The Islam Festival Edinburgh (IFE) has been running for many years in Edinburgh at Edinburgh Central Mosque. It’s a small gesture on behalf of the Muslim community to open our doors literally and metaphorically to the wider community. While trying to put the word out and publicise the IFE this year, we pushed some of our Facebook posts out to a bigger audience. Unfortunately one of our posts was met with a storm of abuse and hatred. There is no need to reproduce those comments here, but suffice to say it was the usual right-wing stuff like “go back home” and “keep Islam out of the West.” This is by no means the first time this has happened, but it seems that in the current climate these voices have become louder and more emboldened.
Then a few days ago, a beloved elder of the Muslim community passed away. I didn’t know her personally but I know her sons and daughters in law and appreciate all the efforts they have made in serving the community for decades. Many people turned out for her funeral prayer in Central Mosque on Saturday 23rd August, a testimony to how much she was loved and respected. Aunty Suriya Ali was known best as the person who established Edinburgh Fabrics. On the business’s website it says: “Established in 1980 – we are a small family business aiming to provide our customers with a personal touch. We stock almost everything for the home dressmaker, quilter or craft person.” I happened to look at the Edinburgh Fabrics Facebook page. At the top was a post which brought tears to my eyes – see below.
The post itself was sad, but it was not that that hit me most. I started looking at the dozens of comments in response to the post. There were, of course, the standard Muslim condolences that you would expect and then there was a host of beautiful messages from the many customers who had frequented the shop over the years. I’ll just share 3 here:
“I am so very sad to be hearing this. Please accept my deepest condolences. I moved to Edinburgh 1997 – couldn’t sew but loved wondering around the shop in awe of the treasure trove of fabrics, colours. But it’s fair to say I was more in awe of Mrs Ali and her friends/customers always chatting non stop – holding up this fabric, that fabric for the next Sari or Shalwar Kamiz – I loved the chat of these ladies even though I didn’t know what they were saying! Their friendship was clear as was their excitement about the new outfit they were planning! I credit my grandmother and Mrs Ali’s shop for motivating me to learn to sew. Rest in peace, and much love to you all xx”
“I’m very sorry to hear your sad news. She was a wonderful woman who I admired greatly. May she rest in peace, and my heartfelt condolences.”
“Sorry for the loss of such a strong independent woman. Condolences to all the family. x.”
Reading these posts not only brought tears to my eyes, it gave an insight into the life of a special woman and beyond that, the life of a community. It is in places like fabric shops that connections are built and barriers are broken down.
The comments also raise the question of how we will be remembered when our time comes to depart. Of course, we all want the prayers of our Muslim brothers and sisters, but will other people who interacted with us have anything good to say? If we have customers or colleagues at work how do we treat them? What would our neighbours say about us?
We have many faults as a community and there is a lot more that we could do to contribute to society. But we shouldn’t underestimate the impact that small day to day dealings have on people. Some people may not like or recognise it, but Muslims are part of the fabric of society.