No amount of repetition will make it all any truer. We know reasons why the TFG is supported by some. But do carry on,,,,,,,

Originally posted by NGONGE: You've become like gaalada that have their christmas party in June, saaxib! Almost ten days left to the start of Ramadan. No need to rush with your best wishes. I like to be early with such things.

Do continue,,,,,, ps is there any truth in this story?

Who was killed, who was arrested and what for (proof?)?

How easy it has been for us,,,,,,, Bilal: The Sweet Caller to Islam By Idris Tawfiq In the history of Islam, there are heroes of faith, men and women whose lives inspire us to be better people, better Muslims. Many of them were Companions of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and they experienced the growth of Islam right from the beginning. Many of them suffered hardships and great persecution for the sake of Islam, the Message of Allah. Their impeccable characters and their closeness to Allah and His Prophet drew many people to Islam. One of the greatest of these, one of the most humble, and one who endured horrific torture in order to become Muslim was Bilal ibn Rabah. Born in Makkah, the freed Ethiopian slave after accepting Islam was inseparable from the Messenger himself. He became the Prophet's first muezzin (caller to the five daily Prayers). The persecution he suffered is enough to make us ashamed at our own feeble efforts at being Muslim. We talk about calling people to Islam, don't we? We preach others, when sometimes we cannot even get up to pray in the morning! The story of Bilal's life and journey to Islam teaches us to hold fast to the message of the Oneness of Allah and to defend the reputation of His Prophet with every breath we take and every action we perform. The precise details of Bilal's life are not what we are concerned with here, although a few highlights will help us. What is important, is to ask ourselves what Bilal's life has to teach us today. How can his call to Islam and subsequent life as a Muslim help us all to be better Muslims? Ethiopian Origins Bilal ibn Rabah was born the son of an Ethiopian slave called Rabah. Because of his black skin, he was sometimes known as Bilal Al-Habashi (the Ethiopian). As a boy, he was sold as a slave to Umayyah ibn Khalaf ibn Safwan, leading member of the Quraish, head of the Bani Jumah, and a fierce believer in idol worship. Not only did he believe in the worship of idols, but also believed that people worshipped idols according to the worshippers' dignity and social status. So he would worship an idol of gold, while his slave would worship an idol of wood or stone. Although Bilal was owned as a slave, it was his "master" who was the real slave. He was a slave of polytheism, that pernicious belief in many gods that held sway in the whole of the Arabian Peninsula at that time. When Prophet Muhammad began to preach the message of the Oneness of Allah (tawheed, in Arabic), many people in Makkah suffered when they chose to embrace Islam at the hands of the idol worshippers. Why is it that, even today, people feel threatened by goodness? Why was it that those idol worshippers did everything in their power to stop the spread of Islam, even though it was quite clear that these Muslims were good people who intended no harm to anyone? Bilal saw more and more people embrace Islam in Makkah and, as they did, more and more people suffered and were tortured at the hands of idol worshippers. Abu Jahl was an important man in Makkah, noted for his cruelty and his hatred of Islam. It came to the ears of Bilal that the parents of `Ammar ibn Yasir had been tortured on the rack and had died on the orders of Abu Jahl. Becoming Muslim Even though their son endured this torment and suffered persecution of his own, he refused to return to idol