Internship 2017

Life Updates

This summer I’ve had the privilege of working as an intern for the very first time. I still can’t quite believe just how lucky I got, bagging myself an internship in my first year of university (perks of studying at Reading!).

The company I work for are based in central London, and they work with the top universities in London. My role is working as a Media Coordinator for the company, which is many ways perfect considering social media is my forte. Being in charge of Instagram, Twitter and Facebook for the company in addition to visiting these universities, talking to students and scientists, and creating case studies for the students has been a rollercoaster of excitement and adrenaline, and 100% worth it.

The best part of this internship, however, is the people I’ve worked with. The environment is based on putting the staff first, being as flexible as possible for them, and making sure they are happy in the workplace. These are contacts I can honestly say I would love to keep for the future.

The skills I’ve acquired are also incredible. After working in retail for two years, I was desperately craving the taste of a degree-related job. The friends I’ve made working in retail, I’ve made for life and whilst I appreciate the somewhat relaxed attitude towards working in the fashion-retail industry, it became tedious. Folding shirts everyday and analysing stock reports is alright but I wasn’t challenging myself in any way. I was physically drained after spending 8 hours on my feet, but this internship has mentally drained me, which is exactly what I love.

I’ve been pushed to work as hard as I can, to meet deadlines the day they’re set, and these are invaluable life skills I can carry forward with me into the future. This may sound awfully cliché, but now that I’ve had a taste for working in an environment related to my degree, I can’t bring myself to go back to retail. Of course, a job is a job, and when it comes to starting my second year of university in a month’s time, I will have to go back to retail part-time in order to pay for university costs, but my passion has now shifted from specialising in menswear to working in the marketing industry.

I take pride in the fact that I have put my free time this summer to great use. Thank you, to the University of Reading and to the company I’m working for, because I’ve had the best time. I definitely would love to do this again next year, and cannot recommend it enough!

A x

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My (Nightmare) Experience with UNITE Students

Life Updates

In March 2016, I received the email I’d waited pretty much 3 years for – the unconditional offer at Reading University, to study English Literature. The only problem that remained was my accommodation. Commuting was out of the question: I was living in the middle of nowhere at the time (South-East England) and did not fancy travelling 2 hours each way, everyday. Unfortunately, by the time I’d received my offer, the accommodation deadline for halls of residence at Reading had come and gone. So my parents and I headed over to the university website, and looked at their recommended list of external, private accommodation options. That’s when we came across Unite Students.

I guess because I was in such a panic to find a place to live during my first year, I didn’t think to look at reviews, as it was recommended by the university. The rent certainly wasn’t cheap either – we assumed for the price we were paying, we wouldn’t need to worry about a thing.

When I first checked in, in September 2016, I was terrified. My mum was terrified. My dad was terrified. The concept of living away from home hadn’t really sunk in until I was standing at that reception desk, filling in the forms. The receptionist ensured both my mum and I that I would be well looked after at Crown House, and so I felt slightly more secure in choosing Unite Students.

Up until January 2017, I had absolutely no issues with Crown House/Unite Student management. The kitchen was kept tidy fortnightly by a cleaner, if there were any maintenance issues, they were resolved literally the next working day. I was happy to be living there. However, unbeknownst to any residents in the building, Crown House was to undergo a major emergency refurbishment, beginning in January, due to “white render” falling down outside the building. There was no warning of this when I moved into the building in September. Now, I’m no builder or contractor, but I’m fairly sure that organising this building work, and bringing in a whole team of builders must have taken months of planning. Which means, Crown House management must have been aware of this PRIOR to the building work beginning in January. I feel cheated of the money my parents had paid for my rent, as we were never told of the major disruption that was about to begin during my residency at Crown House.

The noise was horrendous. I can’t even begin to describe it. They’d start at 8.30am, drilling holes right outside our windows, and they’d finish at 5pm. That’s a whole day of drilling, constantly. Not to mention having men standing right outside my window every morning. A month into the refurbishment, I complained. My friends who came to visit would complain about how bad the noise was, so I knew I was justified in complaining. After a couple of meetings with management, I was given an upgrade to a studio flat on the fifth floor of the building, on the opposite side to where the builders were working. The noise was therefore significantly reduced, and I was finally able to sleep and study again. Considering I had a health condition which meant I needed to be able to rest whenever I was in pain during the day, peace and quiet was absolutely imperative for me. Anyway, I moved into the studio, and I was finally happy.

