Wednesday, March 08, 2006


Assalamualaikum w.b.t.

Last Friday night was our very own Friday night party – Sisters’ Night, as organized by MUIS in the campus musolla (in Malay, ‘surau’, or as the locals call it, ‘mosque’). We all went there in anticipation of free food (less time in the kitchen!) and to meet local sisters. Instead, it turned out to be more of a Malaysian welcome for the influx of students from Malaysia. Still, it was definitely enjoyable. It was informal, and warm and cosy, plus the food was really, really good. I wish to learn to make pasta like they can.

But I digress, as I wantonly do.

There were three speeches, made by regulars in the musolla, as I have learnt from observation. Each gave a speech with an underlying current: the unity of the ummah, and living as a minority in a foreign land. Still, all three presented in their own way their experiences and added little anecdotes of their life here so far, and when placed side by side, they all made up for a very inspirational evening.

The first speaker was Sister Saraa, a Syrian-Australian (or is it better the other way around?), and a key dakwah figure in Melbourne. She was very sweet, and some of her first words were in praise of Malaysia. The way she said it made home seem better; nicer, more welcoming, more worthy of my love for it. That in itself was enough to make me choke up. And she hadn’t even begun her speech yet.

She spoke of how we as Muslims have fallen to separating ourselves from the rest of the world (please note my half-sleepy attempt at paraphrasing). She spoke of segregation in our own subconscious regarding the rest of the world; how we feel that because we have received the message of Allah, and because we know that Allah is on our side, we look down on – as I often see phrased in various English articles and translations of the Quran – the unbelievers; the kafirun. Sister Saraa said that the key to becoming a Muslim is to look upon others, and always feel in your heart that you are inferior to them. By being humble, we open our selves and our hearts to others, and we refrain from straying from the teachings of Rasulullah (peace be upon him). Also, she said, how were we to know how they would end up at the end of their life? Whether or not they would be in Allah’s favour when they leave this world is not something we have a right to predetermine. Wallahu’alam.

That point really struck me, as I have, admittedly, begun building this sense of feeling slightly superior to the people around me (more specifically, the non-Muslims), to counteract the tinge of fear and cautiousness that I feel whenever I stray outside the College Square community. I sat there, listening to Sister Saraa and felt a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. I had acted in a shameful way. I had thought less of others, and in a way, degraded myself beyond their level. And my gratitude lay in the fact that Allah had chosen for me to attend the Sisters’ Night. It was as if every word Sis Saraa spoke referred to me; almost as if it was directed to me.

Sister Saraa also reminded us that the best way to live as a Muslim is simply to live Islam in every single way. The other Malaysian sisters have mentioned this to us. Presenting a proper example of Islam is a form of dakwah, and as Sister Lyn said, you would be surprised at how easy it is to be a Muslim in a land which is not yours.

Sis Saraa warned us of the temptations that lay ahead. The deterioration of ummah unity and the degradation of morality seemed to have evolved at almost the same time, resulting in some very trying times ahead. “Sins are presented to you on a silver platter,” she said (if I can quote her correctly). “And so that is my greatest fear for you. Because – don’t get me wrong – I trust you. I trust your soul. But I do not trust your nafs. Just the same way I do not trust my own nafs.”

It should be noted that nafs is how Malay got the word ‘nafsu’, and the commonness of the word in my mother tongue (literally, is it not?) sort of denies the strength of its threat, in all actuality. Alhamdulillah, living in a foreign country has given me a test of the nafs many, many times, and I now know my capabilities, and the extent of my strengths.

Part of the struggle, I’ve realized, is due to feeling estranged and different. It is definitely very easy to fall into the trap of wanting to belong. I have felt the lure (I still feel it, in fact) of the Nano iPod countless times, and I haven’t even been here for a month. It’s a common commodity; everybody owns one. And yet again, is it really necessary? I know for a fact that I don’t have ears enough to listen to all the MP3s a Nano can store. So what do I really need it for?

Resisting temptation is only half the battle won.

Next, Sister Nik Natasha spoke of her experiences in Melbourne. Being a 4th year student of medicine, she has seen many, many things, and said that she had a deeper sense of faith and a stronger hold of her religion. She told us that as Muslims, we were to hold strong to our beliefs, as we are the living, breathing, working examples of God’s divine words. To emphasize what Kak Lyn explained just the night before, she added that were we to give in to the unbelievers’ test of our faith and conviction, we might feel as if we are excepted, but at the price: we shall lose their respect in us.

And finally, there was Sister Rayyan, who is a displaced Malaysian, who has called Melbourne ‘home’, after she and her family migrated when she was really young. I’ve been told that she’s an active member of the Islamic Council of Victoria, and that she is a third year law student at Melbourne University. Her major shows in the fibre of her every being. She spoke to us on the importance of wanting to make a difference for the ummah – the importance of us wanting to take a stand in something we believe in. she described to us how the Taliban movement began: when two Islamic scholars decided that the atrocities that surrounded them had to end, when they witnessed a fight between over two tribe leaders over who had the right to sodomize a boy. And while she said that it did not justify the extent of the severity of rule in Afghanistan, she stressed that they had waited until the morality of the nation had reached its breaking point. When the time came, they had acted upon the best interest.

So I guess the question trying to be said is this: Should we, the youth, empowered with knowledge, wait until the world’s empathy and sense of probity reaches its ultimate low, before we begin to fight against the atrophy of demoralization?

Well, it definitely gives you something to think about, innit?

As we made our way home, we were greeted by a random gentleman, who was coming out of his car with his girlfriend at a parking lot opposite the university walkway. He said, “Hi girls!” in a rather jolly manner, though he seemed sober enough. He took a look at the plates laden with leftovers in our hands and said, “Came back from a party?” (Although it should be said that as his accent was rather thick, as with the case of most Aussie anecdotes, we only realized that he wasn’t speaking some foreign tongue like, ten minutes after he had left).

Come to think of it, we were at a somewhat party. But it was the best kind.

Wassalam.

this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 7:55 am

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