Jamilla's Thoughts

writers block

2010-03-14T16:53:00.001-07:00

i can't seem to find words that better my thoughts
i keep grasping at metaphors and my similes are weak
don't know whats lost on me or if it were ever within me
words are the weapons of mass destruction
and can't seem to even shove forward food for thought
i don't know why, if my preoccupied state of mind
has left me bereft of imagination, of feeling
of soul, I used to just think of something or someone
and images would burn into my thoughts and
light thought my fingers for all to see
I used to close myself and describe a starry night
as a velvet blanket sprinkles with peals of light
i use to look at a sunset and imbibe its awe striking beauty
Alas a block, a brick of wall has set itself in front of me
has cornered me and I can't see anything beyond them
I feel lost in a maze of never ending gardens
cannot find words to say the very things in my heart
cannot find peace....
Writing is cathartic and i have not found a medicinal equivalent
its unleashes and eases my soul as effectively
as writing my life in words
finding those inscriptions in my mind
and put them on paper
to recognize me, with words
writers block is killing me

Keeping Dawson in My Prayers

2006-09-15T23:45:00.000-07:00

In light of this Wednesday's tragedy at Dawson College, my own home away from home, I would like to make a prayer for the girl who passed away, Anastasia DaSousa, altogether I did not know you, and the only things we would probably have in common were that we both went to Dawson. But my heart goes out to you, and to your family who must not have expected to have lost you at the mere age of 18, and probably in such a violent manner. But hopefully you did not die in vain. Somehow we are more aware of angry individuals in our fair city, and are looking for solutions to amend your death. This Wednesday will be pink day, in your honor I will wear a lot of pink and raise money for a charity your parents set up in honor of your cruel fate.

I don't quite understand what is going on with the world nowadays. What is it about our society that has made people go insane? Because, he's obviously not the first and unfortunately he won't be the last ( the crazed killer at Dawson) but what makes them...These people? And what makes them get to a point of dislike and disregard for life? What is it that we have done to contribute to the upbringing of such a person and that there were no warning signs according to the close ones of this particular individual. I am in utter shock, I love Montreal with a passion and always thought of it as such a safe place. And I still do despite this incident.....I just wish I could understand for all those parents who are in the hospitals waiting for the doctor to say...That they will make it. I just want to understand for Miss DaSousa, ...I just want to understand...

I think everyone just wants to put their heart to rest...And undertaking the situation is the best we can do to pace ourselves.

Keep Dawson Victims in your prayers...
Jamz
ps. Saddened and heavy hearted child of Dawson

To Sitel...farewell

2006-06-20T01:41:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I am leaving Montreal..my beautiful city to embark upon yet another yahoodi adventure. I always enjoy myself there even though there are times I wish I could bury myself...or ask myself rhetorical questions such as "What in God's name told me to come back here??" but invariably I always leave having had a blast and a little sadness in me. I wish everyone the best, I'll miss you Frrrrrr( Frehewot) my etheopian wonder, Noel ( Roshashanaaaaaaaaa) and well Honduras
( Mr.Smart) ...everyone at Sitel has always made me feel CRAZY and happy even when the bulgarian terrorist was in view. I'll miss the crazy Mental things that my Bangali Slutty did ( Sanam eh hem...plz don't kill samir because who will you annoy when he's gone?) Hashim with his impervious beautiful eyes....I know i know you're not cute..your handsome bro..and Patrick with his obessesion with my books and his special Orange juice only on saturdays...
I wish I had pictures to remember the great time we had my peeps..!!! but I'll be back with a vengence and Pitro Terrorist will not and I mean WILL NOT intimidate me.
LOL do take care luvs bisous bisous
Jamz

A little escape from the city....natures bliss

2006-06-06T06:47:00.000-07:00

For the past couple of years, every time summer has come around I have rushed off to a beautiful place just an hour and half away from Montreal city center. Its a little hideaway to keep my mind in check as well as a place where I make a substantial amount of money. It takes me away from the pressures of city life and all the advantages of them. Although summers up in the Laurentians have been a source of stress because of work, most of the time I'd wake up a coupe of hours early before work and holding on to my huge sweatshirt because its freezing in the morning looking up to see this natures beauty. There is a lake that misted up every single morning, so it was like we'd be walking through clouds in the morning an impeccable masterpiece that only The All Mighty could architect. I'll be off on June 21 insh'Allah.. I hope ya'll have a GREAT summer. After all the turmoil I've been passing through this year I find myself in need of a little escape, so I hope you guys will forgive me for not keeping my blog as updates as I usually do.
do take care my luvs
Jamz

G.I.P. ( Go in Peace) Goodbye luvs

2006-05-21T17:40:00.000-07:00

Well the school year is over for most only by the grace of Allah and on this fateful Sunday great people are leaving a site of Montreal to embark into brighter endeavors and sun kissed destinations. This is my farewell to all the cows that made it worth my while to enjoy things I never would have hadn’t it been for them. You will be kept in my memories if our paths never cross again and they will be kept fresh always.

To Jiman, I'll miss your crazy laugh and the things you've taught me about Brazil, I'll always keep those thoughts near me. If I ever go back to Brazil, I'll remember you always. You've made those E.A.H.S classes bearable with your unforgiving frown and those special days where you'd always have a smile on your face. I'll miss you terribly but I'll be able to survive Con.u without my Brazilian terror Squad...hehehe

To Haytham, haha you'll always remind me of Dawson. Your crazy expressions and your passion for everything, you always reminded me of Mustapha and that's why I maintain my harassment of you. Mustapha is gone but you are still on this earth and memories of you will keep memories of him alive in my mind. But always know MSA Dawson 2003-2005 was the best...even though Montreal never quite suited your falastini tendencies. Enjoy Ontario aye...and keep that funk alive!!!

To Fiane...man..Those times I'll never forget, even if I have to go ALL the way to Cairo just to see you, I'll do it. You are like the silly big brother I never had. You taught me things that only an overprotective brother would..and always let me beat you at soccer. Kept me away from those "losers " or as you dubbed them at school. Never will I forget you..And I hope you go see Yasmine when you go to Cairo, tell her and her mother that I still have them in my heart and Mustapha too...I love you man..