In May 2017, I received an email that the builders had finished up on that side of the building and so I should move back to my old flat. Now, I understood that the studio flat was a temporary measure, but I received this email the Friday BEFORE my first exam, which was almost laughable. I told them there was no way I was moving right before my first exam, so they gave me a one day extension to leave the studio (also laughable).  To save any hassle and stress during the week when my exams began, I decided to just move in the weekend before my exam, on the Saturday. To my absolute pleasure (please note the heavy sarcasm) I had a new tenant next door to me! Considering I had an exam on the Monday, it was important that I was well-rested. Funnily enough, the Monday exam was one of the hardest of the year. Saturday night saw my charming next door neighbour hosting a party in her room. I figured, since it was a Saturday night, I’d let her make an abundance of horrific noise (including her and her friends singing, screaming and then, eventually, screeching) until just after midnight. Then I really did need to sleep, if I was going to get any last minute revision done on Sunday. 1am approached, and she was still making my ears bleed with noise, so I complained. The security team knocked on her door and told her to keep the noise down. She said “ok” then turned up the volume for a whole other hour before her friends left the flat. I was pissed.

Sunday saw me sleep-deprived, nervous for the following day’s exam and stressed. I’m pretty sure everyone knows by now how badly stress triggers my pain. Anyway, I assumed as it was a Sunday, I’d have no problems with my noisy neighbour and could get up at 6am on Monday morning, ready for my exam, with no issues of sleep deprivation. Oh, how I was wrong. On Sunday night, I was greeted with more screeching, more screaming and howls of laughter that could be heard from OUTSIDE the flat. This time, she wasn’t throwing a party and so I had no real right to complain, or so I thought. In hindsight, I should have complained. By the time I fell asleep, it was well after 3.30am. I needed to be up at 6am. I was a mess. That Monday, the day of my first and hardest exam, I was running on 3 hours sleep and pure adrenaline (and caffeine), all because my new neighbour was an absolute nightmare.

2 weeks passed, and I was getting furthermore frustrated with my new flatmate. I spent all day at the library, simply because she’d wake me up in the morning by having her laptop on full volume and howling at the top of her voice. I kid you not, she would HOWL.

The third week of exam season had approached, and the lack of sleep as a result of my neighbouring flatmate had resulted in my stress levels rocketing through the roof, my sleep deprivation also significantly stressing me out. Then the inevitable happened: I got sick. In fact, I somehow managed to contract a 24 hour flu. I was unable to even get out of bed, let alone revise for the 3 exams I had coming up. My new flatmate had caused me so much distress as a result of disruption, I had to go home with my parents. I spent the next month at home revising, coming back to Reading only to sit my exams, then go back home.

During this time, I informed Crown House management of my situation. I attended multiple meetings, in which I was promised some kind of reasonable outcome. I was told by one of the managers that she would try her absolute hardest to get me some compensation for the one month I spent at home, resulting from my neighbour. All of this was absolutely pointless.

Crown House management brushed my one month of utter distress under the carpet, and told me that “because the new tenant didn’t realise the distress she was causing, the matter is now resolved.” I didn’t receive any compensation. The tenant didn’t even receive a warning.

As soon as Summer Ball was over, I moved out of Crown House. I couldn’t bare to live in that building a minute longer. I told them I’d be looking for a tenant to take up the rest of my tenancy because I could never live there again. Unfortunately, and I should have really seen this coming, they’ve thrown obstacles in my way ever since. I found a tenant willing to take up the rest of my tenancy, only for them to create a “rent issue” with my room, and so they showed him a studio flat INSTEAD. They essentially took my client away from me, so they could get more money.

Overall, I would urge everyone and anyone to NOT live under UNITE students. Their main concern is for themselves and how much money they can squeeze out of a student, not the student at all. They’re unbelievably rude, and do not care for the distress of a student living in their residency. I’ve lost out on 4 month’s rent because they’ve been so difficult, and showed no regard for my suffering when it could easily have been resolved.

I’ve looked at reviews for UNITE students online, and I was horrified at the sheer number of complaints ACROSS THE COUNTRY, by students who were scammed by the company. Please ensure you thoroughly research your accommodation and its reviews before moving in.

Thankfully, I’ll be living on campus next year, and so will never have to deal with them again.

A x

HEALTH UPDATE 2017

Life Updates

4 years later and I finally have the answers I’ve been waiting for.

