Adli Yacubi

Category: Uncategorized

  • Camissa: The River That Remembers Us

    Camissa: The River That Remembers Us

    Before streets and buildings, there was water. From Table Mountain, the Camissa River carried sweet waters that gathered peoples — Khoi, San, slaves, exiles — into a wider circle of becoming. Though buried under the city today, Camissa still flows, whispering memory beneath our feet.

  • When the Pirates Wear Uniforms

    When the Pirates Wear Uniforms

    When flags become brands and uniforms cloak injustice, we must name what we see: a world where war hides behind legality and theft wears a tie. This blog is a poetic protest against global hypocrisy — from Gaza to gilded offices — and a reminder that resistance still rows quietly below deck.

  • Koesister Mentality: Sweet Spice, Survival, and Sunday Mornings

    Koesister Mentality: Sweet Spice, Survival, and Sunday Mornings

    Once, ‘koesister mentality’ meant narrow thinking. But I steal it back, and sugar it differently: for me, koesister mentality is resilience after rising, sweetness after struggle, and barakat in every bite.

  • Joburg Remembers Too: From Gaajah to Burdah

    Joburg Remembers Too: From Gaajah to Burdah

    From a family Gaajah in Florida North to the chorus of the Burdah at Houghton Mosque, Joburg’s dhikr carries both intimacy and grandeur. This Rabiʿ al-Awwal, in Heritage Month, I was reminded that memory does not belong to Cape Town alone. It stretches wider — across towns, valleys, mosques and homes — carried in the…

  • In Our Veins, In Our Graves: Mawlud and Memory

    In Our Veins, In Our Graves: Mawlud and Memory

    This reflection flows from my Radio 786 series with Gadija Ahjum — Rooted Light, Series 2. In the month of Rabiʿ al-Awwal and Heritage Month, I write of Mawlud as memory in our veins and in our graves: sandalwood tasbihs from Makkah, rampies leaves cut by children, the riwāyah of Barzanji, and the moment we…

  • The Good Word as a Good Tree

    The Good Word as a Good Tree

    “The farm is a mirror of us, and we are mirrors of the farm. Soil, water, mind, heart — they rise and fall together. And here lies another secret: beautiful people are hidden from the world, like seeds beneath the soil, waiting to rise.” 🌱✨

  • The Prophet in Our Veins: On the Scent, Sound, and Song of Cape Devotion

    The Prophet in Our Veins: On the Scent, Sound, and Song of Cape Devotion

    Rabi al-Awwal has entered our skies. In Cape Town, remembrance is not reserved for the minbar — it pulses in the scent of rosewater, in quiet salawāt whispered in traffic, and in songs sung without instruments. This reflection explores three threads of Prophetic remembrance — as a guide in our struggles, a wellspring of longing,…

  • Fast-Forward into the Institute, Returning to the Circles

    Fast-Forward into the Institute, Returning to the Circles

    A whirlwind week at the IslamicText Institute and Azzawia: from Arabic grammar drills and fiqh debates to the living practice of Mawlood. These are not just classes, but circles of light where knowledge, devotion, and community flow together.

  • When the Conqueror Steals the Tongue

    When the Conqueror Steals the Tongue

    Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o’s warning — “Take away our language and we will forget who we are” — echoes in the Cape’s own history. Kaaps, Arabic-Afrikaans, and the Ratib al-Haddad are more than words; they are living archives of faith, resistance, and belonging. When empire tries to sever the tongue, we stitch the seam back together…

  • In the Circles of Azzawia

    In the Circles of Azzawia

    From whispered questions in the Haram to the green dome of Azzawia, these are the moments where the old way of learning still lives — teachers in a circle, books open, hearts leaning forward. In Cape Town, the chains of knowledge are not shackles but links that draw us closer to Allah.