Finally to Jeremy..Mmmm what can I say about this dude? He was always the quiet poet with the sweetest words to woo women, but he chose to keep them to himself. Always so quiet on the outside but so alive and wild once you get to know him...(or in my case when I harassed him enough hahaha). The most generous person I know to date, the kindest soul and just what makes a human being good. He is the essence of goodness; he makes me want to be a better person. I'll miss you oh so terribly. He's the kind of person who doesn't speak of superficial things, he juss makes you think and wonder and makes you believe in yourself. Open-minded, carefree those are the things that I love in him and that he has brought me to where I am now. If you ever come back to Canada, after Saoud sweetie...I'll NEVER forget you. I love you and your family and I will keep contact with you. Tell your mom I miss her. Can you believe it Germy? It's been 15 years we know each other!!!!!! I can't forget you and you better not either.

Time passes by too fast

2006-04-24T23:35:00.000-07:00

Its nearly the end of the month already...how and when did that occur? If I were to sum up what I have done in the past weeks, I swear to you I wouldn't have the faintest clue, the only thing I know is that I went to work, and went to school the rest of my time kind of elapsed without my knowledge. Studying in my little dungeon has not been on help, I remember waking up last week and not remembering what day of the week it was.... isn’t that insane? Work/school/study is all I really have time for nowadays, and I kind of miss my social butterfly abilities. It is kind of dangerous to leave yourself into that kind of frame...because who knows...when you have time...who says your friends will have time for you? But I don't regret the way I've been passing these weeks for the simple fact that it has paid off. I mean the only people I am constantly surrounded with are my family. It’s nice to come home, have your mother cook a great meal for you...because sometimes I forget what a blessing that is. Plus the excessive studying has done me good with my finals, I have reached to the point where, when I go to exams I am completely confident in my abilities because I've been working like a dog for the past semester to keep my grades at this level. But when I woke up this morning and actually took the time to have breakfast, as well as reading the newspaper (something that I believe has actually become a luxury...in time that is) and I looked at the top of the gazette...feigning absolute disbelief is it really April 25th? Goodness, time has not stopped for me while closed the door on my study dungeon...nope the world still goes round people, still drink gallons of lattes at the local Starbucks, movies are still coming out..whether or not I can see them, people dying around the world...even the Canadians did something without my knowledge ( i don't mean the people of my fair country, i am speaking of the local hockey team...GO HABS GO).
Luckily, I've still snagged some interesting seats for the upcoming game this Wednesday, but I had to call in a special favor. I believe it will be the first time in weeks perhaps months that I have done something for the pure enjoyment of it...except for perhaps indulging in my addiction for shoes!!! (Unfortunately I've only taken one pair out for the world to see...but summer is coming up, all hope is not lost...they will see the light of day I promise!!!)

do take care luvs
Jamz

Malcom X

2006-03-24T13:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I was reading for the umpteenth time the autobiography of Malcolm X. Its something I usually do when commuting to school or whatever. I love to read, but Malcolm X is on of my favorite, and I always get dirty looks from my fellow commuters when I pull it up from my purse...because it does give the impression that I might be of the legion of "Black Muslims". Although I am black, and I am Muslim and people can clearly see that, because of my hijab, they either give me this.... scared menacing look or, they straight come up to me and ask me if I am a black Muslim, the Elijah Muhammad following kind. Usually I smile and answer their questions just because I don't want to be associated with that group of people.... but yesterday, this guy was terribly annoying and I didn't answer him, leaving him to his own means to draw his own conclusions...

Anyway the controversy of even reading his book in public shows just how powerful the book is. Even 40 years after his death, mention of his name still gives people a reaction, if they like him, their loyalty to his memory is infallible, but if they were scared, nothing and no one could tell them that he was a figure in the end of his life of peace.

When I read his book the first time, I was probably 14 years old, my sister was completely fascinated with him, and I just had to know what it was that was fascinating about a book, that had been made into a movie. I mean why would I read a book knowing its end. He dies; there is no way around it. But to assure myself that my assumption were adequate, I had to read it. All 466 pages, I had to be as engrossed as she was about this man, who had died 20 years prior to my birth.

When you read this book, I hope you feel the same as I do. Seeing the movie was great as long as you hadn’t read the book because the book was...in one word a masterpiece. Alex Haley made this book to be read as if one was talking to this inspired man, this strong and willful human being through the traumas of his very public and tragic ending.

From the words of an inspired youth...go pick up a copy of The Autobiography of Malcolm X.

catch phrases

2006-03-14T16:34:00.000-08:00

I remember when i was younger my mom used to have these phrases that were typically her like :
1) "Unless you're going to cry milk don't cry" ( to which the meanning still escapes me...but she just wanted us to stop crying, and held a cup to our faces...to assure us it wasn't milk we were crying)

2)if at one point we thought she was going to kill us because she was soo mad, she'd say to us in an non threatning tone " I would never kill you, I love myself too much to go to prison for you"

3)or would threaten us with a butter knife and say "We" Pronouced "Wai" which essentialy ment..." YOU"

4)or when we didn't want to wash after a full day of school, and playing in the snow for hours she would say "God loves the sweet smelling ones...do you think you smell sweet? NO go wash!!!"

these lines still make me laugh...lol share a few...if you would be so kind

ps. I thought about it because I watch "Ray Charles the movie" and in each sequence of paramount importance his mothers catch phrase could be found "Scratch a lie find a theif"

what do dreams mean?

2006-02-03T04:13:00.000-08:00

Last night I had a series of dreams, three distinct dreams where one dream had nothing to do with another, and realeased in me three respective emotions that were briefly lain upon my being. Why have I concluded that they were not one in the same dream? Probably because I slept moe than I should have, and because there was no cohesion within one dream to the next, no glue to stick them together...just my pure imagination...that difts off suddenly when I go to lala land...here are interesting dreams...

