I first met Ayesha when we were both in elementary school. Our families had met at the masjid, and as Allah willed, we found out they lived on the street right next to us. Although Ayesha was a year older than I was, and we were in none of the same classes, we still played like close friends. Whether it was chasing each other on hot summer afternoons during an exhilarating game of freeze-tag, or playing with pink Barbies in her cluttered but cozy bedroom, we always had a good time.

I was getting ready to go to university, and one of my rituals after changing into my clothes is to traipse down the hall to the master bedroom and see how the outfit looks put-together. I was wearing one of my favourite hijabs: an off-white pashmina from H&M that has black line detailing down the sides. My shirt was a long black-and-white striped Henley that stopped just above my knees, and my jeans were a beautiful dark blue – a recent purchase. However, it was the fit of the jeans that was making me stand in front of the mirror longer than usual that day, my eyebrows furrowed together in deep consideration.

When I was growing up, I had a few things I had collected over the years and treasured greatly. They ranged from stickers, to awards, to letters exchanged between friends in elementary school, to various pictures. I held them dear to my heart and wanted to preserve them for as long as possible; and because I treasured those things so much, one day I decided to make a beautiful treasure box for them. I decorated my treasure box with pieces of silk, ribbon, and colourful construction paper to make it as creative and beautiful as I could, and putting in the effort to make a treasure box made the treasures inside even more valuable to me.

With the last ten days of Ramadan upon us, it is important for us as smart, practicing Muslimahs to take advantage of the blessings that Allah has bestowed on the night of Laylatul-Qadr. The night is so important that an entire surah was dedicated to it in the Quran.

My alarm to wake up in the morning is a local radio station. Two days ago, I woke up to the sound of a heated discussion that was happening between the radio host and a few callers. A Muslim woman had called in to talk about her experience at her condominium’s swimming pool. She had gone swimming wearing leggings and a loose shirt, however she was told to leave the pool by the life guard because apparently, swimming in this apparel would cause a “chemical reaction” with the chlorine. She was told she would only be able to swim if she wore the standard bikini.