Muslim women and their bodies: one of the most talked-about topics of the decade. Muslims however, seem to be caught in this awkward position between the openness and vitality of the Sunnah and our own socio-culturally imposed taboos, which make it difficult for Muslim women to grapple with physical and sexual problems, just one amongst them being: Breast Cancer. We are taught to be modest in our behavior and dress, but this has somehow become construed to mean that we need to be prudish to the point where speaking candidly and honestly about factors which impact our bodies is a no-no, and even worse, is if a Muslim woman (oh the shame!) were to express sexual dissatisfaction.

Initiatives like Pink Hijab Day are doing much to counter these inhibitions.

Islam is a remarkably unpretentious religion on issues of body and sex (although in practice Muslims may not necessarily be so). The body, particularly the bodies of women, are not seen as shameful and sinful entities (in theory), nor is sexuality seen as a necessary evil. The vitality of the tradition is noted especially in the importance given to women’s physical satisfaction during intimacy.

Breast-feeding is a highly valued practice in Islam, as is motherhood on the whole. In the first part of a beautiful verse in the Qur’an, Allah recounts the story of the mother of Musa (as), saying:

“So We sent this inspiration to the mother of Moses: ‘Suckle (thy child) … ” (Q, 28:7)

Here, Allah himself states that He inspired Musa’s (as) mother (which incidentally, forms part of a larger discourse which classical scholars engaged in about the Prophethood of women, some believing the “inspiration” in this verse to be indicative of it) to suckle her child. Need we say any more about the Divine significance of breast-feeding?

Islam is also amenable to concepts like wet-nurses, and actually bases kinship on these relationships – the Prophet Muhammad’s (saw) own wet-nurse, Halima Sa’diyya (ra) was revered and beloved to him till the end of his life.

A narration comes to us from A’isha (ra), who used to praise women of the Ansar in the following words, “How good were the women of the Ansar that they did not shy away from learning and understanding religious matters” (Muslim), referring particularly to matters of intimacy and ritual purity.

So, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month, to survivors and victims of the illness and to Muslim women at large – I say, there is no shame in religion to speak unreservedly about problems we face as women – as our historical counterparts and benefactors have taught us.

The workshop we conducted was part of a weekend camp that was organized for the girls. These camps form a small getaway holiday for the girls as well as fostering the bonds of sisterhood, bringing together revert girls from different townships. To see girls as young as 12 years old taking to the faith in such a determined way was awe-inspiring, they had left behind their families and everything they knew, to join a religion and way of life worlds apart from their upbringing.

The only reason I had agreed to do this workshop, is because the organizer made it clear that the aims of his Da’wah project is to give these girls a better chance at life, by motivating them into tertiary education and careers which would benefit society in the long run. I am obviously not a fan of a number of token Da’wah organizations who bring women into Islam and shut them out from the rest of the world, leading them to believe they must lead cloistered lives, and that the ultimate success of a pious Muslimah is – marriage. Of course, marriage forms a crucial support structure for new Muslimah’s, but it is certainly not the outcome of what being a Muslimah means. Unfortunately I have come face-to-face with a few groups like these, too often.  Forcing people into Islam by feeding them and then expecting them to buy into an Indianized religion with traditions which have no basis in the religion is not Da’wah. Da’wah – or calling to Islam, calling to Peace and Submission, is a call to a better life which betters society at large. It should be a beautiful calling, resonating with humility and sincerity, and certainly not with a hand-me-down attitude. My particular gripe is with Da’wah amongst women – Islam empowers women, as we Muslims love to say – and I was so impressed to witness how the Imaan Centre was doing just that – empowering these young girls to become strong, confident Muslim women, with so much to offer the world.

The face of township Islam is rapidly changing – a vibrant and energetic Islamic spirit is sprouting up – yet some of these environments are not conducive to bringing up Muslim children, with the rife spread of promiscuity, alcohol and violence. The Imaan Centre provides a safe haven for these girls – whilst not cutting them off from the real world – to the contrary, preparing them to face it.

Our presentation was initiated with introductions and each girl had to speak about herself and her interests. The first activity was a self-development one. After handing each participant a card, I asked them to write out their own obituary. This is a powerful reflective exercise – getting each participant to introspect deeply about their lives and what they wish to achieve by the end of it – always bearing in mind, that Allah is the best of planners. I watched with delight as each girl poured herself into the task – I could see them thinking and feeling, intensely.

