this, I feel guilty, because well, I wanted to come to the masjid so badly, and yet…. Now I wish I was home again?

So anyway, speaking of isolation, and the Muslim community, there was an event at the masjid. From what I understand, it was a “women’s convention”, where, I think, some of the women converts were going to talk about how they came to Islam, etc., and there was going to be food and a bazaar. And of course, I couldn’t go because, well, I didn’t have a ride. I thought I did, but the transportation fell through, and well, at home I sat.

But maybe it was for the better, because I’ve been having headaches this week, and my brother hasn’t been feeling well (it was him that was sick the other morning, not my sister-in-law), and well, I was just so confused about the event, that I probably would have found some way of embarrasing myself. I mean, when I was first informed about the event, I was told it was like an outreach event, to tell non-Muslims about Islam, etc., and I was asked to come and to invite people.

So, I was going to make fliers, and so I asked one of the other sisters about the details of the event, time and place, location, etc. And in the course of that discussion, I asked if it was going to be women’s only, to which I was told yes. Pheew! Good thing I didn’t invite my dad, or my brother, or any of my male coworkers.

And I just felt stupid, because I didn’t initially know that it was a women’s only event. And oh, no kids allowed either, which meant that my sister-in-law couldn’t come either, unless she left my nephew at home with my brother. And my mom couldn’t come because my dad had hand surgery Thursday, and well, she always comes to see my nephew on Saturdays. And well…

So anyway, I just felt so out-of-the-loop as far as this event goes. And given that I didn’t know the facts from the beginning, I really could have made a fool of myself, assuming my brother, dad, and little nephew agreed to come to the event.

So anyway, my lack of reliable transportation to Clarksville on the weekends, coupled with my lack of knowledge on the kind of event that this was, has, well, contributed to a? You guessed it. A once-again, feeling of being isolated and not in touch with the closest Muslim community to me. And I wanted to go to the event too.

Though, I have to say, I was apprehensive about the “converts talking about how they came to Islam” bit. Because it’s the “let’s put the converts on display” initial reaction that I had. Which, of course, doesn’t necessarily mean that that is what is going to happen. So, I wanted to go, just to be there and actually get a chance to visit with some Muslims. But alas, that just didn’t happen.

So anyway, I saw a comment, I think it was on Umm Zaid’s blog, where someone said that they didn’t feel they belonged anywhere, or at least, that was what I got out of the comment. I mean, I’m American, but I’m Muslim too, and in this day and age, sometimes, at least I feel, it’s like I don’t fit in anywhere.

I’m Muslim, so because of that, I feel somehow separated from my non-Muslim friends and family. I’m American, so I feel detached from the immigrant Muslims I know, especially if their English isn’t very good. And I also have a disability, which further isolates me, I think.

But another thing that gets under my skin is when people will ask me if I know how to pray or make wudu, etc., and this is after I’ve rattled off my conversion story, and they know I’ve been Muslim since 2000. I’d hope that after 5 and a half years of being a Muslim I’d know how to pray and make wudu, at the very least!

I know people mean well, when they ask this, but it does still bother me. Another thing I got once was the “oh how terrible it is to have had sex before you were married”, and this was after I’d innocently, stupidly, explained to a sister how I’d *gasp *, had a boyfriend, and this was like years ago, before I even knew about Islam.

And at the time, I angrily said that this person had no right to illustrate to me what a terrible person I was, because this was before I was Muslim, and that once you are a Muslim, your past sins are forgiven (aren’t they?), and besides, at the time, not that I didn’t know any better, but our culture, today, didn’t frown upon that sort of thing.

So anyway… and of course, when I first became Muslim, I got the whole schpiel on how I should get married so I don’t do something haram, because “you know zina is haram” and all. And I think I was told this before I even knew how to pray.

And I’m sorry to sound so down and all, but you know, it’s really frustrating. Because it seems you can, as Umm Zaid said, never win. No matter how much knowledge you have, or how well you can speak Arabic, or anything, you’re still the “convert”, you’re still the “new Muslim”.

