Once Upon A Time During Ramadan

As far back as I can remember, I woke up one day in a home where my grandmother was a staunch Muslim. Yes, I, the writer was Muslim and so were my brothers and mom. My Muslim name was Farooq and I still have relatives who are practicing Islam.

My greatest recollections of childhood, involve me spending time with my Protestant father and Muslim grandmother. I was her favourite grandchild. She called me Festnate. This she did in her labour to call me by the pet name Fortunate which I had been given alongside my other very many names. She could not get her tongue around the name Fortunate, hence the Fesnate. I did not mind.

What I remember, which I have constantly shared with my friends is the fact that, with dad, I was a faithful Anglican. Then, whenever I was with my grandmother, I was the dedicated Muslim, often waking up early to say my prayers with her. This and other things including going for Juma and lessons for Arabic. I have long forgotten these rituals except "As-Salaam-Alaikum," which I can still say to wish peace upon you.

So, "As-Salaam-Alaikum." I hope you have learned or at least heard someone say the reply. If you have not, well, the reply is, “Wa alaikum assalam wa rahmatu Allah." Or, "wa `alaykumu s-salāmu wa rahmatu l-lāhi wa barakātuh," meaning "may peace, mercy and blessings of Allah be upon you." I loved the greeting. So if you see me with my “entalabusi” don’t be overly offended. But, I guess I cannot do that lest I stumble some.

About my Ramadan memories, I remember that during this period, all the relatives in our village would gather funds and purchase sacks of rice, just a bit of Posho (Maize flour), Matooke, which would be purchased on an almost daily basis. The breaking of the fast involved, Palau, beef stew, vegetables, and very thick juice.

Being the young Muslim enthusiast I was, I often woke up together with everyone for “Daako.” And daily convinced my grandmother that I would survive during the day without breaking the fast. Oh….but, did I ever manage to stay without food beyond ten o’clock? Before 11 a.m, I often would have cried to grand mom that I was beyond yield point and would drop dead if she did not ask the house help to make me something to eat. Since the law for Ramadan allowed the exempting of children from fasting, she would willingly allow me break my fast early.

When evening came, I with a few of my cousins would of course still be a part of the sumptuous Muslim meal. In fact, in my adulthood, I still believe that the best cooks are Muslim. That food must have had a lasting impression. And if you are my Muslim friend, please do invite me over, I will be grateful.

Oh my goodness, it is getting late. Let me retire. I’m out.