Then, we moved on to the team-building exercise – one of my favorites. The larger theme of the camp was the “role of Muslim women in society”. I presented a 15 minute talk to them on my construction of the ideal Muslim women, based on the emblematic qualities of Mercy, Modesty, Confidence, Patience and Sincerity. Each quality I framed around a great women of our history, particularly Nusayba (ra) and Khadija (ra). Then, we asked them, to draw their own idea’s of the defining qualities the ideal Muslimah. It is always fascinating to see what people come up with when trying to express abstract concepts in pictures. Each drawing was original and depicted some virtue about Muslim women which the girls thought were imperative, particularly “education”, “kindness”, “love” and “sisterhood”.

The concluding activity was a short one – each girl partnered with someone she did not know very well, facing each other and holding hands, they had to repeat to each other “I love you for the sake of Allah”, staring into the others eyes without giggling. I got to partner 11 year old Aisha – and it was a beautiful moment!

What struck me most was the time and sacrifice made by the organizer, Shaykh Shaukat, who could have been anywhere else that weekend, yet there he was, with a bunch of boisterous teenage girls, inculcating in them devotion to Allah, love His Prophet (saw) and motivation to seek knowledge.

I urged them to keep the cards they had written their obituaries on, and to look at them months and years down the line and introspect further. Each girl had some idea of what she wanted to be when she grows up – from pilots to scholars. I’m sure as time passes, some of these will change and be replaced by other aims, the important thing though, is that they have the ability to dream, and a means of achieving those dreams through the work of the Da’wah centre.

As Muslim woman – we need to reach out, and reach into the hearts of our sisters, so I was very delighted to receive a text message from Shaykh Shaukat the next day asking us to please conduct more workshops for them, and indicating that the girls had all voted Khadija and I as excellent presenters May Allah accept!

Firstly, she was the daughter of Umar (ra), the second Caliph and a dear companion to the Prophet (saw), and a sense of her character, which seeps through the various narrations, indicates that like him, she was strong-willed, bold and outspoken. Incidentally, she also inherited some of his famed temper. She loved her father very dearly, and it is narrated that she wept incessantly at his death. (Sahih Bukhari)

Hafsah (ra) was literate, a great feat indeed, for anyone, man or woman, of her time. It is narrated that she was instructed by Shifa’ bint Abdullah (ra), another woman who deserves much accolade, who also taught  Hafsah some medicinal healing. (Musnad, Imam Ahmad) The point being – the Prophet (saw), illiterate himself, had in his household, an educated woman.

The most striking aspect of Hafsah’s (ra) life, for me, is that she was entrusted with the only existing manuscript of the Qur’an, after the passing of Umar (ra). This, I believe, is where we need to pause, and reflect.

The Qur’an is the essence and integral of Islam, it is the scripture, the basis for law and the spiritual nexus of the religion. It’s centrality in Islam is pivotal – Islam, as a way of Being, rests on the very existence of the Qu’ran. History tells us that after the death of the Prophet (saw), during the time of Abu Bakr (ra), the prominent companions feared the loss of the Qur’an (the culture being largely oral), due to the loss of many of its memorizers, and thus undertook to collate and compile the first Qur’anic manuscript. After Abu Bakr (ra), it was passed to Umar (ra), who left it to his daughter – Hafsah (ra). (Sahih Bukhari)

Umar (ra) is often criticized as having being overly harsh when it came to issues about women, and in some cases, rightfully so. Yet, despite himself, he decided that the one person in the entire Medinan community, comprising of many prominent male companions who were still alive, whom he could impart the only written Qur’an to, was a woman: Hafsah (ra). This, coupled with the fact that she could read and write, and hence, was a person worthy of the manuscript, sheds light on many misunderstood gender notions in Islam. Yes, she was an exception to the general circumstance, but change, I believe, rests on the shoulders of those in our history who were exceptional.

Hafsah (ra) is also known to have memorized the Qu’ran , adding to her credentials as it’s benefactor. She was thus, not just the keeper of the Qur’an – she had the mental tools to appreciate and make use of it. In fact, there is also a somewhat controversial narration that she, together with A’isha (ra) advised a scribe on the recitation of a particular verse which differed with other accounts. (Muwatta, Imam Malik), and some other traditions mention that in addition to the Qur’anic manuscript compiled under Abu Bakr’s (ra) commission, she had her own compilation. (Abu Dawud) These finer details here, are irrelevant, the bigger picture being that she had in her possession, a weighty and precious entrustment.

