That little green mushollah
It literally means little green masjid or green prayer house. This particular mushollah was just a small, simply built village mushollah and it was painted green.
Through the years, it has been given fresh new coats of paint (Hence the clean look). However the mushollah’s comittee that manages it, maintain its original color, green.
My kids and I, we refer to it as that “little green mushollah” . It has its own official name of course, (forgive me) for I don’t remember it.
This was the village that kept lots of bitter secrets and sweet memories for me.
I first step foot into this mushollah in 1995. That was the year my firstborn was accepted into one of the most prestigious Islamic school in the city, located in that village.
It was a long drive to get to that school, up and down the hills. Passing through endless village homes that were sparsely scattered along the winding road.
Countless times, I was sure that we had lost our way for the only sight was a palm plantation on our right and wooden village houses on our left.
Coming from a well developed country, this trip seemed like a trip down the past for all of us. We gazed in wonder at each passing view, the quaint wooden homes, the small village grocery, the palm plantation and occassional vegetable farms.
Twice, we spotted a villager way ahead and made a quick stop, to ask for directions to the school.
It was almost zuhur and mak was obviously agitated, asking,
“Where do we pray?”
that’s when that little green mushollah appeared right ahead of us.
Mak gets all upset if we didn’t pray on time so we had to stop here to offer solah… Duh!
Above is a picture of my sweet girlfriend, walking down the hill towards the green mushollah taken last year (July 2019). ” You walk in front” I commanded her. “Don’t look back” I snapped when she tried to turn her head to be sure that I’m walking behind her.
She knew I love to stop unannounced just so I could take pictures of the scenery.
I wanted to take a picture of that little green mushollah, with her in as my prop. Some kind of a great friend I am, right? I know.
It was during this recent visit that I learned,
this little green mushollah has since been accepting Jum’ah prayers
It had received the official aknowledgment from the higher Islamic authority, granting them this privlege.
I think that’s awesomely great news for it is rare for a small village mushollah be granted this access to hold weekly Friday prayer. I remembered always asking myself out loud, “why is there isn’t any masjid in this village?”
I dreaded, each time I have to drive my son to the masjid in another village just so he could join in the Friday prayer.
I would be the only woman who did that and I always became the centre of attraction of these two villages. (The dilemma of a young, niqabi single mom living in a small village)
There are several other mushollah in that village but surprise surprise, this little green mushollah’s muadzin call to azan is the only one I could hear far way from my home.
I always wonder why
Perhaps its the voice of the muadzin or that this little green mushollah has better sounding microphone and loud speaker, I will never know.
What about you? Which mushollah that you have prayed in brings fond memories for you. Tell me in the comments, I’d love to hear .