Another thing I’ve noticed is the apparent ignorance of some, that there are sizable populations of Muslims in places like West Africa. I remember one time stating how Senegal and The Gambia had a Muslim population of upwards of 90%, and the person I was talking to acted as if they had no idea that Senegal or The Gambia ever existed.

So sometimes, not only have I gotten the feeling that “converts” aren’t Muslim enough, but other born Muslims aren’t “Muslim enough” either. But that’s just been me, I could be wrong.

It’s like some people feel that the only “true” or “real” Muslims are Arab or South Asian. And again, this is just a “feeling” that I’ve had based on the reactions of some people when I’ve mentioned African Muslims’ contributionts to Islam, just to give one example.

Anyway, I hold fast to Islam, and try not to get too down about what “Muslims” are doing. Because, as maybe some have already said, if it were not for my faith in Allah and Islam, I’d have left Islam a long time ago, due to the actions of some Muslims. OK, so that didn’t make much sense.

I almost feel sometimes, that I get more spiritual benefit just being by myself. Well, except when I have the good fortune to be among caring, Allah-fearing Muslims. Or, Muslims who, I don’t know, you can feel a spiritual light / aura eminating from them. And you * want * to be around them. And they don’t judge you because you follow a madhhab, or are in a tariqa, or maybe don’t hold the same opinion as they do on a particular issue.

And I think you can find this among so-called “Salafi” Muslims as well, so I’m not saying that this feeling can only be found among “traditional” Muslims.

So maybe my “isolation” isn’t such a bad thing, maybe it is a blessing in disguise, because it is keeping me away from all of the “bad things” or spiritually destroying things, that many other converts, and other born Muslims even, have had to face.

Anyway, OK, so I guess I’ll go, and stop ranting for now. Because this sort of ranting makes me feel ungrateful? or guilty somehow, like I’m somehow not recognizing Allah’s blessings or something.

Nightmares!

Assalamu alaikum, you know, I don’t remember the dream, exactly. But I do know that it had something to do with a house fire, my ex-husband, and my old apartment in Indiana, where I lived before coming back to Tennessee.

The only part of the dream I remember is standing outside of my apartment, briefly going back inside for something, and just feeling this overwhelming sense of fear.

I don’t know if I was afraid of my ex-husband, an impending house fire, or an actual house fire, but all I know is that I woke up, and I was scared, but I didn’t know why. I just remember being hot so I threw my blanket off of me, got up, and opened up my windows and went back to bed.

And then I just laid there trying to figure it all out. My dream really didn’t have any sequence of events, just that I was afraid, and it was like the fear I felt during and shortly after the house fire, was combined with the fear I used to feel, if I thought abuse was eminent, and it was just overpowering.

It seems like I’ve had dreams like this before, but I can’t quite remember for sure, and if I did, I’ve most likely blocked it all out. Inshallah, this doesn’t start to become a pattern.

So anyway, I went back to sleep, and now I’m awake again, but tired, and someone in the house is sick, but not sure who it is, because, well, that was the next thing I woke up to, at 4:30 in the morning. Well, it was that, and the combination of my adhan software going off. How nice / interesting.

So needless to say, I didn’t get a lot of sleep, and I wish I could just go back to bed. But it’s Monday, and I gotta work. And it’s days like this, that I wish I could revert back to my pre-employment days. Although don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be working.

Please make dua that I don’t get sick! Especially if it’s anything involving the stomach!

Islam’s Black Salves?

Assalamu alaikum, below is an article that was posted to a list I’m on. I couldn’t find the link to the exact article, so am posting it below.

At first, I’d thought it was a reposting of an article which was posted last summer, which started a huge fight between myself and the poster, because I had forwarded the article to a couple sisters I knew, and sent their responses back to the list where the article was originally posted.

Well, that didn’t sit well with the original poster, who accused me of “being an Arab-lover”, because I wouldn’t go along with the gist of the article and state how evil “Arabs” and by extention “Islam” was, in enslaving African people.