After seeing a pain consultant at UCLH, I was told I had damage to my abdominal wall, most probably as a result of my operation in 2013. This would explain the consistency in daily pain and the multiple admissions to hospital. The methods of dealing with this are somewhat complicated – there is no “cure” as such, as surgery runs far too many fatal risks, not to mention the risk of furthermore pain. I’m on medication for chronic pain, and hopefully by steadily increasing the dose if I experience severe pain again, it should make a considerable difference to my quality of life. The only downside to the medication is their sedative effect, so I spent 90% of my day resembling that of a zombie. I’ve now been referred to the complex pain team at UCLH, where I’ll undergo physiotherapy to help live with the pain, potential local anaesthetic shots to numb the pain of my damaged abdominal wall and ultimately methods which will ensure I don’t have to visit the a&e department as frequently, and hopefully in time, at all.

Over the past 4 years, I’ve gone through just about every single test possible for abdominal pain and the lack of answers completely destroyed me. I was living in a constant state of not knowing what I was suffering from, with doctors, or “specialists” in the private healthcare field not willing to act on anything. 2015 was by far the worst year of my life – 11 admissions to a&e over 12 months, where they could only manage the pain with opiates left me feeling at my lowest. Many people, healthcare professionals included, underestimate the debilitating impact of chronic pain. I’m always asked to rate my pain – how do I measure it, when I’ve experienced the worst kind this world has to offer? To this day, I’ve never measured my pain at a 10/10 because I’ve become so desensitised to the excruciating nature of a relapse.

I’ve always had people commending me for my bravery and strength, but ultimately this is 90% of the time a facade to help me survive. I’m so far from brave, compared to those who suffer from terminal illnesses and what not. There are days where I’m overcome with anxiety over how I’ll live with the pain when it gets bad, and how isolating the pain can be. There are days when I criticise myself for pitying myself when I’m so lucky compared to the plight of others. I’m filled with guilt at the sacrifices my family have made for me, and the pain they’ve had to helplessly witness, all the while encouraging me and supporting me. But I’ve slowly come to realise that it’s perfectly okay to feel sorry for myself here and there. It’s okay to feel like absolute shit. It’s okay to cry my heart out. Because pain is soul-destroying.

Ultimately, I survived these 4 years solely because I have an incredible support system. My immediate family and close friends have saved my life.

So, thank you. Thank you to the specialists at UCLH for giving me the answers I’ve waited so long for. Thank you to my close friends who’ve shown me so much support recently. Thank you to the friends who’ve become family. Thank you to each and every one of you who have contacted me on here and offered advice, encouragement and so much more. And thank you, a thousand times over, to my family.  God bless you all.

It gets worse before it gets better, but it does get better.

A x

An Open Letter to My Parents

Life Updates

The past few years have been turbulent, both physically and mentally for myself and those around me; the constant rejection of the answers I was desperately looking for, the reluctance to be treated for whatever is going on inside me, and the anxiety surrounding being in pain everyday were painful to say in the least. However, with the news that the investigations into my health conditions have now come to an end, I’ve stopped hoping for a miracle, adopting a rather more realistic approach to dealing with the pain. I’ve made peace with the idea that I’ll have to treat these symptoms, potentially for the rest of my life, rather than having multiple doctors, surgeons and specialists poke me here and there, performing countless tests.

Those closest to me will know how much I despise pity and sympathy: my health is something I have yet to come to terms with (I know, I know, it’s been 4 years) so handling other’s reactions isn’t something that comes easily to me when I don’t really know how to handle it myself. However, the one thing I have always been grateful for, but now more so than ever, is the relentless support of my parents.

During my darkest hours, they shared my pain and agony. In 2013, they shared my fear of going under the knife for the first time in my life. But they put aside all their own emotions to support me, comfort me and encourage me. Many will comment on my bravery in suffering from a debilitating health issue, but I believe the bravest of them all are my parents, for being strong for me. I remember waking up from the general anaesthetic after my operation and hearing my mum sob because she couldn’t handle the sight of me being attached to wires, an oxygen mask, and tubes attached to me. This was the first time I’d heard her cry since I was diagnosed, and in many ways that was more painful than the actual agony of a gallbladder attack. As parents, there’s an assumption that you have to be strong for your children, and my parents exceeded that. I know for a fact that their support has helped me live through this, and without it, I don’t know where I’d be.

