Displaced: A Sense of Humanity

My lovely readers,

Whilst my usual posts cover the likes of inspirational looks from red carpets and inane ramblings, today I have something I would like to share with you. 

I have in fact written of my opinions regarding the issues in countries such as Syria here. However, late last night as I sat in bed, for once in my life I didn't ponder the amount of calories I had consumed that day, nor did I imagine my life as Sandra Sully featuring an ethnic last name. 

I was frustrated with the world wide coverage of events that have taken place over the past few days. At this stage, I think I had consumed way too much chocolate too, so I turned to my other vice, writing. 

Please see my piece below. 

"Mariah once sang there's got to be a way, MJ taught us that we are the world, and Whitney, Whitney insisted the children are our future. 

But what sort of a future will our children hold when we're all lacking a sense of humanity. 

Humble is just a word my mother used to whisper. Power and greed has once again taken over. 

Here we are complaining about consuming too much food, when on the other side of the world we have children starving from hunger, hoping just to see another day. What good is this so called war? What is their agenda? 

Adjust your lenses, you will be surprised with what you'll see 

There are people mourning  sisters, mothers, friends and lovers. Who is right and who is wrong can't  be determined just yet, but emotional crippling for generations to come,  that can be guaranteed.

Once again I ask of you,  where is this sense of humanity?

God is great, they chant, but these terrorists know no God, for they are driven by none other than the devil. 

We have governments claiming peaceful interventions. But a peaceful mission is not so,  as they enter foreign lands they do not know. 

They claim a humble leader is a dictator. If only the arrogance could subside, they will see they're  in fact just looking into a polished mirror. I just hope their heavy investments in barbaric creatures doesn't grow greater, greater than them, for then we will meet for world war three. 

You know, they say Hitler was cruel, but they show no difference in their actions. Sure they appear to be family lovers, these men in their crisply ironed suits, they're also impeccable speech givers. The truth though, it shall prevail,  contributing to the same form of genocide that struck so many years ago.  

As a final departure, I say, dear friends, friends of religion, friends of culture, friends of humanity, open your eyes. 

Though, once you do, please be warned, because funnily enough should you question any of the given information, you'll be labelled a conspiracist.

 But conspiracies aren't of interest, well not for this young lass. I may not be a celebrity, but  I hope you can be inspired, for my only aim in this life is to broaden a slight sense of humanity."

Vent over. My heart goes out to every wronged person. I hope you can appreciate my reasonings for writing such a heartfelt piece and relish in the fact that somewhere out there's someone who doesnt get to experience a "Happy Friday." 

So folks! Despite getting on a dodgy train or having to get through a dreadful winter's day, thank your lucky stars because your sisters and brothers in humanity would give anything to trade their places with you. 

Wogarella, 

Xx

An Honest Depiction of What Ramadan and Eid El Fitr Mean to Me

As Ramadan almost wraps up, millions of Muslim’s around the world will be preparing sweets in anticipation of Eid Al Fitr. As a child some of my fondest memories include sitting beside my mum on the dining table watching her form perfectly baked Maamoul and Seewa biscuits in celebration of the holiday to mark the end of Ramadan. For those who didn’t grow up in my Wogarella household during that last week of Ramadan, it means I got to witness my mother and older sisters take spring-cleaning to a whole new level. Every curtain was to be washed, every window seal wiped and every glass window shining bright, well you guessed it- like a diamond. It has been a long-standing tradition that as we break our fast each night and purify our body, we must do the same for our surroundings and ensure a clean and pure environment. Let’s just say that if you live in an area that’s highly populated with Muslim’s then you’re lucky to find a bottle of Windex left in the cleaning isle at Woolies.



Cleaning aside, the week before Eid meant and still does mean, I, along with my whole family get to taste the aforementioned scrumptious biscuits. To be quite honest, we usually double-check and taste test again purely because my mum’s handmade variety of semolina based biscuits stuffed with either dates, pistachios, and walnuts always have our mouths watering. Now, let me tell you, these high in butter, sugar, and everything that’s bad-for-you-but-tastes-amazing-nonetheless treats, filled the whole house with a warm aroma of rose water and lemon scented sugar syrup that will always remind me of this time of year.

Traditional Maamoul Bsicuits

I’ve always enjoyed fasting, from sunrise to sunset. I’ve never been much of a fan of the 4am wakeup call for breakfast before the sun goes up, so I usually skipped it and rode it out like a tough cookie and stuffed my face once the sun had come down. This year though, it was a little different, this year I was cursed with a horrid virus, followed by an injury which meant I would have to break my fast for the rest of Ramadan as my doctor has ordered me to consume a cocktail of pills/Syrups during the last two weeks of the Holy Month.


As many of you already know, anyone who falls ill or carries a pensioner’s card is excused from fasting and encouraged to instead donate a desired amount of money (for each day missed throughout the holy month) to a chosen charity or those whom are less fortunate.


This month I hope to send off my hard earned cash to people who can probably count the amount of times they have eaten pistachios or walnuts on one hand.



Now before I conclude this piece, I would like to share this video with you. Whilst it doesn’t have anything to do with my mother’s cholesterol infested biscuits, it showcases the true struggle of an innocent human being. I am by no means a Muslim spokesperson, simply a moderate Muslim girl growing up in Sydney who loves Miley Cyrus’ new song as much as the next person. However, as a girl with Muslim parents who have instilled strong values in me which are constantly being challenged and exercised, it pains me to see a girl only a few years older than my niece suffering so much due to the own fault of her parents who claim to be “Muslims”.


The video, for those who are wondering showcases a brave speech by 11-year-old Nada Al-Ahdal from Yemen, who ran away from home due to being forced into marriage by her parents.

It’s confronting isn’t it? I write this to you, because I know Muslims are often viewed in a negative light, some of which I admittedly believe deserve it because they’re extremists who prefer to hide behind one verse in a holy book, murder innocent civilians and claim they’re faithful. But this one is for all of the Muslim’s out there who don’t have a bad bone in their body. I wish you and your families “Eid Mubarak,” or “Happy Eid” for our more westernised Muslims.







Wogarella,



Xx


*Photo Sourced from my Auntie's iPhone as my mother is yet to send me a pic!