Islam and my Neighbour, the Afghan

The Afghan family downstairs is a nice family. Whenever I meet the hard-working father, I offer him the Muslim greeting of peace – “as-salaamu `alaykum” (peace be upon you). He responds in kind “wa `alaykum salaam” (and upon you be peace)

Once when we left our flats for work at the same time, he offered me a lift, I declined, but he was kind and I appreciated it.

Not so long ago, I met him at the Friday congregational prayer that is compulsory on all Muslim males. We spotted each other and offered peace with big smiles. It was a nice moment. We’d lived together a long time in the same block of flats in London, but had never encountered each other at jumu’ah before this day.

There is a downside though. (This wouldn’t be Suspect Paki without a downside, would it?( His family does make a lot of noise. Now he does have kids. Young, noisy kids. And you really have to let that go. Kids are going to be kids. At least they’re not blasting music at night and I have rarely heard a peep from them after midnight. Allah be praised for that blessing.

It’s the banging of doors that drives me mad. Drives my family mad too.

I’m hugely averse to sudden bangs. It really upsets me. It’s a throwback to my childhood, and I won’t offer detail, but let’s just say that doors being slammed bother me greatly. And boy do they slam the door a lot. And the whole building shakes. And I shake. And I grit my teeth and put up with it.

Last Saturday it got too much. I couldn’t take it anymore, a bang is a bang, but they were banging with abandon. 10, 15, 20 bangs. I wanted to bang my door. I wanted to swear. I wanted to go down and kick his door in, but I calmed myself and asked myself “how should a Muslim respond?”

Normally I’d write a sarcastic note. That’d get me nowhere fast. It has got me into arguments. Sometimes heated ones. I usually charm my way out of those, disarm and make friends. It works more often than not. I breathed.

Then I wrote a firm, polite and very respectful note and left it for him after he’d gone out with the family. I addressed him as brother and humbly requested that he stopped slamming the door.

And this is where I’d expect to be ignored, or shouted at.

He responded like a Muslim. He apologised on the reverse of the same note, he offered an explanation, he offered a solution and they’ve been quiet since.

There are two things I really appreciate. Manners, and the way Islam has modified my character. Islam is still working on me of course, but it pleases me no end that it was Islam that helped two neighbours to get along a little better in a block of flats in London. God bless you brother, may He reward you in this life and the next.

And my teeth are no longer gritted.

Alhamdulillahi rabb il`alameen.

Tagged as: Islam, Muslims, neighbours