I know I have the emails related to this in my Google archives, but I’d care not to revisit this issue. I don’t know why Muslims or Arabs, or any other group owned slaves. Probably, it was economically expedient at the time.

I don’t know why Islam didn’t ban slavery outright. I don’t have the answer for that.

I guess if Islam is so evil, and so bad, I guess the millions of Africans or African-Americans who are Muslims, what should they do? Do people who write and forward these articles think they should just walk away from “backward Islam” altogether?

In posting these sorts of articles, is the existence of slavery, before Islam even came there, ignored? What I’m saying is, if certain African cultures had slavery, before Islam came, should that just be ignored? And if so why, Oh, because Arabs and Muslims are just such evil people, OK, I get it. So slaveery practiced by Africans pre-Islam is OK, or we should just ignore it, because that was “real African culture”. Yet, post-Islam, slavery is all of a sudden bad, because the big, bad Arabs and later white people, took the brutality of slavery to new heights. And their religion, whether Islam or Christianity, encouraged it. And if those evil white people and Arabs would have just left the poor Africans alone, they’d have been fine. Hmmm, is this what is implicitly being said here? So, does this mean that slavery is OK when it was practiced by Africans themselves, but “bad” when other people came in and also practiced slavery? Shouldn’t “slavery” be bad all the time, no matter who is practicing it? Or is it a case of, when it’s your own people, you can’t say anything bad about them?

How is this any different from how some white people act regarding racism? Meaning that, when “other people” are doing wrong, we can talk about it all we want, but when it’s “us” all of a sudden, those problems either don’t exist or they are “different”?

Anyway, I’d wanted to ask for the link or the citation of the publication from where the article came from, but given that this guy, after our bitter exchange regarding Islam, slavery, and racism, all but labelled me a racist and a “bad Muslim”, etc., all because I wasn’t going to yield and not only state just how awful and evil those “Arabs” were, but how bad Islam is, because it didn’t ban slavery outright. I’m afraid that by asking the question, it’s just going to cause me to get into another fight. So please forgive me for the cut and paste, since usually I’d rather just link the article.

Also, anyone who would like to write rebuttals, especially African or African-American Muslims, feel free to do so. I just don’t feel I’m in a position to do so, firstly, because I don’t have the knowledge, and secondly, because well, I don’t feel it’s my place, because my refutation of the article would most likely be seen by some as just “a white person defending the practice of slavery”, or something like that.

I became a Muslim because I believed that there was no God but God, and that Muhammad (may the peace and blessings of Allah be upon him), was His final servant and messenger, and all that that entails. The issue of slavery is, well, I don’t want to say a side issue, but it’s not something that is going to shake my faith, though it may have the potential to shake others’ faith in Islam. And so, this topic needs to, and I think has been, dealt with, by more knowledgeable people in the field of Islamic scholarship. And I’d be much appreciated if people could provide me with links / publications / lectures, etc. regarding this topic.

However, I’m not sure if I’m going to make these available on the list where the original “Islam and slavery” article was posted, because I don’t want to start an article war, like the “different side of sufism” ended up starting, although I did not participate in that article war, Alhamdulillah. I just agreed to disagree with the person who’d posted the original article, and moved on. Anyway, article is below:

Islams’s Black Slaves by Ronald Segal

21/04/2006 Islam was trading in African slaves as early as the seventh century and it was not a picnic compared to chattel enslavement, as some would like to believe. Black men had their genitalia removed and black women were used as concubines…

Islam spread across Africa and along with it trading in slaves

The way the majority of people in the West approach the subject of Islam and its followers is usually from a position of ignorance and suspicion. Yet to attempt to engage in a critical dialogue with Islam many westerners are not sufficiently knowledgeable or care to be enlightened with the tenants of the religion let alone its development and subsequent growth and spread across many continents across the world, especially in Africa.