My understanding of the first dream was one had perhaps the most detail, or the most meaning to me. I was amongst a group of my comrades from school on a trip to my place of birth. Somehow, on my way out of the airport, I stopped, while my friends were all laughing and jesting about. I found myself confronted with a woman who possessed my mothers looks, I wasn’t certain for it took me aback, and yet when I looked again to confirm what I had seen, I couldn’t count it as mere coincidence. I merely sat there for what felt like an eternity and stared at her, her moves, and my voice…everything. Perhaps this comes from the fact that I don’t remember any of my aunts from my mothers side and had I probably wouldn’t have dreamt of her as such. So, gathering all my wits about me, I came up to her and ask her if she knew a woman by my mother’s name. She looked me up and down a signature move of my very own kin, she asked pleafully whom was asking. I told her that she reminded me of my mother and my mothers face was forever engraved in my ill dotted self. So looked at me and uttered my sisters name “Amina?” she said quietly almost to see if I would recognize the name. I said “ Its Jamilla, Amina is at home” as, if to prove it she started speaking to me in my mother tongue, which in real life I have no grasp over, but somehow I spoke the foreign tongue until she embarrassed me, with tears gleaming in her eyes. To confirm the impossible fact that my mother was in fact her sister, I pulled out my cell phone and called home, speaking unbearably fast, I told her of my odd coincidence right at the airport. The lady was my aunt, and spoke so fast I couldn’t keep all I knew was at the end of the phone call, she was smiling, brushing my hair with her fingers and telling me that I would come and rest at her house. As I got there, I remember thinking how lucky I was, and how amazingly beautiful her residence was. Then I lap to another dream although this one still in Kenya.

So I was in Kenya ohh beautiful Kenya. Never in my life have I seen such beauty and its my place of birth, a pride of land that I had never afore felt nestled quite easily within me. We were brought to what I believe is a national park, where we saw lions sleeping, all of God’s creatures simply laying for my eyes to see. Then my best friend Caroline came across this huge forsaken creature, this crocodile that could easily match her size thrice times. She way gaily walking towards the creature without a care in the world, knelt down to pat him, and I was screaming at her: “ARE YOU MAD YOU CRAZY POLISH GIRL WHAT IN GODS NAME ARE YOU DOING?” My voice seem to arise the creature and it almost took a nip at her arm, but she calmed the creature down whispering soft nothings into its non apparent ears. Then with a raging grunt the animal made its way to me, gnawing at my leg, and I was screaming for my dear life. Caroline who in my dream seemed to be accustomed to the crocodiles moods, gently grabbed his mouth shut and sat on him for a good while, still whispering nothings into its invisible ears, but the animal seemed to have calmed down and made a gleeful noise before returning into the swamp, I was so grateful to her saving my life, I could but hug her tightly until she complained that I had rid her of her breath.

My Third and final dream during my stretched hours of sleep, came about very oddly. All I knew for certainty, was that I was to be married to a Turkish fellow and that I was delaying everything because of my need for my natural release. My sister was tailgating me almost to make sure I wouldn’t run away. I was running up and down stairs looking for a bathroom, this place that seemed a labyrinth and I couldn’t just couldn’t not go to release myself it was an urging matter that seemed to have prompted a lot of stir. Every time I would find myself back in the lush roam where I was about to give myself away to this man that I had a current dislike for. I wasn’t running away, my fate was sailed but I guess I wanted to be more comfortable with it, and not remember myself urging the Imam on so I could finally find release. On my way to the bathroom the one that had been hidden I found myself faced with a man I had long forgotten, someone I had met when I was a mere child. His name was Yusuf. I really cared much for him and I don’t remember seeing his face only knowing that it was in fact he and he was there somehow when I was about to give myself away. It seemed destiny. I eventually found the dreaded bathroom, but as I came down the stairs to finally marry it was her Yusuf who was at my side, we got married instead of the Turkish fellow, who I hadn’t seen since I had crossed him before leaving to find myself a restroom.

After the long series of dreams I have to ask myself what it all means, do I need to find my roots and that is why I dreamed of an aunt of which I have no real concept? Do I need to let myself be protected by someone I deeply care about, even from things I have caused? Is that why Caroline was there, with her sudenly acquired skills with animals? Am I afraid to get married and to shackle myself to someone I don’t know? I really have a lot to maul over. If anyone else finds another possible meaning to this…plz help me.

Jamz dreadfully sleepy

.:Love: Blissfull ignorance:.

2006-01-31T22:24:00.000-08:00

Its very hard to describe what one would call love, I mean when I think to myself of the many memories I have of being in love, I always smile thinking to myself, that when those memories were created I had no knowledge of its untimely end. Innocence and blindness, naiveté is what made me fall so uncontrollably and so deeply. I didn't know what could come of it, nor did I care, I just seized every single moment I could spend with that person. So is bliss the ignorance of all the circumstances that surround us? I think that's what made me so happy in my time of naive child-love. Because had I know then what I know now, I would have been a cynic, and I would have never have engulfed myself so fully in this relationship, in this heart of mine that was broken countless times. I would have avoided a connection with another human being. I would have surrounded myself with things I knew would work, and as expected they would have worked. But aren’t the wonders of love the fact that one does not know the future? One does not expect or demand anything? Just receiving boundless memories that are to be made. I was lost so many times in a persons eyes, in the things they made me feel, so engrossed in that passion that I could not see what lay before me. And today nothing would make me smile at memories, nothing would allow my innocence to make me remember what it was like to know nothing other that what was expected. Innocence, bliss is all ignorance of what lay before them, it is everything and nothing and makes you smile when knowledge has come to you. It even leaves you with a delightful little tingles of what it was to kiss, hug, touch, this person that one harbors no longer those feelings for. Its makes for us a wonderful understanding that not understanding something sometimes is best, because were we to rationalize every single detail of our lives, we would find that sometimes not thinking things through makes things more beautiful. I really don't know what I am blabbing about only that I had a beautiful memory of my first kiss...

Yours delightfully unaware
Jamz xxx

.:birthdays are ??:.

