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Reviving the Hijri Calendar: A Call to Reconnect 

The question often hangs in the air a bit awkwardly: “Do you know the date? No, I mean the Hijri date?” More often than not, the response from students and parents is a sheepish “No.” I’ve even posed this question to a renowned Islamic scholar, who, to his surprise, was not only mistaken about the month but also two years off the correct Hijri year!


My aim isn’t to embarrass anyone, but rather to encourage Muslims to reconnect with the Hijri calendar—a sacred timekeeping system ordained by Allah (swt). As the Quran states in Surat At-Tawbah (9:36):
“Indeed, the number of months with Allah is twelve [lunar] months in the register of Allah [from] the day He created the heavens and the earth; of these, four are sacred. That is the correct religion, so do not wrong yourselves or others during them…”


This verse underscores the divine significance of the Hijri calendar and how it is unique from any other calendar.


My own journey to embrace the Hijri calendar began two years ago, sparked by Shaykh Abdal Hakim Murad’s lecture, “The Sacred Nature of The Islamic Calendar.” Around the same time, I discovered the #GoHijri movement by The Productive Muslim Company. Inspired, I purchased a Hijri calendar for my office and started using it in my daily life. I sent an email to Br. Mohammad Faris suggesting that we promote the GoHijri movement in Islamic Schools. He responded enthusiastically and proposed the development of a “GoHijri” lesson plan for educators and parents.


The Islamic Curriculum Initiative was the perfect platform for this project. Eighteen educators from the Global Association of Islamic Schools joined forces to develop an engaging lesson plan, structured around a three-step framework: “Engage, Examine, Act.” (You can download the free lesson plan here). The lesson plan includes four goals:

  1. Learn about the origin of the Hijri calendar via stories of the Sahaba.
  2. Explore different calendars to understand the uniqueness of the Hijri calendar.
  3. Experience the Hijri calendar through various activities.
  4. Develop a sense of Islamic identity and ownership by learning about the Hijri calendar
    So, dear reader, I pose the question to you: Do you know the Hijri date today? If not, I urge you to take action! Order a Hijri calendar (or download this free template if you’re at a school), get the “Go Hijri!” lesson plan, and join us in reviving the lost Sunnah of using the Hijri Calendar.

GoHijri!

P.S. For more resources related to the Hijri Calendar, see here: ​​https://gohijri.org/resources/

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    Islamic Currricullum Initiative: Free Lesson Plans on Palestine & Aqsa
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    Identity Card
    by Mahmoud Darwish

    Write down!
    I am an Arab
    And my identity card number is fifty thousand
    I have eight children
    And the ninth will come after a summer
    Will you be angry?

    Write down!
    I am an Arab
    Employed with fellow workers at a quarry
    I have eight children
    I get them bread
    Garments and books from the rocks...
    I do not supplicate charity at your doors
    Nor do I belittle myself at the footsteps of your chamber
    So will you be angry?

    Write down!
    I am an Arab
    I have a name without a title
    Patient in a country
    Where people are enraged
    My roots
    Were entrenched before the birth of time
    And before the opening of the eras
    Before the pines, and the olive trees
    And before the grass grew

    My father ... descends from the family of the plough
    Not from a privileged class
    And my grandfather ... was a farmer
    Neither well-bred, nor well-born!
    Teaches me the pride of the sun
    Before teaching me how to read
    And my house is like a watchman's hut
    Made of branches and cane
    Are you satisfied with my status?
    I have a name without a title!

    Write down!
    I am an Arab
    You have stolen the orchards of my ancestors
    And the land which I cultivated
    Along with my children
    And you left nothing for us
    Except for these rocks ...
    So will the State take them
    As it has been said?!

    Therefore!
    Write down on the top of the first page:
    I do not hate people
    Nor do I encroach
    But if I become hungry
    The usurper's flesh will be my food
    Beware ...
    Beware ...
    Of my hunger
    And my anger!

    Oh Children of Gaza
    by Zahraa Jamal

    Oh Children of Gaza!
    Our hearts bleed;

    We see how
    You are killed,
    Skating down the street.

    Oh Children of Gaza!

    It’s unfair;

    Your rights are not fulfilled,
    But you possess a beauty and strength So rare.

    Oh Children of Gaza!

    Hold strong to Deen;

    Say, Hasbunallah!
    Allah is sufficient for us!
    Worry not, trust that you are seen.

    Oh Children of Gaza!

    The day will dawn,
    When justice will be served.
    Those who have wronged you, Will suffer and mourn.

    Oh Children of Gaza!

    Your pain is not in vain.
    Jannah awaits,
    And for eternity,
    there you will remain.