Turmoil in Africa does not begin with the advent of the Atlantic slave trade in the late 15th century, it begins with Islam’s trading of Black Africans eight centuries earlier. Many studies have been written on the various facets of the history and development of Islam but Ronald Segal’s *Islam’s Black Slaves*, is an adventurous and courageous addition to the annals of orientalism, which may not sit well amongst zealots and fundamentalists alike. Nevertheless Segal’s study lays bare a history of Islam that is full of contradictions and hypocrisies just as, or similar to, Christianity, and yet still leaves room for compassion.

*Islam’s Black Slaves*, first published in 2001, is a timely addition to the many critiques and evaluations of the worth of Islam in today’s secular society. Interestingly the late historian, Joel A Rogers, had researched areas of Islam and slavery as part of his Sex and Race series, to discern African origins of Arab dignitaries and slavers. The same sources and more are used by Segal to enable him to dig deeper and to take into account current issues, policies and examples of the today’s slave trade. The author traces the origins of Islam, from the Prophet, Mohammad, whom he sees as having political motives, beginning in the mid-seventh century of the present era. Islam’s Bible entitled the, Quran, made provision for easing the lot of slaves. *Islam quickly swept across much of Africa and consolidated its position, also trading in slaves, gold and salt amongst other commodities.*

Black men had their genitalia removed and black women became Concubines

According to the author, *Black African slaves were highly sought after and interestingly more women than men were taken, opposite to that operating under the Atlantic slave trade.* Slaves were worked on large-scale construction schemes or on estate agriculture. Some were nurses, housemaids, cooks and others soldiered and became generals and even rulers. *Highly sought after were black eunuchs men who had their genitalia completely removed. Black females where also prized as concubines forming part of harems.* These loyal eunuchs now had the privilege of guarding these harems. And those concubines who produced children for their masters were taken to be their wives. This was not the norm in the Atlantic slave trade. As a result a few of these women rose to high and important positions within Islam.

*There were, however, major slave revolts involving Black slaves during the early period of imperial Islam and one of these were instigated by the Zanj a people from East Africa.* And yet the Fatimid dynasty owed its real power in part to Sudanese, Black African military slaves. Furthermore, *Islam’s imperial designs took its influence into China, India and Spain and with it the Black military, domestic slaves and concubines.* There is clear evidence that many of these slaves won their freedom, and a few rose to prestigious positions effecting the positive development of these countries that the religion grew in.

*After abolition, slavery under Islam continued*, the British policed the East African coastline in an attempt to halt the trade. *However during this period the worst excesses of the slave trade took place.* Zanzibar, an island of the East Coast of Africa, became the principal slave port. Meanwhile on the mainland complete villages, towns and local areas numbering hundreds and thousands of people were decimated due to slavery.

Segal’s book paints an all too vivid portrait of a vile crime to humanity, a Black African humanity that to this day has not fully recovered from such misery. Even during the closing of the Ottoman Empire slaves had rights under Islamic law and would become free and able to rise to prominent positions. Evidence is produced to substantiate such cases. Nevertheless, *slavery under Islam was harsh. Segal points out the contradiction of an African-American acceptance of Islam, especially under the guise of The Nation of Islam*, who champions the rights of its people, whilst keeping silent on current Islamic practises of slavery. Segal concludes with harrowing facts about African governments today whom sanction slavery under Islam. This book is a scholarly guide and for those seriously embarking on Islamic studies, it is highly recommended.

allAfrica.com: Gambia: Two Gambian Journalists Released; Third Still In Custody

Link: allAfrica.com: Gambia: Two Gambian Journalists Released; Third Still In Custody.

Who’s the Guy?

Assalamu alaikum / greetings, Who’s the guy who runs the Radio Tam Tam / www.seneweb.com website? Or at least, the guy I always here on the radio?

Whoever he is, I just wanna thank him, for a good online radio station. And it definitely makes my time here at the computer so much more enjoyable.

Gotta give props to Raki Web Radio, too, though I was having problems with the site, because of the Macromedia Flash stuff, which, as a blind computer user, I dispise about as much as those “word verification” things.