worship. Touched by such heroism, Bilal decided to visit the place where Muhammad was staying. Muhammad's words penetrated Bilal's heart and he became Muslim there and then. There was no musing over when the right time might be; no weighing up the pros and cons of what the consequences of declaring Shahadah would entail. Bilal saw that in this message he would find peace, the answer to his heart's desire. Almost immediately, it came to the ears of his master, Umayyah, that Bilal had been heard talking about the Oneness of Allah and the futility of worshipping idols. He was made to pay a heavy price. Umayyah had him, at first, dragged through the blistering hot sand in the hottest part of the day and pulled around the city by his neck by young children. Bilal's only response was to cry out "Ahad" (Allah is One). He was beaten, but to no avail. The worst was yet to come. With Bilal spread out on the burning sand, huge rocks were placed on his chest and stomach, almost squeezing life out of him, crushing his body and making it impossible to believe. None of it worked. Every time he was asked to renounce Islam and declare his belief once more in idols, he cried out, "Ahad. Ahad." Umayyah gave up the torture, leaving his slave almost dead. Who knows how many of the people of Makkah were drawn to Islam because of the suffering of this simple and gentle man? How many renounced idol worship because of his example? Bilal did not give any speeches, did not lead any da`wah-to-Islam workshops, and did not write books and pamphlets calling people to Islam. The witness of his life was enough. Bilal was bought from Umayyah by Abu Bakr who then Bilal set free. Islam had made him a free man. For the rest of his life, he devoted every breath in his body to serving the message of Islam and to being by the side of its Messenger. In fact, he became Muhammad's spear bearer and was at his side in war and peace. It was this spear that was used to point out the direction of prayer from 624 CE onwards.. There was one further distinction for Bilal. Not only was he never away from the side of Muhammad, but he was also chosen by Muhammad to be the first human being to make the Adhan (call to five daily Prayers) after it had been revealed in a dream to `Abdullah ibn Zaid, confirmed by `Umar, and then approved by Muhammad as being from Allah. Bilal was chosen as the prayer-caller because his voice was strong and also very sweet. He would go to the rooftop of the mosque in Madinah and call out the Adhan. Isn't the story of Bilal the story of every one who would be Muslim? His voice was strong and sweet, just as the message of Islam is strong and sweet. Islam needs no one's approval, and Muslims do not need to seek it from anyone. Islam is strong and has nothing to be ashamed of. It is also very sweet, not the caricature that is so often portrayed on television and in newspapers. The message of Islam is both beautiful and sweet. Bilal's story is proof of what Muhammad always taught: It is not social status or rank or education that makes one person better than another; it is piety. Those close to Allah are truly the best of people. Bilal had suffered for Islam in his body. He was humble and gentle, faithful and loyal. He was strong and yet when he called the Muslims to Prayer, they could weep out of joy, so sweet was the sound. By learning from all the heroes of our faith, we, like Bilal ibn Rabah, can draw others to Islam by the way we live, in sha' Allah. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Idris Tawfiq is a British writer who became Muslim a few years ago. Previously, he was head of religious education in different schools in the United Kingdom. Before embracing Islam, he was a Roman Catholic priest. He now lives in Egypt. For more information about him, visit www.idristawfiq.com.