It’s time for me to stop thinking about how I’ll survive living with whatever I am going through, but rather focus on how I can live my life to the fullest with it. Perhaps I was justified in my selfishness regarding the whole thing – after all, it was my illness, something only I was experiencing. But in many ways, my pain is also my parents’ pain. I haven’t given them enough credit for helping me survive the worst days of my life. I owe them everything for helping me keep it together when I was at my lowest points. Their ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel when I’m blind to it myself is a gift they are blessed with.

So thank you both, for transforming me into the strong woman I am today. I am a survivor because of you. You love me even when I’m at my worst, and boy am I an absolute nightmare. Through your care and devotion, you have created a human being who is prepared to fight whatever life throws at her head on. You have given me the strength to survive my darkest hours, and it’s only your words which help me overcome them. Your strength and courage lives within me, and I am so proud to call you my parents. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I’ll be able to embrace it because of you.

A x

HEALTH UPDATE: JULY 2016

Life Updates

It could be worse.

That has pretty much been my life motto for the past two years and it’s actually worked out considerably well. As a result, I’m less prone to wallowing in self-pity, although perhaps I can thank my job for that, too.

After 20 months of uncertainty, pain, hospital admissions and tests, I’ve been told there’s nothing that can be done for my current health situation as there are too many risks associated with surgery. (Last resort and what we were subtly hoping for as a miraculous cure) There’s no medication left for me to take; I’m already on painkillers, plus chronic pain relief before I go to sleep, so a medicinal approach is also out of the question. Doctors have now suggested a “holistic approach” to dealing with the pain and symptoms that come with this confusing/unique health condition.

I’ve been a little weary when it comes to the term “holistic” because it felt like a cop-out when it was suggested on the post-consultation report. Almost like a “we couldn’t help you surgically, so try some homeopathy or yoga.” But looking into it further, it’s worth a shot considering we’ve exhausted every other avenue.

I guess the worst aspect of living with this/these health condition(s) is the absolute loneliness that comes with having to live with it. Of course I am incredibly blessed and lucky to have such supportive parents and family, as well as exceptional friends who have stood by my side since the day I was first hospitalised. Ultimately, however, having to live with ongoing pain and knowing there’s no real cure out there for me now is the worst thing. Realising that I’ve been through so much pain, horrid health relapses and symptoms, only to be told I should ‘go herbal.’ It’s awfully lonely; having to summon up the courage to say “okay Anisah, you’ve been through this before, you can get through this now.” Accepting that pain is a part of my life I just have to live with. When I have to leave a room, or take a break from work, or even duck to the loos when out with friends, I have to pray and beg that whatever’s causing my abdomen grief will just go away. “You just have to ride it out” is infuriating to hear; why me? After everything, why am I still suffering? Will it ever go away?

It sounds terribly despondent, I know, but I guess the lonely aspect of a health condition is something I’ve not touched on before, yet is imperative to consider nevertheless. It interlinks strongly with your psychological state of mind too, almost like a vicious circle. When I experience physical pain, my anxiety levels increase and I panic a little. As a result of living with these health issues, I’m prone to periods of feeling low and anxious for the future. I’m desperately hoping that a holistic approach helps me physically and mentally, because I am drained in both senses!

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” – Kahlil Gibran

A x

Happy Father’s Day!

Life Updates

Today marks a very special day dedicated to the heroic fathers who do so much for their children! Sadly, I spent majority of this day wrapped in a blanket as a result of being unwell, and it didn’t go to plan at all. Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to making up for it when I’m feeling a little better.

These past few years have been particularly difficult and my dad has been one of the very few people to stand by me through thick and thin. With his tireless efforts to make me feel better, make me laugh and support me, I couldn’t have asked for a better father. He goes well out of his way and beyond to make my life a little more bearable and easier. From picking me up from the station at ridiculous hours of the night, to dropping me off to work at 3am when I used to work at the airport, it’s insane how he’s managed to put up with me! Yet he continues to do so, showering me with love and support endlessly.

Dad, I don’t give you enough credit for what you do for me, and for our family. You’re one of the most incredible men I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing and loving, and I most certainly wouldn’t be the person I am today without you, and all the sacrifices you’ve made. Everyday, I grow more proud of you as a father, as a businessman and as a person.

Thank you for doing what you do. For loving me, for supporting me, for sitting down at 1am to discuss world politics and world peace with me. You’ve provided me with so much in life that I never thank you for, but will forever be grateful for.

All my love,

Anisah

Back to Work!