2006-01-24T22:32:00.000-08:00

I just turned 21 this past weekend thinking to myself what have I done, in the last year to be graced with such a beautiful gift as time. Well, I graduated from Cegep, got my heart broken, and what else? Learned that were I to live alone I would a complete and utter neat freak. I've enjoyed most of my time as a 20 year old, but the obstacles of my road this year took something from me. I am ususally very cautious when it comes to telling people my business ( yeah lol the blog is somewhat diffrent) and cautious about even making friendships. I don't know why, but that has been my thing. Its almost as if I think someone is out to get me. And in some ways, that has been drilled into my head from birth by my parents. Obvisouly they never told me that everyone is out to get me, but keeping ones eye one their company was certainly important, and not reveiling too much about myself because it might be used against me. Which has been done, over the course of my 21 years, but only 2 which is a wholesome average for being wrong about whom I choose to befriend and confide in.

Where was I going with my over cautiousness? Yeah well during this year, it was a time of reflection, a time of introspection, and letting go of my inhibitions. I did things I never thought I'd be able to do, for example be in a social arena, within which 99.9% of the people at the gathering weren't aquaintences of mine and I managed to get out of it, make it profitable in my clientele and I was genuanly at ease. I also learned that I've develloped a talent in which I can tell who wants to bother talking to me and who doesn't right from the get go. Another accomplishment would be, that I've learned to smile more often than I ever have before. It wasn't something I did free of cause, but on a general scale now that I have to work in an enviroment where I have to encourage clients to buy from us rather than from our competitor, a smile goes a long way, and it merits alot on a scale of if the sale goes well.
%0

Jamz who finaly turned LEGAL EVERYWHERE IN THE WORLD

Camera Crazy

2006-01-14T01:58:00.000-08:00

Sorry I am going a little camera crazy but I had to endulge myself in a couple of more beautiful monuments of faith in and around Kenya. Including the Silver Dome Mosque aka Jamia Mosque in Nairobi ( Nations Capital), also happens to be my favorite because that was were both my parents, and 3 sisters made their Shahadah:)

Kenya...and its mosques...

2006-01-14T01:44:00.000-08:00

Since everyone was rep-ing bout their countries, figured I would to a general search of muslims in Kenya ( althought, those are not my roots; both my parents converted to Islam) but its was facinating to see and kinda get a gasp of how long Islam has planted its roots in my country.

I know one mosque in lamu ( a city about south east of the coast) has one of the eldest mosques in East Africa that dates of 1500AC ( the tomb stones I found on another page confirmed as early as 1420 AC)

2006...so what?

2006-01-11T14:49:00.000-08:00

So far, in this secular time schedule, the year of 2006 AC is one of the most confusing years I've ever encountered. I feel free in some ways, and trapped in others. My family al7amdoulilah is doing much better than last year; we have somehow shifted toward something honest, clean and pure. But my heart, my being, I feel like pure stagnation. Like a star which lost its life long ago but we can still see it shining from the sky. I have some many things to be thankful for, because no matter how bad ones situation is, there is always something far worse, pending of course on the eye of the so called victim.

A love stricken person who doesn't have his/her feelings shared could believe somehow that, that is worse then death. Some people actually die of that, a pure broken heart, but I know Allah doesn't give me things I am not strong enough for. Then someone who doesn't have his essential needs dealt with, always struggling about. I guess we don't realize on what level our lives depend on so many things pretend happiness. Some are satisfied with very little others never satisfied, EVER. So it’s never really a matter a matter of what cards one is dealt with, its more a matter of how one plays the game of life. I am not ungrateful for all the blessings that befall on me. I am just a little sad, for myself, these days the only friends I have, are the stars in the sky that Allah put there for my eyes to see, when I am shoveling up snow in the driveway early in the morning for my father. I watch, I talk to them.... because they just fill me with light and happiness. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I have many friends of course, am lucky enough to have found such deep souls. But sometimes, those deep souls behind those beautiful eyes, I cannot bring myself to reveal myself completely unto them. Is that lack of trust? Most certainly. Why is that? I've seen more people hurt with the truth, than hurt with lies.

Therefore, if I don't reveal my complete self to everyone, I figure I won't get unnecessarily hurt, by my own fault (which would be to confide in someone who wasn't worthy of it) because no matter what anyone else says, I would completely blame my own stupidity on the matter. I've been hurt a lot in this world, and that is not to gain anyone's pity or compassion that I say this, I say it so that people who know me or at least know what I have allowed him or her to understand of me, that they can somehow understand me better. I am a very private person, and I have walls around myself to protect my heart from being hurt, I maybe loud I maybe soft spoken, I may look shy I may look reserved. None of these reveal my true self; I am one way with certain people and another way with others. Everyone is multi-faceted, therefore like I said; I lean on the stars for guidance, to listen to me, for shelter from the craziness of the world.

Hopefully I get out of my phunk
Jamz

5 Things people don't know about Moi!!

2005-12-30T23:47:00.000-08:00

Sorry I keep getting bored and I keep seeing interesting things on Nura's blog, that would open a new world to everyone if I just say..( don't be offended Nura...one only imitate that which they admire) 5 Things YOU DONT KNOW ABOUT ME

Primo: My babysiter was the sister of the famous hockey player Raymond Bourque ( He played for the boston bruins) I met him on several occasions and when he won the stanley cup, he came to my high school to dedicate it to one of Emile Legault's ( my high schools name) finest PE instructors Msieur Ben..

Secundo: I have a weird obsession with cleaning my ears..dirty ears is a total turn off for me.

Tertio: If I don't talk to you the first time I meet you its either because, I haven't decided that you are worth talking to, or because you are still going throught my screening process ( YES I have a screening process, within which I determin if a person is worth talking to after I have heard them talk for a substancial amount of time..)

4th ( I don't know how to count beyond 3 in latin sorry): When I was 18 months old, I used to be completly and utterly petrified of chicks. ( My gandma owned a farm with hens, and chicks etc..and when I would see one, I would invariably cry or run as fast as an 18 month old could)

and finaly 5th: Until the age of about 17, I truly and sincerly thought that I was going to become a famous singer.

scoff scoff...now its your turn Haytham

Sirens

2005-12-29T01:54:00.001-08:00

(This is not a real story, stories I’ve read, movies I’ve watched and people I’ve known inspired it).