    O beloved Palestine
    by Hana Vahed

    O beloved Palestine
    We won’t let you go
    When will the bloodshed stop?
    Only Allah knows
    Israel is to blame
    But they are lying
    And always denying
    Let the people return to the homes they’ve fled
    And let their hearts be free of dread
    Though we may not see it
    These people are great
    In the eyes of Allah, this is their fate
    In Palestine’s heart, hope is still strong
    Amongst the pain, love shines on
    Empathy and peace beat in the hearts of all
    With the hardship, their Imaan stays true
    Because saving Al Aqsa is what they were chosen to do

    I Walk Through The Valley Of Death
    by Jurair Abdul Qadir Patel

    I walk through the valley of death
    a place once so full of life
    I wondered if the cries of my daughter
    weren't enough
    for the oppressors to stop
    and pull out the knife
    I wondered
    if killing millions wasn't fulfilling enough
    for the Israelis to spare
    my child
    Helpless and broken
    I stared at the sky
    with my knees on the ground
    with tears in my eye
    surrounded by the soldiers
    from all the sides
    I smiled at the animals
    in front of my eyes
    who carried the flag of blue and white
    for there was no remorse
    their conscience had died.

    I Am What Israel Made Me
    by Salma Mather

    I used to be a girl
    who laughed at everything and was constantly being told
    by my teachers to stop talking
    I used to be brave
    and whole
    I looked in the mirror today
    and realised that girl
    Died
    Along with the others
    She is buried under the rubble
    I am no longer brave
    Or whole
    I can no longer laugh
    I can only keep re-seeing
    The ripped torso of a girl
    Who I used to call my best friend
    They call me a victim
    I am no longer a girl
    I am just what Israel made me

    How Can I Stand For A Place I Have
    Never Been
    by Imaan Hassim

    How can I stand for a place I have never been?
    Speak out for people I have never seen?

    Is it that the heart chooses what to feel?

    Is it humanity that binds us?

    If I could I’d whisper secrets in the winds.

    To every mother whose tears never cease.

    To every father whose fears only grow.

    To every child who dreams like me.

    You are not alone.

    Your dreams glisten and shine like
    The moonlit sea.

    Over dark and hellish skies, the sun
    Shall always rise.

    Oh, certainly Palestine freedom shall be
    Your prize

    Palestine
    by Noor Elgobashy

    As the sun starts to set
    A child lies beneath an olive tree to rest
    Her home destroyed
    She was left dismayed
    This pure child’s innocence, void
    Monitoring a soldier approach
    Her heart feels tense
    Her body, dense
    She tries to scream
    Wishing this was just a dream

    She closes her eyes in silent prayer
    And there lies the figure right before her
    With lifeless eyes
    And a gun in his hand
    Another life lost, more stolen land

    Dear Palestine
    The world knows there are hundreds like this everyday
    And what does the world do
    Where is humanitarian aid
    When d human rights come into play
    Its time to put a end to this
    This war must bid farewell
    For there will come a time
    When Palestine
    Will finally prevail
    But for now,
    You are in our prayers

    Oh Allah bring their hearts together
    Reform their mutual relationships
    And give them victory over your enemies and their enemies

    Pain of Palestine
    by Syeda Maryam

    Like the people of Nuh
    And the Muslims of Makkah
    Will this nation too
    Find refuge for their Taqwah?

    Akin to the Sahaba
    And their striving ways
    Pray the Palestinians’ burning Iman
    Will save them today

    Ya Muqtadir, whose power is a universe
    Compared to which the cruel are specks
    And Whose mercy blooms like a flower Amidst the thorns of our world’s brutality
    Ya Rahman, the denier of undeserved despair,
    Ya Rauf, who loves his believers endlessly,
    Spare the Muminoon of Palestine pain
    Like you spared Bani Israel from vicious reign

    Ya Darr, the one who brings pain to the immoral
    Ya Mumit, who ends the evil
    Make an example of the predators of the Mumin
    An example the world won’t forget

    Even though they were born with a devil
    Every person is also born with an angel
    Ya Hadi, who shows the light to the lost
    Guide the wayward of this world

    I Wonder
    by Safa Asghar

    I wonder as I stare at the empty grey sky
    If everyone lives under the same one
    I wonder what living is like
    When I don’t know I’ll exist the next moment
    I asked my mother if humanity still existed
    She said humans do
    I wonder what I have done to deserve this,
    Why people still don’t care?
    I think about freedom
    and if my people will ever get it?
    I look at my scarred hands
    And I wonder if my wounds will ever heal
    I wonder what life is actually like
    If people still have their families, while mine
    is no more
    I wonder when I would smile
    after all the shed tears
    They told me to cling onto hope
    And I wonder when it would turn into reality
    I wonder what will happen to my people
    as the inhuman soldier presses the trigger...

