About
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a writer.
Life, however, has a way of rearranging our dreams.
There were years filled with pregnancies and newborns, lunchboxes and laundry, moving countries, homeschooling, supporting the people I loved, and simply trying to make it through each day. Somewhere between putting others first, navigating brain fog, and carrying the quiet responsibilities that often go unseen, that childhood dream slowly slipped into the background.
For a long time, I forgot that I wanted to write.
Not anymore.
I’ve come to realize that my story deserves a place.
Not because it is extraordinary.
Not because it is the complete truth.
And certainly not because it is more important than anyone else’s.
It deserves a place because it is the story Allah chose to write for me.
And perhaps yours deserves a place for exactly the same reason.
Why Barakah Roots?
The older I become, the more convinced I am that Allah fills ordinary life with extraordinary lessons for those willing to pause long enough to notice them.
A forgotten lunchbox.
A drive through the Riyadh desert just before Maghrib.
A Friday potluck with sisters.
A difficult conversation.
A verse I have recited for years that suddenly speaks to my heart in a completely different way.
The beautiful thing about the Qur’an is that it never changes.
We do.
Barakah Roots grew out of that realization.
These essays are simply my reflections on the life Allah has written for me—how I have stumbled, learned, laughed, grieved, questioned, healed, and witnessed His mercy in ordinary moments.
I don’t write because I have arrived.
I write because I am still walking.
A Little About Me
I’m an Indonesian Muslim woman living in the United Arab Emirates.
I’m a wife, a mother of ten, a childbirth educator, a lifelong lover of books, and someone who has carried pieces of Indonesia, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE in her heart.
Most days you’ll find me writing with a cup of coffee slowly growing cold beside my laptop, surrounded by books, half-finished notebooks, and the ordinary interruptions that come with a full house.
I don’t believe ordinary life is ordinary.
I think Allah hides remarkable lessons inside it.
Those are the lessons I’m trying to notice.
A Gentle Disclaimer
Everything I write here is a personal reflection.
I am not a scholar, and these essays are not tafsīr or formal Islamic instruction. They are simply the thoughts of an ordinary Muslim woman trying to understand the Qur’an, the Sunnah, and the everyday ways Allah nurtures our hearts through the seasons of life.
If I write anything contrary to the Qur’an, the authentic Sunnah, or the understanding of the righteous scholars, I sincerely ask Allah’s forgiveness. I would also be grateful to be corrected with knowledge, evidence, and good manners so that I can continue learning.
Whatever is true and beneficial is from Allah alone.
Any mistakes are from my own shortcomings.
Why I Keep Writing
I don’t expect every reader to agree with every reflection I write.
I don’t expect my experiences to mirror yours.
That isn’t the point.
The point is that Allah created each of us with a story that no one else can tell.
Your memories.
Your questions.
Your joys.
Your losses.
Your journey back to Him.
No one can tell that story the way you can.
And no one can take it away from you.
Perhaps that is one of the beautiful ways Allah honors His creation. He did not create identical lives. He created unique hearts, unique paths, and unique lessons, each drawing us back to Him in different ways.
If these essays encourage someone to notice Allah’s blessings a little more carefully in their own life, then alhamdulillāh.
And if they encourage you to tell your own story—not because it is perfect, but because it is yours—then perhaps this little corner of the internet has served its purpose.
After all, we are all walking back to Allah.
We simply each have a different story to tell along the way.
Welcome
Whether you found Barakah Roots while searching for an answer, looking for encouragement, or simply wandering through the internet, I’m grateful you’re here.
Make yourself a cup of tea—or coffee, if you’re like me.
Stay a little while.
May these reflections remind both of us to notice the quiet barakah Allah places in ordinary days, and may every step of our journey bring us a little closer to Him.
Welcome to Barakah Roots.