When the third Caliph, Uthman (ra) wished to produce copies of the original manuscript, he requested it from Hafsah (ra), explicitly mentioning that he would return it to her. (Sahih Bukhari)

It is known that she fiercely protected her copy of the Qur’an, refusing to relinquish it to the governor, Marwan, who ruled during the last years of her life. (Abu Dawud)

The role of this one woman in preserving the Qur’an in Muslim history is significant. From the Qur’an she so treasured, all other subsequent copies were produced, as we have it today, universal in its appeal and eternal in its message. There is much we can take from her story – as an active member of her society, she contributed to the perpetuation of Islam, at one of the highest levels. She, as a woman, was not just a “keeper” of the Qur’an, she is proof that woman held positions of esteem, for what greater rank can there be than to be the custodian of the one and only compilation of the Qu’ran, in a society built on that very text. She is also proof of the irrelevance of gender in matters of spiritual status and religious affairs, as opposed to transactional and contractual situations, where contextual differences are noted. What this story also reflects is that women had, and should have access to the Qur’an at all levels, as reciters,  interpretors, safeguards, teachers and interlocutors of its message.

Not only was Hafsah (ra) a wife of the beloved Prophet (saw) and the daughter of the great Umar (ra), but a woman in and of her own right – Imra’atul Qur’an – a woman of the Qur’an.

It is very saddening to witness the rate of illiterate and uneducated Muslim women in the world today, given the precedence of woman like Hafsah (ra) in our tradition, and even more disheartening is the waning culture of Haafidhat (female memorizers of the Qu’ran). In my own journey with the Qu’ran, in committing it to heart and memory, a blessed source of inspiration is the famed Mushaf Hafsah.

It was Friday, an auspicious day for Muslims and the facility was packed, before the 2010 Fifa World Cup Opening Match which would make history for being the first on African soil.

At said salaah facility (generously organized and well executed by Muslim donors and volunteers) I witnessed with rising anger, so many men and women who normally “oppose” women’s participation in the mosque, quickly adapt their positions to suit their soccer frenzy.

I would like to pose a question to everyone who attended – did you notice any women luring and seducing men before, during or after the Salaah? I personally did not. What I did witness, was men and women who wanted to pray. Period.

After a long and very informative chat with Imam Wadee, who led the salaah before the kick-off, I realized that small steps like these, taken by organizers and community leaders like himself, are the only way to ultimately show people, realistically, that the skies will not open up and rain down punishment on men and women who pray in congregation in the masjid or other public places. Imam Wadee explained to me, that although a separate tent was set up for the women, he took the initiative to designate the space behind the men for the women. The whole barrier/partition, in his words – did not exist during the Prophet’s (PBUH) time, and is an innovation.

South African Muslims are amongst the most free to practice their religion in the world, and to engage to all sorts of other social, political and economic activities…yet women in Johannesburg and other Deobandi-run masaajid are not allowed to attend, or are allowed to do so “conditionally”.

I don’t believe there are any conditions for a women’s attendance and participation in the masjid, which is the pivotal center of a Muslim community. It should be open and welcoming to every human being. Its time we started living up to the Sunnah we are so quick to defend…the Prophet (PBUH) allowed a Christian man to complete urinating in his mosque…and some Muslims, in this day and age, bar believers from the house of worship.

So – let me get this straight – under normal circumstances, religiously-committed women who desire to benefit from the sanctity of the masjid and the unity of prayers in congregation cannot do so because they will distract and seduce men, but in other circumstances, such as a certain important soccer match, men and women can pray together, with no walls/curtains/partitions/barriers – do you not see the hypocrisy in this??

There were many in attendance at the World Cup Jumuah who support women’s participation in the masjid, and I hope they realize the importance of fighting hard for it. There were also many there, who I personally have come to loggerheads with on this issue, especially regarding the Eid Salaah – I would like to say to these people who stop their wives/mothers/daughters and other believing women from Allah’s house to stop being such hypocrites – if you truly believe that women have no place praying together with men, that a womens place “is in the home”, then you should not have been there, but since you were, please do some serious introspection and ask yourself that if women are so inherently evil and shameful, why did you stand with them in prayer to Allah?