I remember when we didn’t fight and spend all day in each others arms, holding each other like nothing in the world mattered but us. But now, all the noises I hear are those of the ambulance, the sirens are roaring and my head is aching. It happened so fast, that I didn’t even realise that I was bleeding because the pain you caused me was so beyond my physical being.

The first time, we were in a fight about something insignificant, and you got so angry, so frustrated and pushed me against the wall and hurt my back. I was so surprised and horrified that I screamed and yelled ran out of the house in my night robe not caring what I looked like. I ran to my car, arms flailing, heart beating…and got myself on the road as you screamed after me to come back. When I got to my sisters house, in tears and in my satin bedrobe she knew something crazy must have happened for me to disturb her at this time of night. I explained to her what he had done in my absolute disbelief.

How could this have happened? I had it all set in my mind about what I was going to do the next day, while he was at work, I’d pick up all of my stuff, bring it to my sisters house until I could find a place to stay. When I had a hearty breakfast, called in sick, I rummaged throught my sisters closet, found a pair of sweats and got in my car with my mind set on finding a way to unstick myself from my husband. A man I had always admired until yesterday. I had to find a way to go….

Once I pulled into my driveway, noticing his car wasn’t there made me that much more releaved that I didn’t have to see him. Two years I lived with this man, not knowing what he was capable of; had I not been there yesterday, I would have bet my right hand that he would never harm me. So as I walk to my door, a familiar face greets me: “Hey baby, I took the day off so we could talk about yesterday”, he says, with that perfect smile he always uses when he wants to get out of the dog house.

I look at him, as if he was just a stranger in the street and walk past him, into my bedroom where I grab my red valise and I start packing. He looks at me incrudilus: “Baby what are you doing? We can talk about this, don’t do it. It was all my fault.”

He lay a hand upon my shoulder while he is quickly nuzzling my neck, my weakness.

I scream in frustration at my own stupidity, how could I even allow him to touch me?

I tell him: “I really don’t have time for this, let me get my stuff and get out of your way, I can’t do this. I really just can’t.” So, looking deeply into my eyes, he gives me the sadest look I had ever seen in my life, he falls down on his knees and nuzzles his cheek against my slightly englufed belly…He looks at me tears in his eyes, and asks me: what are going to do with the baby? How can one fight separate us, when we are ment to be?” Silently I cry within myself because those are the words I wanted to hear…He loves me, and he loves this baby. I can’t leave him, what will I be without him?

He pulls me into his arms and he kisses me with a passion I haven’t seen in him since the first day we met. When I take a shower that night, I look at myself in the mirror, recognizing the purple mark on my back, its still hurts but he promised he wouldn’t do it again. So I call my sister to reasure her that I am all right but I would be staying with my husband, and that we’d work it out.

In the 2^nd trimester of the miracle of my unborn child, I am fully rounded, and I feel as big as a house. And he hasn’t been around to take care of me, where is he? He had to work late for the past three days, I haddn’t seen him and he haddn’t even wanted to come see the doctor with me. I wanted to tell him the great news that by the grace of the sonogram, I was the proud mother of a baby girl. I made dinner, candles, music, and the whole atmosphere. He came home at eleven thirty again, tired with eyes welted to his face, no expression, no humor, nothing. I couldn’t believe he didn’t recognize any effort, I was mad, and frustrated and perhaps maybe my hormones had been an element. But I came charging at him. “What the hell…it’s the third time this week you come home late, no phone call nothing, and here I am waiting for you, what did I get? Nothing not even a kiss. That door got more love than I did. Whats going on with you? Are you….” The look he gave me stop me in midsentence. He had the look of someone who wanted to kill. “What? You think Im having an affair? Is that what you think? WOMAN? You think I enjoy spending hours at work, not seeing you, not seeing my friends?” Then he walked towards me charging, cornering me against the wall. “You better learn how to talk to me! I ain’t gonna take this kind of disrespect anymore. I don’t need to call if I am late. You know where I am, call the office!”And his hand slashed accoss my face. Crying and bleeding excessivly I ran to the bathroom not beleiving that it had happened again. And then the knocks on the door, told me it wasn’t about to end with just a slap. He said screaming against the door:“Woman! You better open that door, you wanted to confront me like a man, you need to know how a man gets treated.” He kept bagging and bagging until finaly the door gave in, and he charged and me sitting on the bathroom floor with blood on my tongue and tears. That sight didn’t stop him, he picked me up, shoved me on the hard wood floor, and when I realised he was about to kick me I kicked his leg. That only got him angrier. He walked with the determination in his eyes like he knew he was going to suck a life out of me. He kicked me and punched me and now all I can hear is sirens. The last thing I remember was running out of the house, running towards my car, and then finaly seeing my sister’s face.

The paramedic keeps saying, we might loose her but I was awake and besides the aches on my face and ribs, I felt alive.

When I woke up the next day, I was in dainty room, with flowers and plants. My ribs were hurting but something inside me was hurting more. And I started to scream at the searing pain, I was bleeding. A nurse was called and I passed out again. Its only right now that I realise, as I sit on this bed mending my wounds, wiping my tears, that I realise, I lost my baby. An ache that I had never felt before placed itself inside of me, a pain so profound, that it was as if someone had robbed me of my soul and I was just a lifeless body roaming about this world. I had lost her. How could I have allowed myself to loose her? My sister walked in, with her husband and 2 children. Looking at me as if they had seen death and it looked better than me. They kept me company for the most of the day, when I really just wanted to be alone. They helped me numb my pain, and I love them for it. As vsiting hours came to a close, he showed up, peeked his cocky visage in my peerage. I was scared and shocked and I pressed the red button for the nurse. He had the gall to ask me how I was doing. I looked at him in utter disbeleif: “How could you ask me that, when you know I lost her? I lost her..YOU KILLED her and took her from me!!” He looked at me, looking bermused as if he didn’t realise what he had done. He fell on the floor just the nurse came walzing in. She asked me what the problem was, and I simply told her that visiting hours were over, therefore I didn’t want to see him and I hope that he never came again. She alerted security about my problem and they adhered to the situation well.

