Aisha Salaudeen

Feb 7, 2024 | aishasalaudeen.info | Aisha Salaudeen

I wrote this while struggling with my eeman. Sometimes my faith slips away,  Like water seeping into dry earth,  Or the fajr prayer, missed in dawn’s hurried rush. It shifts, unpredictable,  In moments when my loosely tied hijab  Struggles to contain rebellious strands of hair.  In the silent hours of forgotten tahajjud,  Or beneath the buzz of my tattooist's steady needle. I wish my faith —  Were as constant as the sun’s arc,  Enduring, dignified,  Like an abaya worn with conviction and grace.

Jan 30, 2024 | aishasalaudeen.info | Aisha Salaudeen

Visual representation of my friend and IToo good for her own goodMy friend is a blooming rose,Radiating warmth and kindness all around. She keeps forgetting, over and over, Like a broken vinyl record,Not everyone is as soft and tender as her. She doesn’t see people for who they areBut for who they could become. She gives away pieces of herself, over and over,Like a song stuck on repeat. Until there’s nothing left for herself. Until her well becomes empty,And her own needs forgotten.

Jan 18, 2024 | aishasalaudeen.info | Aisha Salaudeen

"When the weather is fine" is one of my favorite Korean TV shows. When the weather is fineTwelve Sundays ago, when skies opened wide —Soaking the world outside my window. I stayed in the warmth of my couch,In the embrace of a new show. “When the Weather is Fine.”I wonder, Was the title a mirror to that day? Perhaps a subtle divine sign,A quiet assurance,That I too, deserve love, soft and kind,As tender as the bond on screen, so clearly defined. ***Thank you for taking the time to read this poem.

Jan 10, 2024 | aishasalaudeen.info | Aisha Salaudeen

Grandmother's warningWhen I was thirteen,My grandmother spoke of men whose shadows,Like hawks, circled unsuspecting borders,Carrying weapons bigger than their bodies. They would lay siege to the cities within me,Threatening the treasures I held dear. When I was eighteen,One shadow found its mark, Burning my insides hot,Reducing the homes on my flesh into rubble.

Aug 8, 2023 | aishasalaudeen.info | Aisha Salaudeen

Crazy. Unmannered. Stupid. In 2021, a random man hurled these words at me in a fit of anger. We were standing in line at the airport, getting ready to board a plane. A few minutes before this outburst of rage, he had made advances towards me, asking for my phone number and inviting me to his hotel room upon landing in Abuja, our final destination.