Growing up as a muslim

The second of 2 girls, I was born into a muslim family and I guess it will be appropriate to say we were liberal and non-practicing muslims. When my parents began to encourage us to participate in certain activities, I am not certain if it was to be evidence for our spirituality and religious beliefs or maybe it was for social networking purposes, I really can't say.

We would join in the fasting exercise and even joined others in the breaking of fast/prayers in the evening in our local mosque. It was one of the highlights of my day, not that I abstained from food all day but it was just fun having an opportunity to mingle and prank with other kids.

I was initially amazed when I discovered that when you visit the mosque and since you had to go in without any footwear, there were high tendencies for you to have to return home without them. I couldn't really understand what happened especially because in most cases, you end up with one of the pairs while the other would be lost in the diaspora. Can't tell if it was just some kids pranking or actual theft but some people had to hold tightly to their shoes as they go into the prayer house. I found this to be really amusing and I can't really remember now if I joined in the pranking.

I do remember when my dad considered having us learn how to recite the "quran" (islam's sacred book). He wasn't going to have his kids subjected to the acts of the "alfas" (muslim cleric) at the learning centers so he had to arrange for a home tutor. I can't count the number we had but looking back, I am sure I got all of them frustrated, some with my dad's help. I think the last one we had who was eager and certain that he was going to make me a success in the recitation was the most frustrated of them all.

So let me paint this right. My sister and I were the students and we started together from the very beginning on the same day but somehow, I didnt go pass the first couple of pages in my recitation while my sister, an excellent student was actually progressing with hers till the point where she was going to have her "wolimo" (islamic or quran graduation). I mean after a while, it was just unbelievable, even to me.To think that I had started the journey with my sister. I couldn't even explain it and neither can I now except that I must have suffered some disruption or something.

But it wasn't completely my fault!

My mom had a tradition of making sumptuous meals with creamy hot chocolate (milo) on Saturday mornings and of course, she had to make for the alfas as well as they come in for the lessons. The last alfa must have gotten really familiar with the Saturday meals and the hot chocolate such that he would have us recite the quran while he dosed off after having his meal.

Being a daddy's girl, I let my dad in on this so he would sneak to the door once he hears our recitation and make faces at me to get me laughing. I would usually start out giggling and sometimes the alfa would wake up and chastise me for being such an unserious scholar of the quran and then he would go back to sleep. My dad would reappear at the door, continue making faces and I would laugh until the alfa would get so upset wondering what kind of child I was.

And then guess what, when its time for him to leave, my dad would come around with a straight face and ask about our performance. It was the same old story of how unserious I was and my dad with a serious and sad face would say "oh I just don't know what else to do to help this child" and the alfa was always quick to tell my dad not to worry that I'd come around and then he would take his leave.

I was certain he was only coming back for the meals, and not to help me.

My dad and I always had a good laugh until eventually he stopped coming and that was the last of me learning the quran.