Can a Mosquito be Good for You?
- Hajar Abdul-Rahim
- Nov 28, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: Jan 22
Tunis, Tunisia
11-28-2024
It was my last night in Tunis, a city in a country I fell in love with. The people were genuinely good and kind-hearted. We stayed in a traditional Arabic home built 300 years ago: a square center opened to the sky surrounded by rooms. Today the rooms are used by guests from around the world.
The narrow, long stairs took you to the rooftop, allowing guests to lounge, drink tea, reflect, or gaze at the night sky. I’ve always loved traditional rooftops, or stoohs, and spent many nights on my grandfather’s during my few summer visits to Aleppo.
After walking hours into the early night with my uncle to silently bid goodbye to the old city, taking pictures of old doors, we returned to Dar al Gacem. My uncle went into his room, and I went into mine. I set the alarm for 6:15 a.m. to pray the dawn prayer, and went to sleep.
At some point, I felt a high-pitched buzz in my ear. Waving it away, I dozed off. The noise returned, and this time I checked my phone. It was 4:30. I was relieved I could sleep for another two hours.
Then, unsure if I was alseep or awake, I felt the annoying sound once again. I turned on my phone light, and there it was, the tiny, black enemy right above my pillow on the painted-white rock wall. A perfect contrast.
I smashed it. When I moved my fist, miraculously, it flew away. I turned on the light looking for it, and that’s when I noticed a few other mosquitoes pressed into the wall with a touch of red. I looked at the time: 5:15 a.m. I googled “salah times in Tunis,” and saw that fajr was at 5:39.
Soon I’ll be on my way to visit two more countries and two more cousins I haven’t seen in 18 years. They both fled the Syrian war. One arrived in Paris, the other in Brussels. I might as well pray two rakas of tahajjud before departing Tunisia, I thought.
I waited for the hot water to come, then made wudu. Feeling refreshed, I thought why not pray on the rooftop? I put on my socks and quietly left my room so I don’t wake up the British guest to my right or the man from Switzerland to the left. It was chilly. I tiptoed in the dark to the stooh and was welcomed by a beautiful crescent and stars reflecting through the city. The only sound was the whirring of pigeons.
I went to the highest point and began my extra prayer before dawn. Peace permeated into my lungs. I prayed for my grandparents and my great grandparents. I asked God to grant Abdelkarim, the caretaker of the fourth oldest mosque built by the companion Oqbah bin Nafeh 1,400 years ago, a trip to Mecca.
“Please,” Abdelkarim said to me with his toothless smile, “make dua that Allah allows me to perform umrah in Ramadan. And pray He shines His mercy on my children.”
I prayed for every person that we came in contact with in Tunisia and in Rome, just a few days before. I prayed for my entire family at large. I prayed for the old lady who asked the fruit seller how much the orange was. “A million dinar,” he joked. Then he peeled her an orange and gave it to her. I asked God to bless him with the same mercy he showed the old grandmother. I prayed that God would substitute every sun-dried crack in the very old man’s face with smoothness and health in another world.
Suddenly, a symphony of voices echoed in the air. It was 5:39 a.m., and the call to prayer began from every minaret. I sat. I stared. I closed my eyes. I inhaled the sound. It was the most perfect moment since my travels began. I thanked God for gifting me this final goodbye gift.
I stood up, raised my hands, and began the first prayer of the day. Allahu akbar.
I thought about the mosquito. Had it not been for its hideous hissing, I would still be tucked beneath the white down comforter. Suddenly, a Quranic verse came to mind and carried an entirely new meaning:
وعسى أن تكرهوا شيئاًوهو خيرٌ لكم
I thought about the mosquito. I smiled and said it again: “Do not hate something that is (very likely going to be) good for you.”

Beautiful reflection, Hajar. I can’t wait to read the book of wisdom that you are going to write one day, Inshaa Allah.
Wow this is amazing I would love to post this on my fb page
What a beautiful reflection MashaAllah!
Nice article hajoora