I was only 5 years old when my father died in a car accident. I do not recall much of what happened, but I remember being astonished at our relatives’ response in my family’s time of need. I recall one of my aunts pulling rings off my father’s fingers before he was even taken for Ghusl (in preparation for burial). It may come as a surprise to some, but my uncles were busy in distributing what my father had left behind, while his dead body was still in the house. Even his small belongings were haggled over and distributed among…

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Addressing Multi-Dimensional Urban Poverty With Community-Driven, Bottom-Up Solutions. Follow us: www.ahkrc.org

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