But, those two sites are my two favorite online radio sites. So, thanks guys! Not that you’ll get this, but thanks anyway!

Too bad I couldn’t listen to you guys and take calls at work, because it would sure make the rough calls that much easier to handle!

And Gambia Post also had online media, but again, I had trouble with the accessibility of the site. The only reason Radio Tam Tam is so accessible to me, even though the Seneweb site is in French, and the Google translation is hilariously bad, is because I can get the audio stream on Shoutcast / Winamp. If Gambia Post and Raki Web Radio were the same way, which Raki Web Radio used to be, then I’d listen to those two sites just as much as Radio Tam Tam.

But anyway, as I said, just wanted to thank you guys for a job well done. And keep up the good work!

Writings on The Gambia

Assalamu alaikum / greetings, back when I had my Blogger blog, or I should say, back when I was updating it, I’d started posting my writings on The Gambia, which were written back when I had just returned from my trip to The Gambia in July of 1999. I don’t think I ever finished posting them. I’m thinking of posting them here, starting with the first part and then posting the rest in installments, every couple of days or so.

However, I’m a little nervous about doing so, as I don’t know, I don’t want to seem childish, or narrow-minded, or ignorant, and I think at that time, my writing came across in that way, though that was never my intention.

I remember when I’d first posted my articles online, and invited people to read them, a Gambian accused me of “having a colonial mentality, just like the colonial writers in the past”. I was really hurt by these comments, because I definitely didn’t see myself as that.

I remember, though, one thing this particular person took exception to was my amazement / excitement at the fact that people listened to American music in The Gambia and that they had ice cream. However, my amazement wasn’t so much that they had these things, it was just my amazement at all of the “similarities” I’d seen, when I had prepared myself for, and was told so much by my supposedly Afrocentric professor that, “Africa is so much different then here, so prepare for that”. And to “always expect the unexpected”, etc.

So that was what I prepared myself for. So walking down the street and hearing Usher or Mary J. Blige was amazing to me, not because I was hearing it in the middle of the Serekunda market, but because I just wasn’t prepared for the “similarities”, because it was pounded in my head so much, how “different” it was going to be.

And what do you say to an afrocentric professor who tells you to prepare for the “differences” and to expect the unexpected? Does he have a “colonial mentality”?

I remember when all of this was happening, when all of the comments of “racism” and “having a colonial mentality” were flying my way, I kept going back and forth with this guy, trying to explain to him my position, but to him, it just dug me in a deeper hole. And I remember my mother telling me that if I wanted to be a writer, and that if I wanted my work to be out there for public consumption, that I needed to grow a thick sking, and that everyone wasn’t going to like what I had to say.

And that the people who knew me, knew who I really was, and the rest, who didn’t know me, didn’t matter anyway.

But, I’ll have to decide whether I want to lay myself open to possible criticism and charges of racism again, because this experience of going to The Gambia was a very enlightening and emotional experience for me, and a very personal one as well.

So, I’m just not sure if I want to put myself out there by sharing such a personal experience. I’ll have to think about it.

Daily Observer Newspaper – Gambia gets cyber cafe for the blind

Assalamu alaikum / greetings, a friend of mine had sent this article to me a few eeks back, and I’m just getting around to posting it.

     But I have like a million questions.  What kind of equipment does it have, what kind of books, that sort of thing.  Inshallah, I will be able to go back and look at it one day.

Link: Daily Observer Newspaper – Gambia gets cyber cafe for the blind.

Race — (Again), etc.

Assalamu alaikum, I was reading a post on the Manrilla Blog, and I had some thoughts / comments, but I thought it would be too long to post there so here goes…

Speaking from the perspective of a white person, but also speaking for myself, I’ve always hated it when white people I’d come across would say “I don’t care if they’re white, black, green, or purple”. Or, they’d say something like, “I don’t see color, I see people”, just as the Manrilla blog was talking about.