^^You also have people who wear over-sized clothes :rolleyes:

Finding Islam: The Road Less Traveled By Sumayyah Meehan Freelance Writer I recall the day perfectly. It was the first week of December 1992. I was a sophomore in college and had just wrapped up my mid-term exams. I was excited that Christmas vacation would start in a couple of days. I had just enough time to pack up my belongings for the winter break and wrap a few gifts that I had bought for my roommate. As I put the last bow on the gifts, I just froze as a thought entered my head. And that thought was in the form of a question: If God is good, then how could He allow His only son Jesus to be crucified? This single question opened the floodgates for me. It literally took my breath away. I had to lie down on my bed to just breathe and collect my thoughts, which I was afraid, were blasphemous. I went down a virtual checklist of just how much I knew about Christianity and asked myself whether or not I really believed what I knew. What I learned is that I did not know much about my religion, and what I did know I questioned. As an infant, my parents baptized me a Christian. However, they were not very religious at all, and I can only remember attending church a handful of times in my life. The only time we even went to church was during the holidays. As a result, I always felt a deep void in my heart and I could not "feel" that God was in my life. I knew I had to take immediate action and "find" God. The winter break ended just as soon as it came. I headed back to college to complete the final semester before summer vacation. I knew this was the opportunity I had to explore my faith. Iset out on my quest the following Sunday. I attended a Catholic Mass at a church near my college. During the service, I did all I could to control my laughter. And the service was not supposed to be funny. I looked around me and everyone had serious looks on their faces and had their heads bowed. To me, the sermon sounded ridiculous as if it were something a father would say to a naughty child that would scare him into behaving. It was ridiculous and, unlike me, the other parishioners were swallowing it hook, line, and sinker! Why wasn't anyone asking questions or demanding the light of truth? I did not find God that day in church. My search continued. Over the course of the next several months, I continued my quest by visiting the churches of every single denomination Christianity has to offer. I attended a Presbyterian Church for a couple of weeks. Then moved on to the Lutheran, Baptist, Methodist, and so on. But again I found the sermons unconvincing and was just not buying what the preachers were selling. By this time, the void in my heart was all encompassing. I fell into a deep depression. I could not understand what was wrong with me. Was I an atheist? I did not think so since I did believe in a Higher Authority that created and ruled humankind. Was I in Satan's clutches? Certainly, I must be since I laughed at my own religion. I could not find answers to any of my questions and fell into a blackness that made me question every aspect of my life. Allah's light would not shine on me until almost a year later. In 1993, I met a man who just happened to be a Muslim. His name was Abid. I knew a little about Islam from high school. Surprisingly enough, we had learned about Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) in world history class. So, I could converse a little with Abid about Islam, and he taught me the basic principles of the Islamic belief. I was very skeptical at first. All I had ever heard about Muslims was bad. The media regularly portrayed Muslims as being terrorists and oppressing women. I believed what I saw on TV. At the same time, I was taking a class on "feminism," and the book we used for the class had a huge chapter that explicitly stated that women in Islam were treated like dogs and not allowed to pray in the mosque because they are considered to be impure. So, the first question I asked Abid was about how women are treated in Islam. His answer was that women are allowed to pray in mosques, but separate from the men because of piety and modesty issues for both of the sexes. He had captured my attention and made me rethink what I knew about Islam. Unfortunately, Abid was called back to his own country, Kuwait, to tend to his sick father. So, I was pretty much left on my own to discover Islam. However, I did keep in contact with Abid over the phone. We had several furious debates about Christianity and Islam. And then he challenged me. He dared me to go out and find a copy of the holy Qur'an and read it. I had never backed down from a challenge before, and this was no different. I accepted the challenge, not knowing that it would change my life forever. The challenge to find an English translation of the Qur'an was just that — a challenge. I was in a city with a church on just about every corner and a massive Christian bookstore downtown. There was nowhere to buy a copy of the Qur'an. I decided to search the college library. I typed the word "Qur'an" into the database and one single entry came back. And it was not even listed in the Theology section, which was really stunning. It was located in the Children's Book Section, which was pretty telling to me. I trekked down to the basement where the kid's books were located and found a dirty and ragged Qur'an between two fairytale books. That Qur'an had seen better days. It was not worn from devoted reading or interest. It was worn from sheer neglect and covered in dust. Regardless, I dusted it off and proceeded to check it out much to the amazement