It has been a rather busy weekend for me, defined by sumptuous meals, making merry and thanking the almighty Allah for a successful end to the Islamic holy month of Ramadan, with ‘barka da sallah’ ringing from my lips at every opportunity.
From the above, you could be forgiven for assuming I have converted to Islam on your blind side by failing to announce the fact on this page, assuming an Islamic name on the quiet, nursing the prospect of four wives and harbouring plans to undertake a pilgrimmage to Mecca and Medina, among others.
Being called ‘Alhaji’, with all the respect it commands, does have quite a nice ring to it.
But dear reader, I still remain planted in the Catholic faith and cling to my rosary with all the energy I am able to muster, even if I am not exactly a model parishioner.
Rare convergence
This year, Lent and Ramadan began simultaneously — a rare convergence that occurs roughly every 33 to 34 years, due to differing lunar and solar calendars.
It is for this reason that
I decided this year to pay particular attention to both.
After all, the two seasons share the values of fasting, prayer, charity and spiritual reflection, so I decided to operate a sort of twin-track observance, even if I was not exactly going to dive unto the Muslim track.
I have always said to my several Muslim friends that I admire their strong sense of discipline that accompanies the Islamic fast — without as much as a drop of water from sunrise to sunset —especially cooked food vendors, who have to ignore the aroma of their food invading their nostrils all day.
Then there are those who engage in physically demanding jobs outdoors in the unforgiving sinshine and heat.
Even from a safe distance, I find the enterprise quite a gruelling one, and I have observed Muslim friends in the runup to iftar — the evening meal used to break the daily fast — looking rather haggard and quite drained.
A good Muslim friend and I have had quite long, interesting discussions over religion, society and faith over glasses of orange juice over the past month.
After all, we were both in a season of reflection and abstinence, even if on different pathways leading to the Creator.
Celebration time, drip lords
In many ways, therefore, I almost felt fully invested and tuned in when the Islamic fasting period ended, even though the Christian Lent was and remains in full force.
However, I could not continue burying myself in contemplation and reflection whilst my Muslim friends rejoiced.
That would be patently unjust.
So I honoured a couple of sallah lunch invitations, invited myself to three other meals in friends’ homes in the name of sallah, and went out with some friends over the long weekend for some fun.
The live band by the poolside at Sunset Hotel in Kumasi was particularly fantastic and the chicken khebabs and kelewele to die for.
A friend observed that I appeared to be enjoying sallah more than the owners of the season. I ignored her.
My Ashanti New Town residence in Kumasi is not far from Asawase and Aboabo, both major Muslim enclaves within the city, and on Friday through to Sunday motorbikes with excited young Muslims regularly roared past my home.
I did not really mind the din.
The Kumasi City Mall and other parts of the city became de facto mini Islamic territories as families swarmed about in colourful attires, clearly enjoying themselves.
Ah, the attires. Of course, there were the traditional bright and colourful flowing agbadas and jalabiyas for the men, alongside glittering gowns and headscarves for the ladies, to reflect the joy of the occasion.
Alhamdulilah (Praise be to Allah)!!!
Then there were those that have come to be known on social media platforms as ‘drip lords’.
These are young men clothed in an assemblage of jackets, jeans, footwear, caps, bandanas, sunglasses and jewellery that seem to have been carefully colour-coordinated.
They strutted around in pairs or small groups as if they owned the world, confidently dripping with an ‘in-your-face’ fashion statement.
Some groups marched around in bright green, others in sunflower yellow, yet others in sea blue or scarlet red, sparkling and glittering.
I would not be surprised to learn they could be seen from outer space with the naked eye.
As far as I was concerned, the drip lords were the jewels in the ‘sallah’ crown and I found them amusing to no end.
As their images and video clips flooded social media platforms, the common refrain from many observers was ‘where exactly do they get these clothes from?’
Well, I suppose these are classified CIA-level trade secrets that will probably not be revealed until the end of time.
Shared values, Easter beckons
In April 2023, during sallah, I made the following remarks on the interplay between Christianity and Islam in Ghana as the two largest religious groups in the country when discussing sallah;
‘In a country where a sitting Muslim Vice President regularly visits churches and the National Chief Imam, a widely respected figure, visits a church on his birthday without much of an eyebrow raised, I believe we are on to something.’
‘In a country where, particularly among the youth, Muslims participate in Christmas festivities with their Christian friends and ‘sallah meat’ is actively pursued by Christians from their Muslim friends, I think it is good progress.’
‘In a country where a child’s religious belief is not a factor in admitting him or her to public senior high schools that were founded by religious groups, I think we have made some progress.
We owe it to each other, whatever our faiths, to find the common threads that unite us rather than harp on the religious differences that exist between us.’
These core truths remain, even if occasionally there are some pressure points or flashpoints regarding some adherents of the two religions.
After all, as our elders say, even the tongue and the teeth, lying together in the mouth since the beginning of time, do clash from time to time.
We have to keep working at building what we have and which other nations have not been able to hold on to, at great social cost.
There are still a few days to go to the end of Lent.
I know some of my Muslim friends have targeted Easter Sunday and will be shouting hallelujah that day, just as I shouted ‘barka da sallah’ last weekend.
I imagine they are scheming and conspiring to invade my home that day for a hefty Easter lunch and some celebrations.
Of course, that is how it should be — one healthy invasion deserves another.
I am looking forward to the Eid al-Adha festivities later in the year, when meat will be shared.
My wonderful Muslim friends should kindly take note.
Rodney Nkrumah-Boateng.
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Source:
www.graphic.com.gh