Life Updates

Ah. After five weeks of unemployment, I can’t possibly express how nice it is to finally have a job again, especially one I adore so much.

Thankfully, I’m back working in menswear at the same company as before, but this time in a better location and at an A list store! I’m just over a week into my new routine and it’s been absolutely crazy; the pressure of a better performing store is certainly intense at times but it’s something to make the most of. Furthermore, with this job I can now focus more on training to be a merchandiser, although merchandising here is a whole new ball game! From the team to the products, everything is wonderful and I’m super excited to work here until September.

Working in a new store also makes me realise how much I miss my old one! The little family we had back in my old branch was something quite special, and at times I miss having a boss who pretty much let me get away with anything and everything. I was incredibly lucky to have a supportive set of senior staff who looked after me as much as they did and being practically best pals with my department manager. However, leaving the store was the best decision I could have made, especially after having to endure bullying for three months straight by a colleague.

Finally, I’m just grateful to be working again! A health update is pending, but as of right now, working up to 30 hours a week is just what I need at this point – not only does it serve as a brilliant distraction, but it’s also a hell of a lot of fun. It takes my mind of all the crappy stuff going on with my health right now, and I don’t have time to wallow in self pity/think about pain whilst I’m running around the shop floor.

So thank you to my old work family for transforming me into a menswear ace, and I look forward to great new adventures with my new menswear family.

Ciao, and Ramadan Mubarak!

 

Happy Birthday, Mum!

Life Updates

I’m so bummed to be working till 10 tonight on my mum’s special day, but nevertheless, I wanted to take this opportunity to just thank her for everything she’s done for me so far.

My mum has relentlessly supported me, showering me in compassion through my darkest hours; it’s thanks to her that I’m the person I am today. Mum, you have helped me embrace a strength I never knew I had with your tireless dedication to making me feel better as well as making me a better person. You’re an incredible role model, too – aside from the 5 degrees under your belt!

I hope one day I can make you as proud as I am to call you my mother. Even when I’m at my most frustrating, you still find it in yourself to comfort me, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful. The sacrifices you’ve made for me will never go unappreciated, and one day you’ll see that.

Thank you for encouraging me to surpass my own goals and achieve more than I thought possible. You deserve nothing less than eternal happiness: the woman you are is the woman I aspire to be. I love you unconditionally and more than I can ever put into words. (Oh, and the care home jokes are a joke, I promise!)

Anisah x

HEALTH UPDATE: MAY 2016

Life Updates

The waiting game.

It appears I spend most of my time waiting for things to happen; currently, I’m waiting to be seen by a specialist in the field of Sphincter of Oddi Dysfunction at Harley Street. Sadly, the NHS route proved to be an absolute disaster; I spent two months waiting for the appointment to come through to see a consultant who had an “interest” in the field of SOD at a tertiary centre hospital, only for him to tell me there was nothing he could do about my condition due to a substantial “lack of evidence” excluding my pain. It’s safe to say that I was livid after that appointment. His reluctance to do anything about my condition pretty much summed up why I have no faith in doctors – for over a year and a half, my condition has worsened yet they seem to intentionally brush over my three year-long suffering.

Sphincter of Oddi Dysfunction is a tricky little condition; for one, the Sphincter muscle in my bile duct is so tiny that the best way to assess whether it’s working properly (or not, in my case) is to go inside and undergo a procedure. The problem is this procedure carries the risk of inducing pancreatitis; having already suffered a bout of it two years ago, I’m not too keen to risk any chances of having it again because the pain is horrendous. Pancreatitis also runs the risk of inflicting life-long damage onto the pancreas, creating furthermore health problems. However, having exhausted many medicinal routes to tackle to pain I’m in daily with SOD, I’m running out of patience and options. Being bombarded with pain relief doesn’t solve the issue and it appears the doctors I’ve seen are almost reluctant to cure it, opting for a safer, non-invasive method of treating the symptoms.

Another problem is the relapses. Whilst I was away, I suffered from an episode of severe pain which landed me in hospital – not ideal when you’re in another country. The relapses occur almost every other month, drastically impacting my life with its unpredictability. Doctors perhaps perceive my desperation for medical intervention as just another kid who comes in with pain in their stomach. They don’t realise how badly this condition has ruined my life for the past three years. They can’t imagine being in pain for a solid 18 months because they’ve never been there.

I know it’s wrong to desperately hope for something when I’ve already been disappointed so many times before, but I sincerely hope this consultant will give me some answers this time. If not surgical intervention then at least another option to consider would be preferable. Being written off has destroyed me, physically and emotionally.