That was two years ago, I have gotten over loosing a precious life, and gotten over loosing whatever it was we had, my husband and me. But at night I still hear sirens.

And sirens always tell me I need to remember never let someone else tell me what I need.

If you want more information on how you can help…www.domesticabuseaware.org

yours truly

Jamz

Snow Angel

2005-12-14T18:23:00.000-08:00

In the mist of this snowfall in Montreal, all I can seem to think about is my childhood when snow brought about this happiness in my heart. It meant school was out, it meant my mother was going to buy hot chocolate, it meant we were going sledding, and it meant just pure happiness. It meant freedom from the shackles of day-to-day life.... two weeks of absolute perfection.

In my youth snowfall was meant camping up north, with all of my little friends for a couple of days just long enough to miss my mother. During those fun filled days, we'd learn how to ski, snowboard etc.no one ever really liked any of it, and we just loved tobogganing.The light sprinkle that came from the sky, makes me remember the softer times, when we could entertain ourselves with very little, adults tend to take things for granted.

With laughter in my eyes, my mom would make her famous pancakes and sausages every Sunday. To this day the smell of it reminds me of quieter times when my biggest worry was if I was going to get dessert because, I got kicked out of class to talking back. My parents were mostly indulgent to my capricious needs. I was a free spirit with nothing to stop me from diving into that pile of snow and making myself dozens and dozens of angels and when I was tired of that, my boots filled with snow, my toes frostbitten, I would jump back in there to make myself a couple of snow men. I would have snow fights with my two brothers, and my mom would usually join the fun until she got tired...but we didn't mind, we'd make forts and we'd fight against the neighbors, One United Front.

I had a beautiful sense of imagination, sense of pride in my little inhibited soul. No question was too straightforward, no idea impossible, nothing and no one could stop me. My parents always made me feel that, and it always I guess the first snowfall reminds me of the times where I didn't have any limit, I didn't censure myself, and when I would make people around me smile by just being myself.

Sometimes I wonder what has happened to that person I was, I wonder what made me change, what made me censor the person I am from the person I want to be...but I know forever, that I will remain my mothers mind, the Eternal snow child.

Have yourself a blessed and fruitful day.... Im gonna go play in the snow

Jamz xxx

Quietude

2005-12-13T19:29:00.000-08:00

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and she asked me how I was doing and if everything was ok. For the most part that question would have gone unnoticed but for the bare purpose of the fact that i had not talked to her, since my life was turned upside down and I had to pick up the pieces of my hurricane affected life, I actually sat down and counted the blessings I possessed.
First and formost, since I was talking to her, my voice, my mouth my intellect was still semi functioning, all the blessings in that, my eyes althought I am afflicted with myopia, I can still decipher objects, and I have glasses to correct my handicap, I have eyelashes to sweep the dust from my eyes, I have a nose that helps me appreciate the subtle smell of roses. I have arms and legs, feet to carry my weight...and so many more blessings that I don't even know about, but in the end with that many blessings how can I be an ingrate and say that I am not good?

I understand that with all these blessings, some of us cannot fulfill the need of "happiness" but those who are the least blessed have something I hope to never acheive nor experience.

A Black heart.

So All I hope for in this life and in the next is for a state of quietude in my heart, that no matter the circumstances that surround me that I remember my blessings, count the ones I know of, and remain unshattered in my faith...for in the end that that is all that can withstand the test of time, agony, pain, dispairity and all of those that surround those negative circle of thoughts.

Bare in mind that if Allah gave you value by putting you in this world, no one can even try to take it away from you, that cause shall be in vain, and a shadow of wrath shall befall upon your humble soul.
Remember your blessings, and remember your state of ignorance, only those things will keep you in the state of servitude towards your Allah.

I am more than fine, I am blessed
Jamilla...

Vanity

2005-12-13T10:30:00.000-08:00

After having gone through what it is I am going through, I can honestly say that it has been a period of growth, one that I shall never forget and never regret. I excluded myself from my friends, my family only so I could share an extra moment with him in my life. Stupid mistakes, that I have seen others commit but I could never understand why such stupidity could invade such intelligent minds. But now I understand what happened. I never remember feeling so beautiful when I was in his arms. Nor do I remember feeling so free. But it was all a sham, and we came back to reality oh too soon. Phases of my life are what make life so complicated nowadays.

Its ridiculous to even assume one understands a situation fully unless they have been in the exact same position as the protagonist. I still crave to hear his voice on the phone, still dream about his arms around my waiste, still reach in the middle of the night for his quiet face awaiting a kiss but in the end...all I grasp is emptiness...my infatuation with him was empty and filled with the vacuum of vanity.

He told me time and time again how beautiful he thought I was, how soft my skin was against his, even how he enjoyed my lips...does that make me a vain individual? Did I feel anything for him at the beginning? No not really...I thought he was cute, and I was attracted to him but feelings didn't develop. Then why are these feelings coming up now? Because I know for a fact that...human beings are...habit mongers.... when I called him every night it became a habit for me to hear him speak to me.... the words I wanted to hear. It became a habit for me feel his arms around me...like that was how nature intended life to be for us, it became a habit for me to expect his mouth to reach me every time we were in proximity.... but the habit has ceased...and so will these cravings and urges.... hopefully one day I will wake up and not expect his mouth to be near mine...hopefully my grasps will not come out empty and my vanity will fall unto shreds. But for now, I will long for them far away and concentrate on the task at hand...keeping warm on a cold December night.... yours truly
Jamz xxx

Diary of a Stolen Woman

2005-10-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

So its 4 in the morning in Montreal, and what am I doing writing this blog? I really don't know, I’m just confused about a whole bunch of stuff. and I thought I'd talk it out with myself. So, I’m completely infatuated with this persona that I've only met a couple of times in my life. But these couple of times have been marking to me, the first time I met him I was about 13 years old or so....and he was part of my sisters "group". It was at an iftar, He's an interesting character, always looking to busy himself up, but my infatuation with hiim only came quite recently. I never really noticed him before. He's got a little something special about him, a great sense of humour and a intrigue that resides around him like an aura. I think what I like about him most is his mystery, he's got these beautiful espresso coloured eyes that make you want to drink out of them and when he looks at you, there is no doubt in your mind he isn't distracted by anything else but you. I also like the fact that not everyone notices him, if you want to find him at a gathering, he won't be the in your face "HEY HERE I AM..LOOK AT ME" person. He'll be the quiet guy sipping him tea in the corner of the room with a mischievous smile on his face. He's got a presence about him that cannot be ignored, and the fact that he's tall doesn't hurt at all...

