Dear Muslim Child
Dear Muslim Child
Dear Muslim child,
Did you know that your birth was meant to be?
Before Allah spoke the universe into existence,
He wrote and nestled your name between ours
Then the earth slowly turned
Until the chosen hour of your birth.
In Dear Muslim Child, Rahma Rodaah writes an ode to Muslim children around the world. The cover, beautifully illustrated by Aya Ghanameh, depicts a circle of Muslim children lying on the ground with a diverse representation of gender and race, as well as some children wearing traditional Islamic clothing, like the thobe for boys and the hijab for girls. This diversity continues throughout all the pages of the book, and it is very refreshing to see. The page that talks about the beauty of hijab portrays flying hijabs that merge into one another which powerfully illustrates the interconnectedness of the Muslim sisterhood. The illustration also does a great job of depicting the ways that women practice the hijab across different cultures, from niqabs to turbans to the simple wrap-around.
The amount of words on the page are the perfect amount to balance the illustration and text. The vibrant yet warm colours set a cozy atmosphere for any reader, and the text is truly a pleasure to read. I particularly love the repetition of the kite at the beginning and end, which symbolizes freedom and courage. At a time where Islamophobia is high and, in particular, misconceptions of Muslim girls being “oppressed”, I found that this contrasted with the child holding the kite and sends a powerful message that we can reclaim our identities by finding the courage to be openly Muslim. Whether that’s praying publicly at the park, taking pride in your name and ancestral heritage, or putting on the headscarf, Dear Muslim Child creates a safe space for Muslim children to feel seen and validated. The concept of being created with a purpose wraps full circle in the book, creating a satisfying flow rooted in Islamic teachings.
I also love the way, after being bullied and teased by other children, the pages transition to prayer and remind the child that they are part of a whole and to embrace forgiveness and hope. I think it is a very authentic representation of the way that prayer heals and recharges Muslims. Wudu (pre-prayer wash) is not only prescribed before prayer but also when one feels angry or hurt. Seeking strength from God when we feel the most vulnerable and leaning on community care are very important values in Islam that I feel were very well portrayed in this book.
Since this book takes a poetic approach, I don’t believe a child will be able to fully comprehend this text alone, even if they are being read to. I particularly found the page on our names being vessels a little complex in its syntax choice and phrasing. However, I definitely see this book resonating with a wide age range for this very reason with the younger children asking what certain words and concepts mean and the older children being able to discuss further implications. While really young children will be able to appreciate the illustrations and resonate with some lines, they may find it difficult to resonate with the more advanced poetic nature of this book.
Overall, this book is a staple to have in community spaces, libraries and schools. The title, in of itself, Dear Muslim Child and the beautiful cover automatically make Muslim children feel more seen and welcomed. The illustrations weave beautifully with the poetry to empower Muslim children to learn more about their faith and to feel more confident in their identities.
Bayan Saidam is a second year English and Economics student at Huron University College and a former Children's Literacy Mentor at the London Public Library in London, Ontario.