The Anointing | Freda KoomsonFor a time during my adolescence, I considered conversion to Islam
The Anointing | Freda KoomsonFor a time during my adolescence, I considered conversion to Islam. The project of discovering myself almost mandated it. When my first cousins arrived from war-torn Liberia in the Fall of 1997, I was starting a new school, in a new world and perhaps I was clinging desperately to some foundational aspects of my being and enthusiastically proclaimed to my cousin that I wanted to study the Koran like he had. I recall peeling my eyes open sleepily at the crack of dawn, realizing my cousin had left the bottom bunk mattress we shared, snoozing as I watched my eldest cousin bend in prostration, wipe her face with both palms and open and close her hands repeatedly to the ceiling slowly catching the blessings showering her from above. Blessings that poured in through the dark morning air, penetrating our 20 floor housing building, and piercing the air molecules of our room.My desire to convert to Islam was no doubt made more attractive by this intimate personal daily engagement I was privy to, which beat the Christianity my stepfather had decided to force feed us every Sunday morning. “We’re going to Church!” he would exclaim and the dread crept up even faster if the car wasn’t working (it often wasn’t) and church meant a 20 minute bus ride to a 40 minute train ride. Church, at all costs. In fact my mom’s excuses to not join us varied from wanting to have food ready for us when we returned from church (who could argue with that?), to declarations that she was “Muslim!” despite the folded up prayer mat that I had never seen her use.Read more on Ezibota.comConnect with us: Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Google + | Youtube -- source link
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