of the librarian who leered at me as I signed my name. As if I had committed a sin in her presence! I shoved the Qur'an in my backpack and made my way back to my dorm. Abid had given me strict instructions for cleanliness before touching the Qur'an, which seemed really strange to me. The Bible, in my home, was left on the coffee table to gather dust and get an occasional lick from our dog. It was not revered as the Qur'an is. His instructions were that I should perform an act called wudu' (ablution), which consisted of washing different parts of the body. For some reason, my mind was not wrapping around this idea. I kept telling him that I did not know how to perform "voodoo." Clearly, we were not on the same page! So, he told me to just take a shower before touching the Qur'an. After finishing my shower and dressing, I sat down at my desk with the Qur'an in hand. For some reason, I did not open it at page one but rather I opened it up somewhere in the center. And this is the very first ayah (verse of Qur'an) that I read: [We have enjoined on man kindness to his parents; in pain did his mother bear him, and in pain did she give him birth.] (Al-Ahqaf 46:15) I was stunned. What a wonderful thing to read. I flipped through the pages, and everything I read brought a smile to my face. After reading a lot more over the course of several days, I was absolutely flabbergasted with my findings. Moses and Noah were in the Qur'an, and so were Jesus and his mother Mary! And the Qur'an gave a lot more detail, in regards to historical events, than the Bible did. As I read and read, I felt my heart soaring. I felt I was on the right path to finding Allah and knowing Him. However, my quest was interrupted due to problems with my family, finishing my studies and the fact that Abid, my only teacher, was remaining in his country for an unspecified time. The feeling of loss and hopelessness once again overwhelmed me. So, I put my interest in Islam on the backburner. It was only the sheer grace of Allah that led me back to Islam in 1995. I had continued to keep in contact with Abid during his stay in his country. One day he asked me to marry him over the phone and I agreed even though I was still Christian. I was committed to learning more about Islam but had no way of knowing if I would be able to accept this new religion. After our marriage, we moved to Kuwait, which is where his family was based. I took the Shahadah in 1996. The tears of thankfulness to Allah overwhelmed me as I stood in the mosque surrounded by Muslim sisters. I could not stop crying. I felt that Allah had plucked me out of a life of disbelief, that He saved me from a meaningless existence and a life of reckless abandon. However, the story does not end there. I was now a Muslim, but I had very limited knowledge of Islam. No one in my newfound family spoke enough English to teach me how to pray and the Islamic books in English were scarce. I was a Muslim, but I was unable to practice my beliefs. It was very discouraging. Everyone kept telling me that it was OK and I would not be held accountable for not knowing how to pray or fast. But, while that is true, Muslims are supposed to strive for knowledge and seek it out. My problem was that I did not know where to look. I felt my Islam slipping away again, but Allah, in His infinite wisdom, pulled me back again for the third time! It was exactly 4 a.m. in the morning during the summer of 1999. I was pacing my apartment because I just felt restless. The phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I knew something was wrong. It was my sister calling from Connecticut. The news was bad. Not only had my grandmother died, but she had been brutally strangled to death by a handyman who had known her for over 15 years. I was shattered. My grandmother was the most important person to me. I did not know how to cope. Over the next few days, I just cried myself sick. All the while I had my eyes fixated on the English translation of the Qur'an that I had on top of my cupboard. I had never opened it once since the sisters gave it to me when I took the Shahadah at the mosque. I felt like a failure as a Muslim because of the language barrier and because of not knowing how to pray, so I even ignored the Qur'an in my own language. But something was different. All the days I spent crying in my room because of the loss of my grandmother, I felt like the Qur'an was beckoning me to read it. I was drawn to it. So, after two solid weeks of mourning, I began reading the Qur'an once again. But this time I would not leave it sitting around unused, rather I read the entire Qur'an from cover to cover over the course of a few months. Armed with the knowledge of the Qur'an, I sought out ways to perfect my Islam. I finally bought a computer, got hooked up to the Internet, and found a plethora of Islamic knowledge at my fingertips. A sister in Saudi Arabia taught me how to pray via e-mail. And whenever I had a question, I would visit an Islamic forum to find the answer. It has been almost 11 years since I converted to Islam. The student has now become the teacher. I am a writer. I write about Islam in various newspapers and magazines in different countries. I can only wonder if my articles are being clipped and saved in a book that will help teach others about Islam. In sha' Allah they are as I come full circle. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sumayyah Meehanreverted to Islam almost 11 years ago. She is a Waynesburg College graduate with a BA in criminal justice. She is working on an Islamic children's book. She resides in Kuwait with her husband and three children. Source

