The Practice of Madinah Through the Lens of Motherhood
What I’m Talking About When I Say ‘Motherhood’
I want to clarify, that though this is a talk from the perspective of a mother, it is not aimed only at the mothers in the audience. Rather, it is for anybody who has a mother, or had a mother, or regularly spends time in the company of mothers. Motherhood is a deep subject and the condition of mothers has a lasting impact on all of us.
Reflecting on this subject it occurred to me to divide motherhood into two stages. Of course, there are many more stages than that, but for today I want to speak about the initial stage of growing and giving birth to a child and then, a second stage, beginning from the moment of birth which involves nurturing and educating the child until they are mature. So, very loosely, the part of mothering a child that happens hidden inside a woman's body and the part that happens outside.
For many reasons, some women experience one part of motherhood without the other. They may give birth to a child but not raise them, or raise a child they did not give birth to.
Here I would like to invite a pause, to reflect on our mothers and the women who raised us.
What I’m Talking About When I Say ‘The Practice of Madinah,
I think it is important to clarify what I consider to be the practice of Madinah for the purpose of this talk. I consider the practice of Madinah to be the lived, embodied, practical application of the sunnah of the rasul (saw). I consider it to be community living, clear honest transactions, the building of trust, working together, being together in dhikr, being together in celebration, overlooking each other’s difficult parts, or dealing with them, allowing ourselves to be reflected back to us in the mirror of our companions. This is what I imagine to be the practice of Madinah.
The practice of Madinah is not possible in isolation and that is one of the biggest challenges we face in aligning ourselves with it today.
I mentioned how, for the purpose of this talk, I will divide motherhood into two stages. I think one very important detail to draw attention to is who the mother collaborates with, in each of these stages, in order to nourish and protect herself and her child. Who does she need? Who is aware of her and supporting her? What is her position in the community?
In one sense she needs very little during the stage of pregnancy and birth. At this stage it is very obvious that the child’s provision comes entirely from Allah. If the mother has food and safety the baby grows without her doing anything. Beyond basic sustenance, she needs nothing to grow the child. But, in our modern society, this is where she is “cared for”, checked on, scanned and measured.
She can also give birth to her child without the assistance of anyone else, like every other mammal. I was thinking, I don’t know anybody who has called the vet because their cat is having kittens. But this is where mothers are often made to feel that they can’t do it by themselves, that they need outside support, need to be taught, measured, timed, and kept secure. Often this is a hindrance more than a help.
I want to draw your attention to an account of a birth in the qur’an - the birth of Isa (Jesus) alayhi salaam.
Surah Maryam - 19: 22-26
22 So she conceived him and withdrew with him to a distant place.
23 The pains of labour drove her to the trunk of a date-palm.
She said, ‘Oh if only I had died before this time
And were something discarded and forgotten!
24 A voice called out to her from under her,
‘Do not grieve! Your Lord has placed
a small stream at your feet.
25 Shake the trunk of the palm towards you
and fresh, ripe dates will drop down onto you.
26 Eat and drink and delight your eyes.
She withdraws to a distant place. Everything she needs is provided. She is invited to eat and drink and delight her eyes.
Perhaps for this first stage of motherhood, isolation is suitable, maybe even helpful. Company might not even be necessary - or not for every woman.
But once the baby is born, help is very much required. This is where modern society fails to offer anything remotely nourishing to the mother, baby and their family. It is from this point on that the help becomes more and more important. The mother can grow the child alone. She cannot raise the child alone.
To successfully raise a child we want that they will be capable of engaging with society, contributing their gifts, able to relate to different types of humans. To become well-adapted to society they must be exposed to a society. A mother cannot provide “a society” on her own. It is a cliche to say “it takes a village” but it is true. Our children are our children. They do not belong to their parents. Their parents have a great responsibility yes, but we also carry a great responsibility as the other adults that surround them.
In the 4 years that I have been a mother, my husband and I have lived in a variety of household dynamics. We have lived alone as a nuclear family, we have lived with my parents in our house, and we have lived together with another family in the same house. The difference between mothering in company and mothering alone is like night and day. There are always challenges but it is very apparent to me that to be completely alone with my children, with no other adult is completely unnatural.
This is where we can look to the practice of Madinah. One thing that came to mind when I reflected on this subject was wet nurses. This is a pre-Islamic practice but it is a practice that remained after the revelation.
To entrust your baby to another woman to breastfeed is quite an unusual concept for us today. This practice indicated two things to me about the women at that time.
Firstly, there must be quite a trust to exist for a mother to hand her child over to be nourished by another woman. Even if that woman is a paid professional.
Secondly, it suggests to me an unshakable confidence in the role of the mother. It is not threatened by the child being breastfed by another woman. Whatever a ‘mother’ was, it was not ‘the one and only person responsible for every need this baby has’.
Trust between people. Clarity of transactions.