I would also like to commend the organizers, the Imam and the participants for making it a successful Jumuah, and showing the community, practically, that men are not lust-hungry animals and women not evil-temptresses.

I am not a soccer fan – but I am a South Africa fan, and so, along with 86 000 others, was fortunate enough to attend the opening match of the cup.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know very well that capitalistic, consumerist and exploitative principles guide these kind of events, I also know that hedonism, intoxication and prostitution thrive during this time, and that the average man on the street does not really benefit from the proceedings. I know all these things, yet there is still something alluring about this time – I think it is the country spirit, with practically all South Africans coming together to support their team and country (and yes, I know nationalism carries within it a mechanism for its own self-destruction), I guess its just the “togetherness”, which has been acutely missing in our success story against apartheid.

I am, as this blog suggest, a “proudly South African Muslimah”, not because I am bounded by the borders of my country, not because of my race, religion or language, of which neither are indigenous to South Africa, but because I share joy in our triumph against injustice, because I hate racism, because I love Africa.

It was an electrifying feeling – being inside the stadium – yet I know how transitionary is was, and knew how quickly the euphoria would end – man made as it was. I wish South Africa all the best in this tournament, and I applaud our country for pulling off what the rest of the world thought Africa was not capable of – but I also hope that we all remember that this will come to an end, but our social problems will remain.

Today, the morning after Eid or the second day of Eid, depending on how you celebrate, has left me amazed, at the power of technology. I am receiving e-mails of the success of the campaign, congratulations and some hate-mail too. The word spread as far out as Mafikeng, where for the first time in the history of that town, women attended the Eid prayers.

Our campaign was inspired by a similar one carried out many years ago by veteran Muslim women activists, led by Farhana Ismail, who took to the streets, distributing thousands of pamphlets, similar to the one I posted previously. Friends and I had discussed launching a campaign for Eid-ul Adha (the festival of the sacrifice), but all thanks to a pro-active and very knowledgeable sister, Quraysha Yousuf, who is schooled in both the classical Islamic traditions as well as secular knowledge, we decided to use the last week of Ramadan to launch the campaign. Although I call it a campaign, it was not in any way coordinated as such. We relied on word-of-mouth, or rather, word-of-email, facebook and blogs.

On Eid, before the crack of dawn, my husband and I awoke together. He left the house to observe the Fajr (dawn) prayer at the masjid (mosque), whilst I said my prayer at home, having the power of choice to do so. We sometimes do the Fajr prayer together, but on Eid morning, I urged him to the masjid to participate in the congregation, not wanting him to miss out on the reward of doing so, on such a special day.  When he returned, together we readied ourselves for the Eid prayer, donning our best clothing, as is the custom of the Eid. Of course, I didn’t perfume or overly adorn myself, because we were going to pray. I would do so later, for the private family celebrations.

It was still dark outside, but the atmosphere of Eid and our shared preparation for the prayer gathering, lent our room a warm glow. In my heart, I was already saying the Takbir of Eid (litany of the greatness of God)

اللّهُ أكبر اللّهُ أكبر

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar
Allah is Great, Allah is Great

اللّهُ أكبر

Allahu Akbar
Allah is Great

لا إلَهَ الا اللّه

La illaha il Allah
there is no God, but Allah

اللّهُ أكبر اللّهُ اكبر

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar
Allah is Great, Allah is Great

و لِلّه الحمدَ

walilahil Hamd
to Him belongs all Praise

I opened our balcony door, and could already hear it over the loudspeaker from the Eid Musalla (open air field where the Eid prayers are said) in our neighbourhood, which unfortunately does not allow women to participate.

My husband and I would have to make the short drive to a near-by suburb which does facilitate women’s attendance. This prayer gathering is organized and co-ordinated by Masjid-ul-Islam (Mosque of Islam).  From my experience, this is one of the very few masaajid (mosques) in Johannesburg which affords women equal access, participation and respect as it does to men.

