“You cannot escape the responsibility of
tomorrow by evading it today.”
Abraham Lincoln
I walk out of my house greeted by a huge bright full moon. The chill fall air teases its way around my body and tickles the back of my neck as I shiver from its touch.”
A T-shirt is not enough” I think to myself as I pull on my hoodie and snuggle into the soft cotton. I’m surprised to hear shouting in the distance, as if there was a football match. The stadium is too far to be heard. Besides, I thought the season is still a few months away. The cacophony gets louder and more frenzied and the man begins shouting with anger, fury, and a twist of mournful sadness as his voice rises and falls in the cold autumn wind. “Oh, it’s just a mosque in the village” I mumble to myself as I step towards my car. I drive towards the petrol station and discover the village transformed into a festival of sorts, but not a happy one. I’m surrounded by black flags and images of a man being killed quite violently. I see blood, mannequins, and war scenes all around me. Some pretty graphic stuff for children and I wonder how they got permission to be erected. Coloured flags of war don the roofs of houses in defiance, challenging the legitimacy of my country and I wonder how much is too much.
I grew up with the beautiful sounds of Islam surrounding me. Gorgeous voices announcing daybreak, and mournful lullabies crooning it back to sleep at dusk. A final hurrah as we face the darkness and hope to see the light again. Each mosque beautiful in its own way, with its own congregation from the community meeting and tightening bonds as they pray. Children inevitably playing football in the mosque parking lots and joining each prayer acting like men. These mosques have charity work around the year and feed the hungry during Ramadan. They would be packed during Eid prayers and never be empty for a day, let alone an hour. Truly a shelter for any man, and a pillar of the community. True to their purpose: They would spread love, tolerance, and peace to their communities. Well, most of them anyway.
I’m not sure where the preachers learn to preach, but I know that they must now get accredited by the Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs and are monitored closely. I think they still need to be watched closer. The educated speak in a calm voice, using logic and reason as their tools. They allow their words to do the fighting for them, and don’t need to raise their tone to arouse feeling or emotion. The extremist preachers shout and scream in a way that stirs the blood no matter who the audience. They manipulate the airwaves in such a way that any listener gets scared and confused about the future of their soul. Their voices go up and down threatening people with hell and the devil. Other manipulators cry over the death of someone a thousand years ago. Children are often panicked and grow up with a sense of guilt and anger: And that’s where the danger is. The youth are excitable, vulnerable, and gullible; and can easily be trapped as pawns in some dangerous games. Maybe we should allow them the option to choose exposure to their faith as opposed to them being forced into it.
Maybe they don’t have to be bombarded by loudspeakers. Maybe they don’t have to see it in the streets all the time. Maybe we can think about keeping religion where it belongs; in the places of worship. What is this barbaric belief that clerics’ versions of Islam should be rammed down the throats of the community? If they are peaceful, happy, loving signs then there is no problem. My problem is with the undertone of violence in the speeches and images in these areas.
Secondly, maybe we can focus on building these children and expanding their horizons? Maybe they can be busy with bettering themselves using science, innovation, sports, or even starting their own little businesses. If they are busy working on themselves, they won’t heed the calls of mad men. There are many amazing programmes that can occupy the youth today and we are all working together to build the future generation. Maybe it would help if we can nudge the fanatics back a little. Maybe we can open minds instead of close them. Let’s aim forward, so we don’t get stuck in the trap of the past.