So, hopefully, in ten days I may just get some answers!

A x

 

Umrah 2016: Medina

Life Updates

Medina: The Prophet’s (ﷺ) holy city and final resting place. With it comes immeasurable peace and tranquility, a sacred place of historic, Islamic beauty. The Prophet’s Mosque, Al-Masjid an-Nabawi, is said to be one of the largest mosques in the world yet during prayer times, the entire mosque is packed full of people.

We pretty much spent our time doing exactly what we did in Makkah, and the only thing we really wanted to do which was complete our five daily prayers in the Mosque. Whereas Makkah is well known for being sacred, Medina is beautiful in its historical value. Hearing the call to prayer every couple of hours didn’t just reach our hearts, it reached our souls. What’s even more spectacular is seeing such a large number of people come together at the sound of a prayer, in absolute silence, entirely absorbed in worship.

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Al-Masjid an-Nabawi at Fajr

The most humbling aspect of entering Medina is knowing that our beloved Prophet ﷺ is buried there. Sadly, due to the large number of people and short time slots, we were unable to visit the tomb. The organisation of visiting hours for the tomb was terrible, I have to admit; when the doors opened, people ran towards the Prophet’s ﷺ tomb like their lives depended on it. Islam clearly teaches us not to idolise or worship anyone other than God; The Prophet also warned us not to run in an act of desperation, the same way one should never cause harm to a fellow Muslim (i.e by pushing, shoving, crushing) whilst reaching his tomb. It’s a shame that many of those who visited the tomb on the day I went completely discarded these teachings they supposedly hold so dear. My father’s toenail was ripped by men crushing each other to catch a glimpse of the tomb. My foot was run over by a wheelchair. It was absolute chaos, and I urge the Saudi’s to organise their crowd control because it is unsafe.

Nevertheless, the Mosque and the tomb are truly breathtaking in their intricate beauty. Islamic teachings believe there to be an empty grave along with the Prophet’s ﷺ tomb, said to belong to our Prophet Isa (Jesus, peace be upon him) when he returns to the world for forty years. Knowing that the tomb was the closest I could ever get to the Prophet ﷺ not only brought me closer to Islam, it also filled me with pride in being part of such a peaceful, beautiful religion. In Medina, there’s countless opportunities to learn more about our beloved Prophet and his teachings/what he lived for. For example, he spoke of equality within mankind, regardless of their religion or belief. He spoke of gender equality.  He fought for his life, for his religion and for his people, to convey the message of Allah. (SWT)

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Al-Masjid an-Nabawi

Alhamdulillah, it makes sense for the city to be as beautiful as the religion itself.

Whilst in Medina, we also explored historical sites such as Mount Uhud, Masjid Al-Qiblatain and Jannat Al-Baqi. Each site holds stories of the Prophet’s ﷺ heroic struggles to convey the message of Islam along with other historical tales. To be on the same land, in the same place as our beloved Prophet is a truly enlightening spiritual experience. I can only hope and pray that all my Muslim followers and friends experience what I have, because it is like no other.

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View from the top of Mount Uhud

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Mount Uhud

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Graveyard of the Prophets

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Qiblatain Mosque

I want to thank my wonderful grandparents and my parents for making this trip possible. Their determination for us all to experience this and so early in my life has had an immeasurable impact on me and I’m grateful beyond words that they’ve given me this gift. Inshallah my prayers for them were heard.

On a final note, I want to thank Allah for allowing me to experience this trip and everything He has to offer us. Coming back from Makkah and Medina, I spent the following weeks incredibly sick with my ongoing health conditions amidst new bugs I’d picked up along the way. Allah (SWT) looked out for me whilst I was in Makkah and Medina, blessing me with perfectly good health and no pain. Although these past few weeks have been the most challenging yet, I’ve embraced the peace He’s bestowed on me; every time I feel scared, nervous or in pain, my soul goes back to Makkah and I remember His plan for me is still in motion – I just have to wait the worse of it out. When I needed it the most, He gave me strength to go on, to fight my body. Whenever life gets tough, or there are obstacles in the road, I can now embrace the peace my soul has finally found.

And I know I can make it through to the other side.

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Maghrib Prayer on our final night in Medina (Photo: Mama Hamid)

لآ اِلَهَ اِلّا اللّهُ مُحَمَّدٌ رَسُوُل اللّهِ

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