Staying up until it hits you (usually just before Fajr) is the only option. A couple of hours sleep then an early night.

Spare a thought (and a few pennies if possible) for others less fortunte this ramadan. Send your zakaat early! Is Ramadan Coming? Somalis Ask By Abdul-Rahman Yusuf, IOL Correspondent MOGADISHU — Deserted markets, no fund-raising, no aid baskets are the new features of Somalia's preparations, or rather lack thereof, for the fast-approaching holy fasting month of Ramadan. "There are no preparations for Ramadan as if the holy month is not around the corner," Abdel Rahman Mohammad, a merchant, told IslamOnline.net. Bakara, the once bustling central market place in the capital Mogadishu, has been almost deserted. "Sales have hit all time low this year," he said. "People don't dare to venture out of their home to shop." Six civilians were killed and nearly a dozen wounded Wednesday, September 5, in fighting that erupted in the Bakara market between government forces and militants. The seaside capital has been ravaged by violence since Ethiopian and Somali troops ousted the Islamic Court that controlled large parts of the country early this year. It has plunged into a deadly vicious cycle of violence which has so far killed up to 1,300 civilians and displaced more than 400,000, according to Human Rights Watch. Somalia has lacked an effective government since the 1991 ouster of president Mohamed Siad Barre touched off a deadly power struggle that has defied numerous attempts to restore peace. No Charities With the officials of the major charities either in jail or on the run, being accused of affiliation with the ousted Islamic Courts, Somalis have very little hope of getting Ramadan aid. "We will not offer this year the traditional iftar tables to poor Somalis," said Mokhtar Sheikh Hassan, the director of an orphanage in Mogadishu. "Our orphanage has been shut down after the Ethiopian troops positioned themselves nearby," he added with a heavy heart. Khaled Mohammad takes pity on his poor countrymen. "They will be the hardest hit during Ramadan because charities have vanished," he said. "With a few days to go, there is not the slightest semblance of charity in the capital." The incumbent government has cracked down on charities and arrested some of its directors. These charities were working diligently to provide for the needy in one of the world's poorest and least developed countries. "They were the lifeline for many people," noted Mohammad Ahmad, a local aid official. "Now things are getting worse for a sea of poor people, who badly need assistance." After more than 15 years of unrest, Somalis tasted tranquility and peace in Ramadan of last year after the Islamic Courts defeated US-backed warlords. They revived the good old days, huddling together round the iftar meal and Tarawih prayers. Women walked safely at the beehive-like marketplace, while children enjoyed themselves on the festooned streets. "Last year, I used to have my iftar from an Islamic Courts charity, which is now closed," said Fatima Ali, a mother of four. "Many of these charities and aid agencies have taken to their heels," she lamented. "How can this large number of poor and needy Somalis survive during Ramadan for God's sake?" A response By Muslimah - Europe on 2007-09-05 14:09 (GMT) I just came back from shopping and read this. My tears burst out thinking about the money I just spent for food whereas out there my Muslim brothers and sisters suffer in hunger. I immediately donated some through Islamic Relief, remembering how generous Rasulullah salallahu 'alaihi wa salam was in the month of Ramadan. Hope this will encourage other Muslims who are fortunate to donate for our Muslim brothers and sisters in Somali and other deprived countries. Start the spirit of Ramadan now! Source

^^Its not being xaasid saxib. Staying up until sleep smakc you in the face s the best bet. Then get up after 3 hours. No more insomnia,,,,

XalimoP, just dont sleep! End of problem,,,,,

Ramadan Kariim ya ikhwaan wa ikhwaat al kariim. My ramadan gift to you all. orders a big fat juicy mixed grill kebab with humous :cool:

Originally posted by NGONGE: ^^ Do some hoovering or something.

^^The issue of college/uni comes into play here. These guys get scholarships right? From the streets to preppie school to a millionaire and sports star. All without actually 'educated'!

^^Saxib you asked for an opinion right?

^^NG fancied himself as a striker but he did everything apart from put the ball in the back of net! As soon he got the ball the birds in the trees behind the goal would cowar. 'Shimbiro laaye' was his name

I Will go to Jubba hotel and ask about this Muufo. Hope I dont get laughed at :confused:

^^Like what?

The TFG have killed and are continuing to kill Muslims. So are the Ethios. You support both the above actions. Yet you sit here stating the ICU was such and such an outfit who did this and did that etc without any proof. Give me a break mate.

^^The Arabs today ask: 'Min ween'? (usually when they realise I'm butchering the language). Then (when you have answered you are 'Somali') they ask 'Somali Muqdisho or Somali Hargaisa'? Small steps but we will get there

Trains, strikes, bikes, handbags, hot buns, Arthur Skargill and Maggie Thatcher! Adunyo! :rolleyes:

PS. I dont believe everyword people tell me. For instance, I dont think that you are good football player...so there LoL, I need not dispute. Ngonge will vouch for me (never seen him doing any sort of sport)

"This is not a pet, this is my son. Please get that right," she insists. "I did not have a son. God finally gave me one," says Namita, as she continued to breastfeed the monkey. Not to be ridiculed you say? Hindus and their respect for animals tends to go a little too far for my liking hence why I made that comment.

^^ Your word,,, 2. Al-Shabaab is a takfiri movement of murdereres and killers, who kill people indiscriminatly without any political purpose or consideration or any other useful political or religious goal. They kill for killings sake. 5. takfeer is a process of declaring someone a unbeliever for simply making 'mistakes' or sins in other words it is used to justify the killing of a muslim who has 'sinned' without the necessary jurisdiction in place by private people and pseudo religious groups with little religious training .

^^Why a racer? a mountain bike would be in London no?