First of all, the “white, black, green, or purple” statement is stupid because, well, there are not green or purple people. And secondly, I think to the majority of people, whether black or white, color does matter. And I think there are a lot of white people, that, in a drive to show just how un-prejudiced or un-racist they are, will yell and scream about how open-minded they are.

It is only when those proclammations of non-prejudiceness or non-racism are truly put to the test, that a person’s true feelings show.

For example, someone could be talking about how “un-prejudiced” they might be, but look what happens if their son or daughter happens to start dating, or take an interest in, a person from any other racial or ethnic background, then watch what happens!

All of a sudden, the person who was yelling and screaming about how open-minded they are, has forgotten all about those statements, or, what will happen is they will say, “I think they’re equal, but I don’t think it’s right for people to date outside of their race”, etc. So what is being said exactly?

If you truly think that someone is equal to you, then what is wrong with dating or eventually marrying them? Or someone, will say, “Oh, they can be friends, but that’s it”.

And sure, I guess some of the reasons given for being against interracial dating would be because of the so-called problems which might insue. But to me, I just don’t think that explanation is good enough, because one would think that people getting into these types of situations / relationships would be well-aware of the “problems”, and would be ready to deal with them. And anyway, these problems wouldn’t exist, if there wasn’t the stupidity of prejudice and racism in the world anyway.

I’d just like people to be honest. I may not agree with them, but just don’t pretend to be something you are not, because you are too afraid of what people will say, because when your true feelings actually come out, it really makes you look like a hypocrite!

Racism and prejudice has been one issue that has really angered me! The close-mindedness of some people is just well, mind-boggling to me, because I just don’t understand that kind of mentality! There is a whole wonderful world of people out there, just waiting to be met and learned from, why be so narrow-minded as to hate them?

But hey, that is just me. I don’t understand the mentality that makes a person think that it is OK to hate or discriminate against someone for whatever. I just don’t understand it. But, I guess if you think someone is inferior to you, or something, or if you think they have some sort of “undesirable traits”, then I guess that is where it comes from.

But I believe that Allah created all of us, and, as is stated, no man is greater than another except in acts of piety. So there you go.

Anyway, I hate it when I come to my blog to write something, and I have a picture of a wonderful, earth-shattering post, that is going to grab the attention of all of the blogging world, and then I come on here and write the same old mish-mash of “oh we should all be open-minded” etc.

Ugh, this all seems, well, not as good as I’d wanted it to be.

I Wanna Go Back!!!

Assalamu alaikum / greetings, I came across this blog yesterday while just surfing.  Although I spent most of my time in The Gambia, rather than Senegal, this blog really made me reminisce!  Inshallah, I get to go back one day!  And as a Muslim this time, how interesting I think that would be!  I guess I’d better get ready to recite my conversion story about 1,000 times, especially once they here that coming to Senegal and The Gambia is what piqued my interest about Islam in the first place!  Oh, well… 

Link: Meg in Senegal.

Stress

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked,

"How heavy is this glass of water?"

Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.

The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn’t matter.

It depends on how long you try to hold it.

If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem.

If I ! hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm.

If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance.

In each case, it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."

He continued,

"And that’s the way it is with stress management.

If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later,

as the burden becomes increasingly heavy,

we won’t be able to carry on. "

"As with the glass of water,

you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again.

When we’re refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."

"So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down.

Don’t carry it home.

You can pick it up tomorrow.

Whatever burdens you’re carrying now,

let them down for a moment if you can."

So, my friend, why not take a while to just simply RELAX.

Put down anything that may be a burden to you right

now.

Don’t pick it up again until after you’ve rested a while.

Life is short.

Enjoy it!

Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:

* Accept that some days you’re the pigeon, and some days you’re the statue.

* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.

* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.

* Drive carefully. It’s not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.

* If you can’t be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.

* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it

* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.

* Never buy a car you can’t push.

* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won’t have a leg to stand on.

* Nobody cares if you can’t dance well. Just get up and dance.

* Since it’s the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.

* The second mouse gets the cheese.

