i had never really thought about it. but out of a sudden one night, i realised this. that my life has been pretty much revolved around mosques at almost every milestone of my life.

i went to a mosque kindergarten for two years. had to be my parents’ choice right, most probably my mother who made it her personal mission to let us her children had basic islamic knowledge growing up. (of course, out of 5, i had to be the one to have ‘full’ education in it)

even when i was growing up, i had siblings attending the same mosque kindergarten, and me playing the eldest sister role, i would be fetching them or waiting for them with or without my mother, pretty much feeling that hey this used to be my school too. i know where every space is. mother, being the socialite that she is, she already made friends with the people there and i think at some point, pretty much helped out at the cafe there. so the mosque at old tampines road seems to be our focal point in our growing up years. my siblings attended the weekend classes there…and yeah, as a family we attended talks now and then, those years. she would prepare some things for us, i would bring a book, sometimes those school revision books to fill my time if i don’t understand what was being taught, my little siblings would have a small toy to distract themselves, a drink, or whatever. going to the mosque was a serious ‘business’ trip for us. lol.

and then every ramadan, whenever we were able to, the whole family rushed to the mosque to perform terawih. i followed the congregation, my younger siblings might be sitting down at some corner, i don’t remember them running around or making themselves a nuisance. perhaps we are all used to the environment, we didn’t make a big fuss. even if whoever was a toddler then, mother would stop and comfort the little one before continuing her prayers. she pretty much had it figured out. when people are praying, we, the kids, had to practice some silence and behave in the mosque. i remembered night walks, from the mosque to home, and admire the semi detached houses along the way, had big dreams of owning one and then a trip to the 7-11 for a nice cold drink of our choice, maybe a chocolate or ice cream, as an ‘incentive’ for going to the mosque.

some time in my teenage years, i became a youth volunteer at another mosque at serangoon north. it was a new mosque at the time. similarly somehow mother made friends and became quite the familiar face there. having moved to a home closer to this mosque, we started attending there more frequently. going up and down the mosque does not feel so alien to me because of my childhood upbringing at the other mosque.

after my A levels and waiting for an opportunity to further studies, i had a stint as a kindergarten teacher, at yet, another mosque, in Ang Mo Kio. i couldn’t remember how i landed that job but i had a feeling mother had a hand in it. pretty much a second home then at the time, young and sweet (lol), having all the energy and creativity teaching bright- eyed inquisitive little ones. at a time, when parents still respected young teachers as me. i thought i would stay and take that career path. but i had another calling.

when i went away to study at IIU, the campus mosque was our qibla at every sense of the term. felt so much at ease just to be sitting inside the mosque. it’s a place to socialise, rest (yes, we took naps there in between classes), to study and revise (during exam weeks), of course the jemaah prayers. despite a big mosque, it seems like everyone can have their ‘special corner’ there. many of you (iiu-mates) can vouch for this, right?

completed studies, came back home a citizen raring to contribute back to the community. i found myself working at a religious institution. and…having the energy, all this knowledge ready to be shared and the sweet thrill of having an income, i worked at….another mosque, in Bishan. being re-introduced to the education world, again. and serving time as a docent at the specialised centre there.

and my true career took its direction head on when i applied for a job at the new mosque nearest to my home but literally just out of the neighbourhood. i had a short attachment at yet another mosque in Pasir Ris before being transferred fully to Sengkang’s mosque. and that’s where i resided for the next ten years. the place i became an adult. and fully gave my brain, body, heart and soul to it. and for awhile, when she was stronger then, mother, she volunteered around, even if it’s just to help me out tending to kids’ activities, she would.

really, my life pretty much revolved around mosques.

and throughout all these milestones, mother has always been the greatest supporter. every step of the way. i guessed she probably had a vision and let us grew up being ‘close’ to mosques. i can’t say for my siblings, but i never felt awkward or as an ‘outsider’ being at any mosques, regardless, local or overseas. it had always feel like ‘home’. if i ever get lost, i would probably go find a mosque, the closest image of familiarity or feeling safe.

so to mothers out there, who wish to have their children grow up feeling close to the mosque. it starts young really, cliché, yes but that’s just the way it is. but sending them for weekend classes may not be enough. be present, be a part of a mosque, pray at the mosque now and then, let your child be familiar, with you in the picture, at the mosque. and it’s not only during ramadan. no, please, don’t only come to the mosque during ramadan and realise you have to struggle with crying toddlers or screaming kids. it’s any time of the year really. it can be done. i have seen it. mothers who have so well behaved children at the mosques i wish i can give a ‘you’re a best mom’ trophy to them.

i guess i am living proof. the result of a mother who always brings her children to the masjid.

thank you mak for shaping me. i may not be what you dreamed of me to be, but i guess, what i am now, is the closest we got to, right?

hearts.