April 2008 Archives

Go on have a guess.... After Christianity and Atheism, its the largest religion in the UK...

Now when I asked educated people in Sutton Coldfield this a few years ago as part of a week long survey that was being done, the average figure was around 15%. Some particularly well educated fellows put the figure as high as 40% - but they were just special.

Well, sorry to disappoint, but its only a whopping 3% of the population, or in real terms - 2m of the 67m folks that we share this green and pleasant land with.

Great news from Home Secretary Jacqui Smith then, when she confirmed last week that they're not all benefit scrounging bomb toting parasites and have contributed over £3bn to the national economy in the last 12 months alone. On top of that, they are also harbouring over 10,000 millionaires in their midst. I am still trying to smoke them out to interest them in funding the Muslim Writers Awards 2009, but I think it will take special branch to find this lot...

Having said that though, Birmingham's has its fare share of these millionaires and I must admit, with only a few exceptions, they are a thoroughly good bunch. Its easy to criticise and say they could do more, but they do seem to be trying to play their part and plan a long game to really impact the communities around them.

You could at this point accuse me of just a tad bit of bias as I'm knocking their doors for dosh....but really! Me? Biased? I'm about as objective, detached and irreverent as they come...can't buy my love sir.

Unless of course you are reading this, have lots of spare cash, a big heart and you want to fund the Muslim Writers Awards 2009....

Just kidding... We are actually in the rather enviable position of having to fight off funders and choose who we want! Interestingly though, none of them are Muslim owned businesess!

I guess it was inevitable. A new baby, work stress and the Awards was enough to just tip me over the edge.

By Sunday night, I was starting to cough and splutter and feel feverish. By Wednesday night is was all over. Now I'm not much of one to see a doctor but this was one of the very rare occasions that I was forced to by the ferocity of my symptoms. Little did I know that they would also tell me that I am highly over stressed and should have a week off work to relax before my blood pressure boils over. Then the usual happened. They prescribed antibiotics and I smiled submissively and left the room. I think I've still got the prescription somewhere...

Instead, I call my homeopath. He never lets me down. Now I have a very real love/ hate relationship with these natural remedies. I don't understand how they work and the explanations always given defy any logical science. This angers my rational self immensley.

But in a powerful tension with this anger is the indisputable truth of personal experience which rudely interjects everytime my rational self attempts to lay judgment down upon it. Homeopathy cured me of my arthritis 4 years ago after every rheumatologist in the land had examined and drugged me. And they have worked on my infant kids astoundingly well for the last decade.

So in these moments of weakness when the doctor can't prescribe anything more potent than tyrozet throat lozenges or more imaginative than antibiotics, I turn to my homeopath.

After explaining the symptoms, he is sure that what I need is 'Hepar Sulph' - whatever that is. But alas, I have run out! So I call back and ask if there is an alternative...'Just sniff the empty bottle like you were doing crack, into each nostril, as hard as you can' was the reply.

Amazingly - it worked. After a coughing fit lasting the whole day that regularly ended in retching and mock vomiting, it just stopped. I lay down and finally got some sleep.

I just sat there the following day sucking up the white powder as if my life depended on it. Just have to hope that when the kids grow up and learn about drugs, they don't think back to some distant memory when they saw their father snorting mysterious white stuff whilst shaking uncontrollably from cold sweats and fevers.

I think I will have some explaining to do.

By which time of course, Birmingham's Muslim community has either descended into guns, gangs and perpetual violence as the drug capital of the western world, or more optimistically, has risen up successfully to reject tribalism and all its associated poisons to realise its vast creative, political and economic might.

Neither future, like my illness, is inevitable. I betrayed the rights that my body has over me. It was my choice to do that and so I paid the inevitable price of illness. We still have a chance to honour the rights that our young people have over us, before we pay an inevitable and deadly price...

So after the baby was born I had 2 weeks of paternity leave to enjoy it. And what a fortnight it was!

Great news from the office that we had just won a new contract to help young people into work across the whole of Brum and getting used to sleepless days and nights again, seemed to wipe out the first week pretty fast. But sleep deprivation is somehow manageable when you are staring into the eyes of a beautiful baby boy (who is now called Yunus).

