The EID of men

I was born in a Madina community, 

Where needs were not priority but just wants,

Yet those who had to help said they can’t.

And that gave me the zeal to help humanity,

Not for their lack of man's basic need,

But for the luck that I now have people to feed.

Seldom did I take part in Islamic activities,

For the idea of the zongo hostilities.

Yet, As long as I grew with their husbands,

I realized not all sad news is created by their hands.

It's only a notion that each child is assumed to have played in the sands.

With my encounter with the second Sheikh of the land,

Islam in focus was what thought me the goodness in Islam's demand.

The rhetoric is this iota of truth in each religion,

That there is a "Mensah" in each tradition.

I played with Abdul after my Sunday school,

And ate with Aisha each break at school.

Sometimes Sheikh himself took us out to the pool,

Don't fight was his only golden rule.

Amelia would bring my mum a basket of food,

I cannot forget the symbolic aroma in their meals.

When I got to be in same hostel with his son,

Sheikh would visit and talk with us in pun,

Just to outline similitude in the Quran and Bible,

Making me wonder why out there, things don't seem that simple.

So when you decide to judge, 

Just imagine these near misses;

You could have been a Muslim,

I could have been a Christian,

Worst still, we could be pagans.

If fasting and feasting

Is as moral as believing and giving,

Why must misunderstanding, pain and anger,

Not be bartered for understanding, gain and prayer?