As we approached the field, I delighted in seeing so many men, women and children, dressed in their finest but modest attire, come out to thank Allah for the day He ordained as a celebration to us. (Muslims are crazy! We pray 5 times a day every day, but on our festive days, we pray 6 times!) As we made our way to the area laid out with mats for prayer, the men and women forked to the right and left, respectively, the children, some who were still wiping the sleep from their faces, could choose which parent they were most of fond of that morning.

Some congregations facilitate women behind the men; others separately but to the side, usually with a partition/screen in the middle, and yet others – in a totally separate area in space and distance. I am not averse to any of these settings, but prefer the first and second because they are in accordance with the practice of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) who never excluded women from the main congregation, not even with a curtain.

I have prayed in many masaajid around the world, most markedly are those which have no barriers between the men and women, the best example which is the third holy of holiest - Masjid- ul-Aqsa in Jerusalem. In Turkey at the famous SultanAhmet or Blue Mosque, women have the option of praying in the main prayer hall behind the men with no segregation except a thin rope, or they can opt to pray in the upstairs gallery, which overlooks the entire masjid. In the Ommayad masjid in Damascus, the same practice prevails. Even in Makkah, at the Haram (sanctuary), women have the option of praying in female-only screened-off areas, or family sections where the women line up behind the men.

At the gathering I attended, the fairer sex stand to the left of the men, completely separate but not severed from the congregation, whilst still adhering to the principles of Islamic modesty. This Eid the coordinators had appointed a woman to deliver a short lecture. Lucy-Bushill Matthews, a British con/revert to Islam of 20 years and author of the book, “A Converts Tale” inspired us for 15 minutes on the concept of “fitrah“, which in English can only best but not justly be defined as “a person’s natural inclination to God” or ” a person’s innate predisposition towards good.” It was as if Lucy had read my mind. I had been thinking throughout the past week about this idea of “fitrah“, in the face of all the discussion of women being the cause of a similar-sounding concept known as “fitnah” (evil/mischief/temptation) by men who oppose women’s presence in sacred spaces. I am very grateful to sister Lucy for reminding me about our inborn disposition for altruism, at a time when I was feeling particularly degraded as a women, by so-called religious men and their followers, who could not think of my gender as anything but a sex object not even worthy of entering Allah’s house.

After the talk, the Imam led us in the two ra’kat (units) of prayer, interspersed with the 12 takbeerat (proclamation of the greatness of Allah, signified by raising the hands to the ears/shoulders during prayer). Afterward, he gave the Eid Khutbah (sermon) in Arabic, which basically spoke about the significance of Eid, he then said a long and moving prayer, to which we all raised our hands in supplication to Allah. When he signalled that the proceedings were over, everyone stood up and began wishing each other “Eid Mubarak” (a blessed Eid). I love this part the most – when no matter who is sitting next to you, you embrace her with her sincerity, as your sister. After the men greet the men and the women the women, families proceeded to congratulate each other on having completed the month of fasting and the prayer of Eid.

As I greeted my husband and we exchanged prayers for each other, I thought to myself – we had both fasted, we had both stood for the long nightly prayers, we had both increased our adhkaar (remembrance of God), we had both read the Quran, we had both helped each other try to gain nearness to Allah, and so we both deserved to come out on Eid morning, and thank Allah for the day, as the Prophet (peace be upon him) and his followers, men and women, did a century and a half ago. I believe this right belongs to every person who observes Ramadan, not just the men. The women in most cases, deserve it more, for not only did they fulfil one of the pillars of Islam, they also prepared the futoor/suhoor (dawn/dusk meals) for their families and communities.

On our way home, I witnessed a marvellous sight. The Somali and Ethiopian Muslim communities had just completed their Eid prayers, and were leaving the area. Hundreds of women dressed in long, loose, brightly coloured clothing filled the streets. It was coolness to my eyes, and I was suddenly filled with hope.

May Allah preserve us to see another Ramadan and another Eid-al-Fitr, and may He give back to women their right of the Eid prayer that man has usurped (in some parts of South Africa at least).

Being taught by Sheikh Uwaisi, who learnt the Qasidah from a direct line of transmission to the author himself, was spiritually uplifting. It lasted about 7 hours, but not once did boredom or tiredness cross my mind, as every word he uttered, I vigorously wrote down and devoured with my mind. I thoroughly enjoyed experiencing the method of oral transmission, the traditional way of learning, since the time of the Prophet (saw), and having studied literary theory, participating in it practically was invaluable to me. At the end of the program, the Sheikh also gave Ijazah (permission) to everyone who attended, to teach the Qasidah to others, and bestowed on everyone the chain of transmission to the author, another traditional method of education, which also came as a lovely surprise. All in all, it was a most inspirational introduction to sufism for me. The Qasidah itself, I will blog about separately.