So when he talks to me, even when there might be 30 people around us, and 6 people between us, its like he's reserve that space in time for this. Every noise is diluted and only sounds like a faint whisper, and he is the only voice that fills the room. His warm voice and his scant appreciation for people who need to be the centre of the world, make me want to get to know him on a level than perhaps anyone has ever achieved . He's just infatuated me, and made me want to pursue a friendship with him. Usually for me that's rare, I don't usually talk right away to people I am not familiar with. But with him, he instantly made me feel like, whatever I said, my answer to his questions, held some value to his eyes. Does he know I think of him this way? I sincerely doubt it, because it only fell upon my thoughts tonight, a time within which I had to myself, to think and pause and rewind. Am I going to pursue this? Perhaps…No I WOULD love it ...having dinner with him made the rain ( it was pouring cats and dogs outside, and I was wearing peak-a-boo sandals), which was soaking my feet less begrudgingly queer.

I don't get to think about insanities like this all the time and when I do, I love it, it makes me wonder what other wonderful things this world holds for me. But for the moment, I am a stolen woman, in need for a night of carefree laughter, irrefutable nonsense, romantic movies..only to get lost in emotions I had forgotten existed. A stolen woman in no need of being found, and glad to see and feel adventure. Hopefully, this man, will be the thief, this espresso eyed robber, who will whisk me into a night of mischief.

yours truly Jamilla..

.a stolen woman

Stopping bad habits

2005-10-27T07:02:00.000-07:00

For this Sacred month of Ramadan, I have decided I would stop smoking for my health, for my family, but most Importantly for Allah. Its been pretty hard for me so far because smoking for me was the easy way out of strong emotions. With the cancer stick I could relax, hold on, think and gain some perspective. Without it for the past couple of days, I've been going off on everyone, not being able to control my strong emotions. and every time I feel the need to go grab on to one of my cancer sticks, instead, I go drink some water with a light because before I bring the liquid to my lips I say Bismilah. But during the day, that is infact not as hard as it was at the beggegning of this month.The day passes by pretty fast, and I barely think of taking any nicotine, its the morning right when we are eating suhr, that I used to sneak off and have myself one. While walking home from school and or work I had a cigarette, my mom would annoy me, off I'd go to blow some steam off...it was quite easy for me to come back relativly calm after a 10 min intake of this addiction of mine....

my point is in fact, hopefully I'll get throught the rest of this month having aquired one less bad habit.
make duah that I stop

Jamz

the survey everyone is doing.....

2005-10-18T01:01:00.000-07:00

I saw this on Nura's blog, and I am a little tired of studying so I thought I'd write something that didn't require any brain power at all.........

1.LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:Here on Earth, with my sister..I wanted to see 4 brothers..but she wanted cheezyness… and hell she got it..

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?Right now Im reading a series of annoying Manuals for class…but The Qur’an is outside of my curriculum and..mmm what else Multiculturalism: Fact or Myth

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?Does Mad Gab Count? Even though there are any boards?

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?Cosmo… don’t ask why, I just do

5. FAVORITE SMELL?My lilac tree in the backyard of my house…it reminds me of my childhood.

6.FAVORITE FOOD?Mama’s cooking

7. FAVORITE SOUND?A Baby’s laughter

8. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?Guilt

9. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP?La Illaha Illa La… THEN mmmm AM I LATE AGAIN tabarnak… Trafic is gonna be nuts

10. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?Tsi Chu ( Chinese Halal place I love)

11. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME:Dawud and Jannah

12. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY:I’d buy myself some time..lol no..probably do the smart thing and help my parents with their financial duties…what else..then put it in a bank

13. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?Define Fast….

14. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?Yeah lol I know Im 20 but its really more for sentimental value… I can sleep without it..

15. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?Beautifuly Scary..lol nahh I love em

16. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?still waiting for it….but I hope my first one is a shelby 78

17. FAVORITE DRINK?Coffee…and the special kenyan brew that they sell at Second Cup across the street from Gaza U….the lebanese guy always gives me a discount ( wink wink)

18. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD...":sleep..and learn how to cook better looooooool

19. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?That would imply that I eat brocoli volontarily…which I don’t but if my ma puts it on my place knowing that Im gonna give her that face..she’ll say “Jammy its good for you” And I’ll eat EVERYTHING in one shot… I don’t have time to dissect food I don’t enjoy..LOL

20. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?mmm I would die it back to its original color..whatever color it is lol I think its number 10293 # with highlight 204830# and maybe number 20938-029 on the base what do you think? LOL I’ve never died my hair in my entire life…I was just yanking ur chain..I don’t plan to either

21. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN:Nairobi, Mombasa, Toronto,Montreal… and I went away to Ste Adolphe for 2 months for the past 2 years…so maybe that counts too

22. HALF EMPTY OR FULL?Full.

23. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH:Soccer, Basketball,Rugby,Track and field ( KENYAN SPORT) Tennis and hockey..( only when the habs play)

24. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS!it wasn’t sent to me lol I just took it off Nura’s blog, but one nice thing to say about her hummmmm…… she’s the nicest Cow ever

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?Night Owl..to the CORE

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?don’t eat eggs that way

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?My lazy Boy

28. FAVORITE PIEApple pie a la mode mmm the crumble stuff is good too

This morning

2005-10-17T02:37:00.001-07:00

I am awake this morning and I have only Allah to thank for that, and so as I usually do within the first seconds of my waking, I bat my eyes twice, and whisper to myself: "La Illah Illa La" There is no God but he. For had I not reaffirmed my own beliefs to myself, I would forget, and had I died this very morning, I would have died without saying those important words to myself. This morning is beautiful, one among many, and I am glad to have had the opportunity to have them. As I woke, my mother called in the hallway "Jamillaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa its time to eat, quick, come upstairs!!!!" This year Ramadan has blessed me with yet other moments to count as memories of my life.....as usual my brothers come and we eat well before we vow to take a fast for Allah, it is truly beautiful and unique the atmosphere I feel this year. Somehow along with the chaos of noise, laughter, tears, there is a resonance of peace that has engulfed my house. Praise be to Al-Karim...

