sukina pilgrim



TBG have been massive fans of Poetic Pilgrimage, and have been anxiously waiting for the release of their documentary, Hip Hop Hijabis for ages! 

The documentary follows the journey of these two pilgrims as they continue to strive for their performances to be accepted in a community that finds it difficult to accept the fusion of hip hop, reggae and Islam. Their candid addressal of the hypocrisy and double standards their face is …..

Their segment on Al Jazeera’s The Stream (above) touches on some pertinent issues. In addition to giving us in an insight into their relationship with each other, and the difficulties they’ve faced as Muslim women on a stage, they raise an important question: why is it that arts from different cultures are widely accepted in the Islamic community, but reggae and hip hop are increasingly dismissed as ‘un-islamic’? The roots of hip hop stem primarily from the fight for social justice, which, if i’m honest, align with the majority of Islamic principles.  

As Muslims, we should be ashamed that this kind of racism exists in the wider Islamic community, especially because our religious tradition is founded upon artistic expression, specifically poetry. 

Watch the segment above, the trailer of their documentary, and let us know your views.

- A x

P.s so who’s gonna be tuning in on Sunday to watch the documentary!?

Creation must have been the sweetest love song, ever
The lyrics of which caused universes to burst from nothingness
And exist in a state of bliss, can you imagine this?
“Be”, He said in a tongue so ancient, sacred, fragrant, laden with creation and love
I guess love must have sounded like that moment
Because at that moment
Love is all there was -
And really, all that is
—  from, A Lover’s Tongue, by Sukina Pilgrim (one half of Poetic Pilgrimage)

“Saints in the City” by Sukina (Poetic Pilgrimage) 

this is for those with mercy in their eyes
whose prayers have the power to pierce the skies

to those who have come to the conclusion
that this world is but an illusion
that will one day fade
and all that will be left is
His face 

There is an Angel standing.
Lips to a trumpet
Light years long
Waiting for Allah’s word
To blow.
Made for no other purpose 
Than to play in that moment
a song so beautifully devastating
All the living will fall out of existence
And taste death.
Until all that’s left 
Is the Face of your Lord.
The Universe will be silent
Imagine the sound of the Universe’s silence
So Golden.
And God will be alone is His Oneness
As He was in the beginning
And as He’s always been.


- Sukina Pilgrim 

We could have the most wonderful conversations with our Creator  As He sings through His signs  What else is a crimson sunset but a poem in the sky? I heard of a boy one time  Whose heart taught him to talk to the wind The sun overheard their conversation and wanted to join in but had no answers to the questions burning beneath his skin So he said: "why not speak to the Author of the primordial love song, 
who serenaded our souls in a time bygone, 
who causes seeds to sprout sunlight 
and made humans with His secret hidden inside" The boys tongue fell silent  But his heart beat more violent Than a thousand Djembe drummers  Playing to a thousand star-crossed lovers  In the heat of a thousand Indian summers At the pace of 1,000 Jamaican runners Until all that could be heard was a hum. 
Vibration. The boy prayed with no words For what words could he use To tell the One who gave him words to use That he now knew  That he is his Creator’s love child The soul of this native son Had remembered its native tongue Just as a baby knows its mothers tongue The Beloved hears the lover With no need for vocal chords  - Sukina Pilgrim, from A Lover’s Tongue