28 February 2008

my brothers poem

My tears
What can I say,
I cry in dua,
I cry in salah,
I cry on unfinished musjid rooftops,
I cry for my sins,
I cry for hidaayat,
but in me last few days,
I mostly cry for an old lady,
with a young heart,
who has a very special place in my heart,
A woman who devoted her life to others more than herself,
A lady who not only cared for me as a child, but my mother as well,
Even in her old age, she cared for one and all,
So far away I am from her today,
yet so close to my heart she is held

I will cry
Is it that I cry,
due to fear of losing her,
or due to the distance today thatleaves me unable of paying to her what is her right,
I don’t know,
But what I do know,
is that I’ll never forget her,
for who she was,
for what she did for me,
For all the love she spread,
for all the wounds she healed,
I will cry in dua,
I will in salah,
I will cry no matter where I am,
I will cry for her,
every time I'm reminded of her,
every time I think of her,
I will cry for herwhether I see her again or not

My dua
But mostly I will cry in dua for her,
for my tears and neither my duas will do justice for what she has done for us,
and I beg of one and all,
that u never forget her nor what she has done for us,
But more importantly that you never stop making dua for her,
the dua that she so deserves from us all

© Muhammed Randeree

20 February 2008

Farewell Comrade Fidel, farewell!!

Farewell Comrade Fidel, farewell!!

Fidel Castro, struggle hero, inspirational leader of the poor and oppressed of the world, has stepped down as President of Cuba after almost 50 years of heroic leadership.

Under his leadership, Cuba has been a shining symbol of hope for the workers and poor people of the world. The government has consistently put the interests of the people first and proved to the world that national liberation, democracy and socialism are not just words in speeches but can become a living reality. He has proved that there is an alternative to the barbarism of capitalism and imperialism and has kept the banner of socialism flying high.

In a world in which monetarist capitalism is squeezing humanity to a pulp, where giant corporations are steadily making inroads to monopolise wealth and the means of production, Cuba stands out, proving that it is possible, with few resources and against tough sanctions, to construct a socially progressive model.

JP Morgan recently employed Tony Blair to advise the bank on the "political and economic changes that globalisation brings". The bank said he had a "unique perspective" and that he would advise the bank, "drawing on his immense international experience to provide the firm with strategic advice and insight on global political issues and emerging trends".

"Our firm will benefit greatly from his knowledge and experience," the bank said. Perhaps the banks and corporations of the world should consider seeking advice and direction Comrade Fidel, who certainly has a "unique perspective" and "immense international experience."

Viva Comrade Fidel Viva! Viva Cuba viva!

05 February 2008

Martyrs and reconciliation

by Na'eem Jeenah

Just over 14 years ago, at 5am on Monday January 17 1994, my mother was rudely woken by loud banging on the door of her tiny one-bedroom flat. She got out of bed, opened the door and was shoved aside as four policemen with R1 rifles stormed in and ransacked her home without giving her the courtesy of an explanation and without producing a search warrant.

They took a jacket and some documents. The leader of the gang of policemen, a Captain Bala Naidoo, then asked my mother to accompany him to the police station to talk to his commander. (Anyone who follows South African police news will immediately recognise the name “Bala Naidoo”, who is no longer a lowly captain.)

After being ushered into Naidoo’s car, my mother, shaken by the post-dawn intrusion, repeatedly asked him where he was taking her and why. He refused to answer. She persisted. Then, realising that my brother Mohseen had not been, as usual, sleeping in the lounge when she awoke, she asked Naidoo whether this trip had anything to do with Mohseen. He replied in the affirmative.

“Is he hurt?” she asked the policeman.

“Yes,” replied that protector of law and order.

Then, fearing the worst, she asked: “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” the heartless pig replied, proceeding to tell her that he was, in fact, taking her to the mortuary to identify her 21-year-old son’s body. When the car stopped at the next robot, she jumped out and ran the few blocks back to her flat. Thankfully, neither Naidoo nor his goons followed her. She got home, called my aunt and uncle who promised to come over immediately, and switched on the TV in an attempt to calm her nerves.

There, on the 6am news, she saw Mohseen’s body lying prone on a pavement in the middle of Durban’s CBD, an AK-47 parallel to his body, blood that had oozed from various parts of his body staining the concrete.

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