Voice of British Muslim Women

Iffat Mirza, Raynes Park

There’s much to be said about human nature. Every society has built up extensive conversations and discourses surrounding what it means to be human and what humanity means to us. I don’t pretend to be able to add much, or anything at all, to the conversation. But one thing that has never escaped me is how beautiful  is the desire for us to be happy. We seek it everywhere and when we might not find it, we find reasons to create it. It is an integral part of having a cohesive society, one or a few days a year where communities collectively celebrate is a real illustration of the best of human nature, in my eyes.

The tricky thing, though, is finding the right sort of happiness and the sort that is genuinely fulfilling rather than momentarily satisfying. It’s easy to be allured by the glittering visages of certain activities or celebrations. So, amongst all this noise, I suppose it is worthwhile considering why we celebrate and in doing so, how should one celebrate that fulfils the soul.

A formative, and rather repetitive, moment was for me was almost every year at school around the Christmas period peers would be shocked to hear that I did not celebrate and would immediately ask me ‘so you don’t get any presents?’ Though I’d explain that as a Muslim I celebrate Eid and there’s plenty of gift giving opportunity there, it did bother me slightly that celebration was synonymous to presents. Though gift giving is a beautiful tradition, it can very easily be reduced to material desire and thus the beauty of celebration can turn into an excuse to amass material possessions. This sort of experience did certainly trigger the question in my mind ‘what does it mean to celebrate?’

And it’s something I’ve been thinking about more as the Lajna Centenary is here and we as Ahmadi Muslim women are coming together to celebrate the completion of 100 years since the establishment of the Women’s Auxiliary Organisation. I think what I find amazing is that at the heart of all of this celebration is the consistent reminder that if there is anything to celebrate it is purely God’s compassion and blessings that He has bestowed upon us.

Last month, on 25^th December – the actual day of the centenary – Lajna in the UK were told to offer voluntary Prayers in the very early hours of the morning at the mosque and to observe a fast that day as a way to show gratitude to Allah the Almighty. Rather than to see the day as a way to spend frivolously or engage in meaningless parties, the celebration took form in humility before Allah the Almighty as a means to thank Him for a blessed 100 years and to pray for His continuous blessings upon the organisation and its members.

This is not to say that other ways of celebrating, including get togethers, are not right. Indeed, they are also on the agenda for the centenary celebrations, but it is the ultimate message that at its very core, this is a moment of gratitude above all else. So even at these events, prayer and remembrance of God is the foundation.

Further, markers of this auspicious event include the construction of a fully functioning maternity hospital in Sierra Leone – as an act to display international solidarity for women, as well as a pledge to plant 100,000 trees across the United Kingdom as an act of helping the nation do its bit in the face of the climate crisis. These acts of service towards the environment and humanity are a matter of addressing the concept of ‘Huqooqul Ibad’ – that is, serving creation. This tenet of Islam is fundamental to being a Muslim. The idea of serving the other creations of God at the time of celebration reminds us of the real reason one can and should celebrate.

The ultimate purpose for celebration is to bring together communities. There is a common reason to be happy and to share that joy amongst ourselves. This can only be done when we remember our Creator and the need to show gratitude to Him and to those around us. Without such gratitude and remembrance our celebrations become somewhat hollow and fleeting. They become a chore – we simply feel as though we have to be happy, rather than actually be. Such is the beauty of Islamic teachings. Nothing is without reason.