I’d like to take a moment to pause and reflect on these elements. Where do these exist in your life? Where do you wish there was more?
Does Islam in Europe need to be revitalised?
Now I come to the question of the revitalisation of Islam in Europe. For me, to look at this through the lens of motherhood is to look into the future. What will Islam in Europe look like for my children? Who will they marry? What will the culture of motherhood be for my daughter? These kinds of questions require me to imagine the possibilities 20 or 30 years from now.
In fact, I don’t see Islam in Europe as in need of revitalisation. It is so young. The large Islamic empires in these parts of the world died. What exists now is something new.
It would be unusual to speak about a child or a young person as somebody in need of revitalising. They are vibrant, and youthful, and full of energy. They are not in decline. They haven’t yet reached their peak. This is how I view Islam in Europe.
I live in Italy. It is a country in which Islam is not even recognised as an official religion. They have only two; Judaism and Christianity, and so there is no government funding for mosques or anything like that.
Last year, I spent months without a home. We were restricted to Italy for my husband’s work but, other than that, we weren’t sure where we would end up. I have travelled to many random places in strange rural areas of Italy and many times I felt so isolated as a Muslim. I wonder if I’m the only Muslim in this village? I would think and every single time I was not.
I would see a woman with a hijab taking her children to the local school, or one time, I heard somebody shouting salaams outside the window and realised that there was a whole group of Egyptian construction workers renovating a structure next door, in the small village we were staying in.
Even in the village I now live in. When we first arrived we were lamenting that we had no Muslim company. We went to a bar to get a coffee and we noticed on the wall a painting of men in turbans riding horses through the desert. It looked very Arab. Then a girl came to take our coffee order and her name was Iman. She was 18 years old and she has lived in this small village her whole life. Her parents moved from Morocco 30 years ago.
My husband went for the Eid prayer at the nearest Islamic centre to us, which is in a town 20 minutes away. He said it was full, but what was really noticeable is that it was full of young people. You can’t say that about the churches of Italy.
I also have an online tutor for Italian. Her name is Beatrice, she lives in Venice. On the first day of Ramadan I had a lesson with her and it turned out she was also fasting. I was so surprised.
“Are you a Muslim??” I asked her.
“No,” she replied, “not yet, but I feel I am heading that way.”
So to me, from my experience, Islam seems very alive and vibrant in Europe. Islam is growing. It’s flowing. It has it’s own current. Allah has a plan. Perhaps we don’t need to revitalise the river - perhaps we need to drink from it and be revitalised.
Mothers, and the communities that support them, need to be revitalised. There is too much resting on the foundation of their wellness for them to be in a bad state.
How do we revitalise ourselves?
There are two practical steps that I would propose. These are instructions I remember Shaykh Abdalqadir giving us in one of the last regular Saturday night dhikrs he attended in Cape Town. He told us to hold tightly to two things; an outward thing and an inward thing:
Hosting people in our homes.
Making dua
For me, personally, I have never felt the importance of these things so strongly as I have since becoming a mother.
I have no family where I live. Neither does my husband. Slowly we have started to make friends, but it does take time to form good bonds and the people around us are not Muslims. We meet our need for good company by hosting lots of people in our home. Since the week we moved in, we have had visitors from South Africa, from other parts of Italy, from Australia, from Switzerland, Germany, the US, my family from the UK, Muhammad’s family from Israel. I’m sure there are others I’ve forgotten.
I have been constantly with guests, then without guests, with guests, then without guests, so I have observed, clearly, the experience of mothering with others around and mothering in isolation, with just me and my kids.
Whenever I am alone I can manage for a day or two, but really, it is completely unsustainable.
When there is the presence of another, the whole thing changes. Even just a friend coming over for coffee for an hour or two in the morning. When I am sitting with a friend, my children play and leave me alone. This would never happen if I sat down to make a phone call. There is something in the presence of another person. My nervous system can relax a little - and they are connected to mine.
And that’s only one benefit of company. There are all sorts of other possibilities that can grow from being more regularly with other people. We begin to understand each other’s needs, we know when someone is well or not, we discover ways in which our skills complement each other, or that we share particular interests. So - invite people!
The second thing was making dua. I could just say we should all make dua and ask for what we want but we would probably all have a different understanding of what that looks like, so I want to say a bit more.
I want to talk about not “what that looks like” but what that feels like. It’s not that you have to hold your hands like this, and say the words like this. It is connecting to your heart and the deep and true desires that are present there and then handing them to Allah, honestly. This is what I want.
I ended up having a conversation about this last night. We make duas that are too small. Duas that only scratch the surface of what we really want. Tell the truth to Allah, He already knows.
Before we end I invite you, once more, to sit in silence. To connect with your heart and the deepest truest desires you are able to access. Ask for that. Let your heart call out for that.
I will finish with one of the beautiful duas we all recite on a regular basis, the prayer on the prophet (saw). I invite you to join your voice with mine. Don’t leave me in isolation!