By week 2, we were only 6 days away from the Muslim Writers Awards 2008. Jermaine Jackson was due to touch down in 4 days and there was still the small matter of a 1000 people black tie live televised awards show to pull off.

But pull it off we did!

Almost 1000 people filled the room of the ICC on 29th March, dressed impeccably and buzzing with excitement. 5 hours later, after an eclectic mix of singing, speaking, movie trailers, a Moroccan feast and awards galore, I closed the evening with some well chosen words and a great sigh of relief. The lights went down, the cameras stopped and I stepped down from the podium to greet my family.

After absorbing the praising crowd and my sons warm hug, I made my way back to the Radisson hotel for the after dinner party with Jermaine. As you can see, we were all rather knackered!

I whipped out my guitar and sung a jubilant song of love to God...To which most people rolled their eyes and carried on talking to themselves.

The next morning, I had the pleasure of taking Jermaine and his lovely wife Haleema back to London. With the two of us at the front, I had him almost all to myself to ask endless questions about everything. They are the most humble and down to earth multi-millionaires I have ever met. Both Jermaine and Haleema exude an overflowing fountain of kindness, humour and humanity. I couldn't think of a nicer pair to bestow wealth and influence on for the benefit of mankind. Truly inspirational!

Now of course, I cannot share our private conversation here, but when I asked if he would play acoustic bass on my debut album (which has been pending since 1993), he said 'of course' and that his studios in LA should be ready soon and that when the band is ready, we should swing by and make a record!

I am sure I dreamt all of that but if it ever comes true....we could be the new Jackson 5! Whatever....

This has got to have been the most eventful 4 weeks of my life...so much so...I've got to do it in parts!

On March 16th my wife gave birth to a perfectly perfik baby boy. Weighing in at just under 9lbs with all fingers and toes and bits in place, we had not a worry in the world. Which is quite a contrast to our state just 7 hours earlier...

My wife was giving it some in the early stages of labour when in walks the grotesque and incomprehensible village idiot, otherwise known as the 'junior doctor'. I make no apologies for my vitriolic fervour against them as I am writing not as a professional, but as plain ol' punter that is thoroughly p***** off!

Time and time again, the village idiots would wonder in, have a gander and then proceed to tell us in that lovely doctor type of way that, if we don't act now, our baby might die because he is already 16 days over the due date and the labour wasn't 'progressing' according to their timetable.

They desperately tried to coerce us into having an induced labour via a synthetic hormone. We had done our research, discussed it with 20+ mums who had recently used it, and had specified in our birth plan that we categorically didn't want it. But did that stop them?

One after another, they came in with a 'new' piece of evidence. 'If your baby ingests the meconium stool, he could die instanteously'. 'Look at the heart rate, it dipped twice in the last 10 hours and could mean that he will be still born'.

I mean really! Did they have to be so bloody blatant! Its only because I've grown up around doctors and know what arses most of them are that I could just ignore them. But my good lady was in a rather emotional state and being told that she is being irresponsible while in the throws of labour, I suggest are not the best bedside manners?

It wasn't until the new shift change and a blonde haired village idiot decided it was time for a c-section that I demanded to see our consultant.

Minutes later...enter the first Doctor we had met in the Womens Hospital ever. Mr Piri is the don of all dons.

He listened and he actually looked like he was listening. He talked to us like adults that had half a brain and he laughed at and apologised for the village idiots and their scare tactics.

Everything he said is a matter of weighing out risks. All that was said to us was true, but how it was presented to us made it entirely false. The probabilities of all these things going wrong were miniscule and should not therefore be used a means to make grand decisions like a c-section, when our birth plan had specified this to be a route of last, last resort.

To cut a long story short, she had a perfectly natural delivery, the baby was 'blissing out' on milk in no time and I, was thoroughly exhausted.

The whole thing was a great experience. We had fought the village idiots with 4 children and finally won the battle. So my advice is: By-pass the village idiots completely and demand to see your consultant as soon as you go in. It's your right!