Sallah in Malaysia

Malaysians do not celebrate sallah. Our sallah sounds like 'sala', a malay word, which means sin or offence. At the time we celebrate our sallah, Malaysians seek for forgiveness from the Creator and their fellow beings over their 'sala'. So here, happy sallah means happy sinning.



So what do Malaysians celebrate after thirty (yes, 30) days of fasting? It's called Hari Raya. We've just celebrated Hari Raya. Eidul Adha will be Haj Raya



It's customary for the Malaysians to express their Eid greetings together with asking for forgiveness. Very early in the morning of the Eid day, the mother will go to the father – the head of the family – to say her Eid greetings and ask for forgiveness. "Salamat Hari Raya, maaf zahir dan batin". This means "happy Eid, forgive me all the offences I committed against you, the obvious ones and the not so obvious ones."



There are different variations of saying this greeting but they all mean the same thing. Congratulations. Forgive me.



After the mother has greeted the father, the children will say their greetings to the father and then the mother. Younger children will ask for forgiveness from their older siblings. This format of greeting is repeated with neighbours, at the masjid, on greeting cards and on invitations. Congratulations. Forgive me.



Explaining the rational behind this form of greeting, my supervisor said, "When you sin against Allah, he'll forgive you. But when you offend another human being, they have to forgive you; otherwise, you may die with the burden."



I told her that in Nigeria, we only ask for forgiveness from family members and friends when we're traveling. And that it (asking for forgiveness) has become a very serious routine now that our roads are bad and airplanes are lobbed from the sky with consistent regularity.



But this festive season is not the right time to rehash sad tales from Nigeria, let me instead narrate how I celebrated my Eid.



On the eve of Eid, Omid, my Iranian friend, came to ask if would go to Putrajaya with him. He explained that the Iranian Embassy together with Iranian Students Association had arranged for a bus to take Iranians and their friends to the National Mosque in Putrajaya for Eid prayers.



I told Omid, "I've just received an sms that our chairman wants Nigerians to come to his house after Eid prayers at UPM masjid. But thank you all the same."



But then I sat down and mulled it over. Which is richer, praying and eating with Nigerians or traveling to Putrajaya to pray with people from different parts of the world?



After all I knew what would have happened at the chairman's house. Between shovels of food, we'd discussed all Nigerian maladies and everybody would become all worked up and frustrated and dejected. This was sallah man! I was supposed to be happy not dejected.



The problems and the actors have not changed so the chain of argument is always the same. Shekarau insulted the people by buying those cars. The federal government doesn't know what it is doing. The people need food. Sam Nda Isaiah's definition of the militants is more appropriate. Our educational institutions are in a mess. Garbadeen's unprofessorial professors are our problems. The masses are crazy. The politicians are thieves! Consensus: attitudinal revolution. The division is always between those who want the revolution now those who want it to be gradual. And my own contribution in the debate is to remind everyone what Victor Hugo said in Les Miserables. "Revolution has no time to wait for anybody!"



Since I could predict what would have happened at the Nigerian party, I went to Omid and promised that I would be on the bus to Putrajaya on Wednesday. I wasn't the only sunni on board. Ryad from Palestine and Umar from Iraq also joined our shia friends.



At the Putrajaya masjid, we saw beautiful people in beautiful cloths from different parts of the world. There were women, children, students, expatriates and tourists who came to watch us pray.



The magnificence of the masjid is breathtaking. Ornamental trees dot the landscape, the fountains gush forth in elaborate designs. The floors sparkle as if they were mirrors. The Putra masjid boasts of a 116-metre, five tiered minaret - the tallest minaret in the region. I don't how many people came for Eid prayers but the masjid accommodates 15,000 people. Unlike Nigerian Eid prayer grounds, there was no dust and vehicles were parked so that they didn't obstruct the smooth flow of traffic. I know Mal. Adamu Adamu will like this.



After prayers, I met some Nigerian students from other universities. Their stunning attires distinguished them from other Africans. I greeted and took pictures with some of them like Ahmad and Adamu of Infrastructure University and Umar Azores of Limkogwing University. As I was walking back to our bus; I was nearly knocked down by a big black car. When I looked at the occupants, I realized they were the same Nigerians whom I had just greeted. The children wanted to kill their own uncle!





From the masjid we went to the Sultan's palace in Shah Alam the state capital of Selangor. The trip was a delightful one and the flagship of my Raya activities. At the palace, every race and demography was represented. There were the Chinese, the Indians, Christians, Hindus, children, adults, politicians, and students.

Everybody was eating. We couldn't do otherwise. There was meat of every kind; chicken, beef, mutton and preparation of every kind; barbecued, grilled, fried, tsire, danbu and others that I couldn't name in any language. As people kept emptying the plates, the palace helps kept filling the tables with more bowls.



There was also what Malaysians call cube rice. It is one of the symbols of Eid celebrations. It's close to our tuwo but is prepared in palm leaves. Some are sugared some are not. I dropped a few cubes in my mouth. The taste was superb. So I dropped a few more. After that, I concentrated on the meat. I wanted to taste everything. I'm sorry Dr. Bala Muhammad, I couldn't help myself. My friends didn't help me either. "Go there; there is fruit salad on that table. That chicken is good", they encouraged me. But I saw a bowl containing something that looked like lalle; I didn't touch that one.



It was when Hadiza Wachiko called from Minna and reminded me that I was eating too much that I came back to my senses. By now my vision was clear enough to see where the Sultan was standing. So I wiped my hands and went to shake the hands of one of the most powerful men in Malaysia.