* When everything’s coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.

* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.

* You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.

* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

* We could learn a lot from crayons…

Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.

*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Have an awesome day and know that someone has thought about you today….

..I did.

Chernobyl accident – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Link: Chernobyl accident – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

The Beatnik Sufis

Assalamu alaikum, is this the reincarnation of the old Levantine Historian blog?  It’s had me laughing for the past 20 minutes or so that I’ve been readin git!  Alhamdulillah, may Allah reward you guys, because I really needed to laugh!  Subhanallah!

Link: The Beatnik Sufis.

I’m Sorry I Posted This!

     Assalamu alaikum, I’m sorry I posted the below article refuting Shaikhs Nuh Keller, Hamza Yusuf, et. al.  Why?  Well, firstly, because when I first posted this, I just glanced through the first part of it, not realizing it was the whole article.  Had I realized it was the whole article, I wouldhave linked it instead.

     I’m familiar with the website it came from, since this was one of the websites I was referring to, in my previous postings regarding people who devote whole sites to "refuting" certain Muslim scholars, and declaring certain people and actions as "kufr, shirk, and bidah".

     I was reading through the article on my blog, and I just feel really sad.  Because by declaring Ibn Arabi a "kafir", they have, and really indeed have, declared anyone who follows him a "kafir" as well, so, in doing so, they are seeming to indirectly calling Nuh Keller and those who follow him, a "kafir" too.

     And this makes me sad.  So which is it?  Are we calling people "deviants" or "kafirs" now?

     Anyway, it just makes me sad, and I feel a sense of anger, and maybe frustration? is it?

     Shouldn’t we be spending time, I don’t know, doing something contructive, like I don’t know, helping the poor?  But I guess by "weeding out the deviant and kafir" among us, some people feel they are doing something constructive.

     I’m tempted to ask if anyone’s written any refutations to the below article, but again, this goes back to adab, and so I’m not sure how the traditioanl scholars have addressed refutations written against them.  I’d guess, though, that they’re not running around yelling "kufr! shirk! bidah!, and Hell-Fire" to anyone who disagrees with them.

     If anything, my experience is they take the good and leave the bad, and try to work with all Muslims, regardless of which "ideology" they follow. 

     But anyway…  As I’ve said, I don’t think * all Salafis * go as far as declaring "deviance" and "takfir" on Muslims, but the below article proves that some indee do.  And well, can I say one more time how "sad" it makes me?

     And I don’t know how else to describe it.  And added to this, is the article I read today about the continued destruction of historical Islamic sites in Saudi Arabia!  And while maybe more Muslims should be speaking out against this, what good would it do?  Since, it doesn’t seem as though the Saudi government is going to listen anyway. 

     I guess I should go now.  I don’t think I have anything else very constructive to say, and if I keep writing, it’s just going to be a bunch of ranting and raving, and I sure don’t want to say something that I’m going to regret later.  Which I probably have already.

BBC NEWS | Asia-Pacific | Java alert for rumbling volcano

Link: BBC NEWS | Asia-Pacific | Java alert for rumbling volcano.

BBC News | In pictures | Chernobyl’s lost city | ?

Link: BBC News | In pictures | Chernobyl’s lost city | ?.

Shame of the House of Saud: Shadows over Mecca

Previously unseen photographs reveal how religious zealots obsessed with idolatory have colluded with developers to destroy Islam’s diverse heritage. By
Daniel Howden

Link: Independent Online Edition > Middle East.

AU should reconsider Gambia summit – press watchdog

Link: Top News | Reuters.co.za.

Gambia president plans to rule for 30 more years

Assalamu alaikum, hmmm…  I really think this Jammeh guy is crazy!  Rule for 30 years?  Ugh. 

Link: World News Article | Reuters.co.uk.

Rihla 2006

Assalamu alaikum, oh how I’d love to go!  But so many hurdles!  Time off from work, working out the logistics, etc.  Hmmm… 

Link: Deen Intensive Foundation : Programs.