    As The Sun Starts To Set
    by Noor Elgobashy

    As the sun starts to set
    A child lies beneath an olive tree to rest
    Her home destroyed
    She was left dismayed
    This pure child’s innocence, void
    Monitoring a soldier approach
    Her heart feels tense
    Her body, dense
    She tries to scream
    Wishing this was just a dream
    She closes her eyes in silent prayer
    And there lies the figure right before her
    With lifeless eyes
    And a gun in his hand
    Another life lost, more stolen land
    Dear Palestine
    The world knows there are hundreds like this everyday And what does the world
    do
    Where is humanitarian aid
    When do human rights come into play
    Its time to put a end to this
    This war must bid farewell
    For there will come a time
    When Palestine
    Will finally prevail
    But for now,
    You are in our prayers
    Oh Allah bring their hearts together
    Reform their mutual relationships
    And give them victory over your enemies and their enemies

    A Call for Palestine: A Plea for Justice
    by Hassan Shahid

    In the stillness of the night, where shadows weep,
    Where the earth laments, in dreams buried deep,
    The cries of the people slice through the dark,
    Yearning for justice, a freedom’s spark.

    From the ancient wisdom, the Prophet’s flame,
    The tale of Suleman, a revered name,
    He stood where silence was an endless strife,
    Where nations faltered, losing life.

    The camel, once pure, its sanctity betrayed,
    A tale that shook the world, foundations swayed,
    Those who saw the signs of tyranny near,
    Yet in their silence, they bore the weight of fear.

    "Raise your voices, or bear the cost,
    Without justice, all is lost,
    Palestine’s cry, a beacon so bright,
    Guiding us through the darkest night."

    When Gaza’s wail reaches our ears,
    We cannot turn away, nor dismiss the tears,
    Silence will no longer shield us from guilt,
    It fuels the flames oppression built.

    "Now speak with strength, with purpose clear,
    For justice is born when voices are near,
    Palestine calls us to rise, to stand,
    To shield their rights with unwavering hand."

    Let our hearts ignite with a steadfast fire,
    For silence now will lead to mire,
    In every deed, in every voice, we must show,
    That justice and truth in our souls grow.

    If we remain mute as oppression thrives,
    We bear the weight of countless lives,
    Raise your voices, let justice reign,
    In the face of darkness, break every chain.

    "In history’s echo, our actions speak loud,
    The silent falter, the brave stand proud,
    Palestine’s call is our shared fight,
    For justice, for freedom, we must unite."

    Miracles Under the Rubble
    by Ali Husain

    A child in pain, with hope so small,
    She tried her best to call and call.

    An angel came with light so bright,
    Turning darkness into daylight.

    In that light, her fears took flight,
    And rescuer calls lit up the night.

    To warm the child, the angel stayed,
    Until the rescuers found their way.

    Beneath the rubble and the stone,
    A child lay trapped and all alone.

    Yet in his hand, his faith held tight,
    A tasbih glowing through the night.

    His whispered zikr, his softest voice,
    It wasn't really his choice.

    For days he did zikr through hardship and fear,
    Until the rescuers drew near.

    Through the rubble, they found him there,
    Awaiting the right care with silent prayer.

    Beneath the stone, a baby cried,
    With broken bones, she really tried.

    Her cries were small, but her strength was strong,
    A glimmer of hope in her mother's song.

    The rescuers heard her tiny sound,
    And quickly dug into the ground.

    Through shattered glass and broken dreams,
    She suffered under cruel schemes.

    Her tiny hands, her small eyes,
    Made it hard to find her due to her size.

    Though war had torn her family apart,
    This child survived with a beating heart

    Innocence In Ashes
    by Helena Thaer Abdesumad

    In a land where the sun forgets to shine,
    I open my eyes, but darkness is mine.
    The cries of wars are the songs
    that I hear, In Palestine, where
    hope has disappeared.

    My home is just a memory, a
    fleeting ghost, Laughter’s
    vanished, replaced by most
    Terrifying echoes, constant and near—
    A child’s heart is consumed by fear.

    Bombs fall like endless tears from
    the sky, My house turned to rubble,
    no place to hide. Explosions are my
    lullabies, sharp and loud, In every
    blast, I feel my world shroud.

    Mama and Baba are gone, their faces
    I chase, Their loving arms lost in the
    war-torn place. I wander through the
    debris, feeling so lost, In this sea of
    destruction, counting the cost.