I am a little nervous about he exam that is about to take place today, so I read more than the required chapter of the Qu'ran per day. I read and was filled with this sense of comprehension, I feel warmth and peace as I am about to embark in my second session of midterms at what students lovingly call "Gaza U."

So, as I am preparing my stuff for school, and sifting through my laptop notes of class, I wanted to share my overwhelming sense of gratitude. No matter the result of this exam, I am ok with that, for I did positively study like an insane person, and now, I have to but see the result of what I call my "ultimate cramming session". Its not really cramming, because I've been prepping this exam for the past two weeks, but the last three days, I've stayed in the study dungeon of my bedroom.

Therefore, someone plz wish me luck as I am about to embark on a sordid adventure one might like to call "The Education system"

take care younglings
Jamz

Alone

2005-10-15T16:59:00.000-07:00

I've been pondering a whole bunch of non sense for the past 3 days, and I've come to three conclusions, first that I have WAY too much time on my hands and not enough stuff to do to fill it up, second, that when one is secluded, one has time to figure out nonsensical things and lastly DO NOT LEAVE ME ALONE for three days..

No basically the nonsensical bit are untrue, I've figured out plenty of things that make a little sense.... Ramadan has been a most refectory process for my inner spirit......

I've come up with a couple of interesting fact about my being and its place in this world. First I’ve discovered myself an eternal optimist. Second I love the city I live in with the profundity of the Nile. Finaly I'm completely in love with the fact that I come from a mix background.

Why am I the eternal optimist? Only the Most Bountiful could truly explain that for He knows me better than I know myself...but I'll try to explain it. I started speaking to this person, who in my opinion finds it fashionable to not believe that the world can and will correct itself. He believes that history serves no purpose, and cannot and will not help us learn from our forefathers mistakes, and improve upon them. That is one of the main reasons I want to teach history in High school. Because I remember when I was there, history was but a bore, and the only reason I took it was by obligation....(in Quebec one can only receive their diploma after completing level 4 history) which is basically a bore...to me at the time. But then I met an Amazing teacher who made history a part of me, and made it very personal. He basically taught us to see that history is human nature at its prime...( hence the reason it was recorded) unfortunately human nature at its prime is pretty repetitive… and consistent. We were a very culturally rich school with a sum of about 54 or 56 different nationalities . So then my teacher thought to himself;" Why would bunch of immigrants care about Jacques Cartier and Canadian history?». Conclusively, he related our own background that lay various part of the world, to this very dulling history. Therefore, remembering tidbits of Cartier, Maisonneuve, Cabot, was a easy as remembering ones own revolution; that has be counted to us by our parents, neighbours etc.. History was no longer dulling, it became personal, and became a very real part of my life and the lives of all the students in that class.

Where was I going with this? Yeah my eternal optimism stems from the fact that he utterly helped me change my perception of humanity, and its reoccurring circles, things that made me very much aware of the fact that as we live, I am reliving history, and somehow by teaching it to others, that would help us alter our vision of this world. Hence my optimism!!

Why do I love Montreal? Really its quite simple....it has the best of both worlds...You have the anonymity of a big city...the services of a big city....and the quaintness of a small town. Its pretty incredible that I can walk down the street and say hello to someone else without knowing them and the response isn’t an automatic... eyebrows arch, they either smile or respond “Bonjour”. There is no staggering aggressiveness and there are always line-ups at bus stops no pushing nor shoving, individuals helping ladies with baby carriages without being asked, if someone steps on your foot in the metro, they always stop and apologize, I always stand up for pregnant or old ladies in the bus/and or metro, and I’m not the only one. I can ask a police officer to give us directions, and not fret about walking about with my papers.....Christmas, Ramadan, Hanukkah, Kwanza, the Chinese New Year...are all celebrated on a grand level, to the point where...even big name restaurants have a Ramadan special...Chinese 7alal restaurants...WHERE else in the world do you see these things occur? I love it and when I travel it makes me appreciate it 10 million times more...

Finally why am I in love with the fact that I come from a mix background? I always wanted to belong somewhere when I was young you know? Belonging to 2 distinct ethnic backgrounds in Africa, isn’t usually a problem, I could adapt to both, and be accepted, but the fact of the matter is that my parents converted to Islam ( my father was Catholic, and my mother an adamant protestant) prior to my being birthed so my sense of belonging no where to be found. Their tribes rejected both me and my parents profusely. Then to add to the culture trauma, we moved to Canada and to find belonging my parents were my only point of reference.

But I've seen that not belonging to any ethnic group has made me belong to a group that surpasses the exclusivity of an ethnic and or cultural group. The group that I belong to, is that my Ummah... I love the fact that I know and love these people and belong to them because of their values and ethics. Those are the only things that bind us together...isn't that beautiful? One might ask why does this have anything to do with the fact that I come from two African countries, the reason is pretty simple, had I been part of only one ethnic group, my being Muslim wouldn’t have changed much, I would still be full blooded, but the Islam thing was the drop that drowned the vase. Therefore, instead of being forsaken for it, I love it, embrace it and hope to never part with it. With that, I’ve learned, 2 things, one that my parents sacrificed a lot for their beliefs, second that I shall never be alone, if I am Muslim, my Ummah, my Allah that is all I need to belong. Therefore I say with pride, that I will and should be more loyal to my fellow Muslim than to the territory within which I was born, I will please Allah dutifully Insh’Allah and that is all I seek in this world.

yours truly,

Jamz