The only time I felt a little uncomfortable is when the Sheikh was negative towards Shi’is. Those boundaries don’t exist in my mind.

One thought that crossed my mind repeatedly throughout the class, was how welcomed, comfortable and at home I felt in the Turkish masjid, and the same, the previous night at the Iranian masjid, which also held a Maulood program in honor of the prophet (saw). The atmosphere was relaxed, yet spiritually charged at the same time. I thought repeatedly, about how, I have never set foot in my own neighborhood masaajid, in whose shade I grew up, how unwelcome I am there, and how I, as a women, am perceived to somehow sully the sacredness of the place. I found my heart bursting with appreciation to the Turks and Iranians, who have made it possible for me to mend the image of myself which my community had shattered, by relegating me to the home, and setting the masjid as off limits to my species. It also made me grateful to have lived abroad in the Middle East, where I could traipse in to any masjid, at any time, without anyone batting an eyelid.

Every year, we make mental, mobile, Google and diary notes to mark the birthdays of people close to us; our spouses, children, parents and best friends… we try to make their day special for them in any way, be it with gifts, cooking their favorite meals, or treating them with an outing. We thank Allah for the day which brought them into the world and into our lives.

Let us in the same way, honor the birthday (or birth month, as the exact date of birth is unknown) of the most beloved man to any Muslim. The month in which he, (saw) was born, changed the course of human history forevermore. Let us not trivialize it.

There is much controversy in the Muslim world, about whether or not the Mercy to Mankind’s’ birthday should be celebrated, and if so, how, and if not, why.
Yes, some people tend to go to extremes, and introduce innovations into the celebration, but before we wag a judgmental finger at anyone, try to understand their love for a man who lived 1400 years ago and try to understand their yearning to express that love.

The occasion of the Maulood is a perfect time to educate ourselves and those around us about Muhammad (saw) and his teachings; to be grateful for him and to appreciate all he has done for us. Indeed, the Maulood is a time for celebrating the life, not just the birth of the Prophet Muhammad (saw).

Let us, in this month, commemorate the magnitude of his achievements, revere the depths of his sorrows and solemnize the value of his sacrifices.

Let us revive his high esteem and respect for women, his kindness to children, his generosity to the poor, his tolerance of his enemies, his rapport with believers of other faiths, his gentleness with his wives, his endurance during trying times, his trust in friends, his astuteness in politics, his bravery in war, his ultimate submission to Allah.

Let us rejoice, during this time, to be of his followers. Let us dare to be his lovers, in a time when his message is so persecuted. Let us reminisce his blessed days.

During this month, get involved in your community, attend the programs held in honor of the Maulood, increase your remembrance of Allah and salutations upon the Chosen one. Read to yourself and your loved ones about the Seerah. Speak out against the abuse of women and children, political oppression, crime and pollution.

In between leaving Dubai and moving back to SA, hubby and I fulfilled one of our many dreams, Alhamdulillah.. we visited Iran. Two great weeks in one of the most enchanting, but misunderstood countries in the world has left me craving for more things Iranian! The food, architecture and most of all, the people, were so special and so inviting, that I really didn’t feel like leaving, until the Tehran pollution caught my throat that is.

We were invited into many a home, and also experienced Iranian national day, when millions of people take to the streets in Tehran, to support the Islamic revolution and the Islamic republic. The president, Mahmoud Ahmedinajad addressed the nation, and leaders from Islamic Jihad and Hamas also gave speeches. It was all in all a very exhilarating day, the crown throbbing with a fervent love for Islam. I promise more stories of Iran to follow soon, Insha-allah!

Now that I’m back, there is so much to do, so much to get involved in. In that way, its great to home, to be part of a wider, more active community, with the freedom to contribute socially, politically and economically! Elections are coming up soon, and it will my first time to cast a ballot, I am very excited!

Pray that all goes well for hubby and I, in our endeavours. Here are some pictures from the Iran trip, but I must add that none do justice to the true splendour of the country.