    There’s no home to return to, just empty,
    cold streets, Where the nights are long and
    the cold never retreats. I huddle alone
    where shadows take flight, Dreaming of
    warmth in the dead of the night.

    My stomach is empty, hunger my only
    friend, When food appears, it’s stained
    with blood’s end. Each bite is a battle,
    each meal is a tear,
    In a world where even sustenance is a fear.

    Pain is my constant companion now,
    I've grown numb to the hurt, don't
    ask me how. My body bears the scars
    of countless strife, In this cruel world
    that's stolen my life.

    Once a child with dreams now
    forced to see, A world where
    innocence is lost to me.
    I’ve aged in heart, my spirit’s been
    cracked, In a blink, my youth
    stripped and attacked.

    In this land where hope has
    turned to dust, I live in a
    nightmare, broken and thrust.
    Each day’s a struggle, each night a scar,
    A child's heart beaten by a war’s cruel scar.
    --------------------------------------------------------------------
    This poem is written from the perspective of a Palestinian child living in Gaza.

    The Evergreen Tree
    by Rushda Suleman

    As a blue and white flag falters through the wind
    Your loved ones hold what’s left of you
    In your shroud of crimson-stained thread.

    Your bloody birth certificate
    Hanging in a torn tent
    Haunting them, taunting them,
    Saying; “You have nothing left”.

    On a tree rooted in your ancestral home
    A small olive bud begins to grow
    Bringing with it the undeniable fact
    That their longing land will be returned
    And their broken hearts will be cured.

    So you can sleep soundly knowing very well
    That your death grew resilience and hope;
    An olive branch, a symbol of life reborn.

    A Train of Flame
    by Sohaib Abdelmegeed

    The bride in drapes of white,
    Walks beneath man-made stars that light up the night

    The gown of a thousand layers,
    Its hems incinerated, a drown of prayers

    His only love lost beneath those stones,
    Perhaps he'll find an eye, or maybe a few bones

    A symphony of rhythmic blows,
    Who are you to complain of all your woes?

    And yet he looks up to the stars, a peaceful night,
    To thank the Lord who created what shines bright

    And despite what transpires, through thick and thin
    The righteous in the end surely do win

    Do not despair, people of the green pitted tree
    Your homeland is yours, forever was and will be.

    Poetry in our ears
    (Things you may find hidden in my ear)
    by Musab Abu Toha

    When you open my ear, touch it gently.
    my mother’s voice lingers somewhere inside.
    Her voice is the echo that helps recover my equilibrium
    when I feel dizzy during my attentiveness.

    You may encounter songs in Arabic,
    poems in English I recite to myself,
    or a song I chant to the chirping birds in our backyard.
    When you stitch the cut, don’t forget to put all these back in my ear.
    Put them back in order as you would do with books on your shelf.

    The drone’s buzzing sound,
    The roar of an F-16,
    The screams of bombs falling on houses,
    On fields, and on bodies,
    of rockets flying away—rid my small ear canal of them all.

    Spray the perfume of your smiles on the incision.
    Inject the song of life into my veins to wake me up.
    Gently beat the drum so my mind may dance with yours,
    my doctor, day and night.

    Treasured Memories
    (Inspired by the poetry of Mosab Abu Toha)

    In each room, dim the light's soft glow,
    In the inner hallway, where shadows slow.
    Away from windows, I find my retreat,
    No haven of calm, in my mind worries compete.

    Forget the stove, the scent of food is just a dream
    A bottle of water, to cool the children's fears,
    An embroidered handkerchief to wipe away their tears

    Late grandparents' photos, in tender embrace,
    Money and ID cards of the family whose lives have passed
    A wedding invitation, memories time can't erase.
    Tiny toys within a child's backpack stuffed
    Nestled under my arm, a comforting weight

    My pockets with treasure and purpose, filled,
    Handful of soil in one, strawberry seeds in the other
    I hold on tight to life's little joys, I hold on tight to sweet strong faith.
    For the age on my last birthday might be the last of the years I have.

    The Wind of Gaza
    by Amani Omar

    The wind whispers
    A child awakens
    Sobs shattering silence
    Tattered robes stained with blood
    Alone without solace, a burning heart

    The wind rustles
    A breath of hope
    A wisp of comfort
    The innocent child rises

    The wind howls
    “You are strong, resilient”
    “A nation unbroken”
    “A land destined for freedom”

    The wind rages
    Healing wounds
    Drying tears
    Faith unyielding
    An angel emerges, aiding

    The wind roars, screeching
    “Summon your people”
    Through ruins and ravaging fires
    The call ignites

    Ashes blossom into green
    Warriors mounting white steeds
    Bright stars in the black night
    The Palestinians stand tall against the red horizon

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