Blogs

Nasra, My Latest Daughter I notice Nasra sleeping on her back, arms raised, as if in surrender, her torso exposed to the elements, a stone throw away from the Khoja mosque here in Dar es Salaam. There is no air-conditioner, no fan, of course. There is no mattress. No pillow. No blanket. no mosquito net…

Such Is Life I must visit India and Bangladesh, to hell with the bloody Doodoo. It’s been over a year since I was there; compliance audits for CAI projects in both countries await me. I especially long to meet the 200 Rohingya orphans at their ramshackle camp outside Cox’s Bazaar, Bangladesh, again. CAI donors have…

Felled By Two Accursed M’buus Let me relate to you the story of two m’buus, may Allah curse them until the day of reckoning. Now, you cannot hurry me up. This story must be told at my pace, the way I want it. So, I suggest you make yourself a cup of chai, or coffee,…

So, I’m in steamy, soupy Dar es Salaam at the moment, settling in for a few months so that I can do justice to the ongoing CAI projects. It is the first time in almost a year that I fly Emirates. The airline has suddenly become overly generous, extending my Platinum tier miles for two…

Mullah Mchungu And The Super Bowl I am well rested from my trip to East Africa where cases of the Doodoo are on the up and up once again, especially in Tanzania. The increase in the death toll within the Khoja community in Dar es Salaam has prompted the powers-to-be to be extra vigilant and…

An orphan’s Baba I am done with the fun and adventure in Vietnam and Cambodia, and although my injured leg from the bicycling accident in Vietnam is still giving me throbbing intermittent grief, I find myself, accompanied by fellow CAI Trustee Sohail Abdullah on an airplane heading to Kabul. Joining us are well-wishers Shaida from…

Happy New Year? The year 2020 is history. Unprecedented in the misery and death it spewed. I don’t believe my ancestors going back 100 years experienced anything like this past year, where the very air we breathe is suspect. Friends and family greet me on New Year’s Day with a chirpy happy new year and…

This COVID doodoo is creating so much havoc in my life, I feel it is the ‘greater jihad’ that the maulanas keep on reminding me from the pulpit. Murtaza Bhimani and I try to take off for Kampala from Dar but the Center for Disease Control in Dar works on their own leisurely pace and…

I am on my way to Africa. It’s to Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda this time. CAI donors have invested in multiple projects in Kenya and we must make sure all these are defect-free. In Tanzania, I’ll commission the new Sakina Girls Home in Zanzibar, caring for orphan girls with total care and an opportunity for…

I have known the Kutchi family for years; indeed, I went to high school with Ameer Khuchi in Tanga, Tanzania at the Popatlal Secondary School. It was a family not unlike mine then, or any other middle-class family of Asian Khojas whose ancestors made East Africa home. Ameer Kutchi was an athlete, a good cricketer,…

My cellphone with Mullah Mchungu’s name flashes about a minute after CNN calls the duo of Kamala Harris and Joe Biden as victors of the 2020 US presidential elections. I am glued to the idiot box the last three days, breaking only for salaat, sleeping off and on, using the loo, or working out; I…

The Land Of The Imams – II Since my last Blog riled the fiery feathers of a solitary fan because I used a supposed curse word (shit), I have decided to be super-nice and script only the nicest of words for Sohail’s and my second leg of our current trip; from Afghanistan to Iraq via…

Sohail Abdullah, my colleague and Senior Trustee for CAI, and I are traveling to Afghanistan for our semi-annual compliance audit of the very many CAI active projects in the country. This is my 45th trip to this overwhelmingly depressing and very challenging country that albeit has a special place in my heart. Traveling long distance…

My Tears Of Blood – Asma’s Story – Lest We Forget. I circulated the following Blog in December 2018. I am republishing an updated version now to keep the Rohingya tragedy and genocide alive with us – lest we forget. Little has changed in the two years since, except the ‘temporary’ camps begin to look…