As most parents can attest to, every now and then, aspects of a kid's
life, observable or instinctive, trigger memories. So it was on Sunday
when I was shuttling my daughter, Matty from her Karanta (Islamic
Instruction class) to the monthly picnic our Mosque organises. As is
the practice, we were reviewing her days instruction generally
comprising of whatever chapter of the Koran she was reading,
interspersed with Arabic language vocabulary and writing. Living near
two mosques within about 40 minutes of each other, has afforded her the opportunity to enroll in two Karantas at the same time because they have sessions at alternate days - one Saturday and the other on Sunday.

Additionally, the instructor in one of the Karantas is an American born Muslim who uses modern teaching methods to instruct the kids in the history, practice and essence of the Deen. For example, parts of their tests comprised of multiple choice questions, having the kids perform abolutions and make salat or read stories of prophets or seminal events in Islamic history. The other Karanta has a matronly retired teacher originally from Syria whose emphasis is in the teaching of classic Arabic and the reading and memorisation of the Qur'an. Together, the two schools constitute a wholesome approach to Islamic education in which the kids are not studying in the abstract but can also immerse themselves in the functional aspects of the religion.

When I was her age, six, my father had me join my older brothers at the Karanta of Outass Mbye Njie, who gave instructions at a rented space in the Boraba section of my native Georgetown. An affable and mild mannered gentleman who appeared meticulously clean all the time. Our Good oustass made maximum use of the classroom by dividing the student body into levels that reflected the years of instruction and staggering the schedule so that different groups came at different times. I remember looking forward to not only the instructions, but also the side activities that were all part of the going to the Karanta. We would usually come well before the scheduled class time for a chance to play on the mountain high rice husks that a nearby milling machine after years of operation has gathered. The gig was to run all the way to the summit and then skate downhill to take in the adrenelin rush. Sometimes while at the summit, if Ba Sulayman Hydara wasn't sitting on his Pilliyan at his terrace ( his home abutts at the heap of rice husk), you could snatch some of his enticing citrus fruits that hung tantalisingly close to the summit. If I had a few coins, I liked passing by Pa Buguma Khan's little store close to the Karanta to buy whatever was on sale in terms of snacks: boiled or roasted peanuts, toborong, cassava and beans, etc. There was also the river swims and the street soccer matches.

Decades afterwards, I see my religious education to a large extent, reflected in my daughter's current experience in that, she too, is passing through the hands of teachers who inshallah would teach her the tenets of Islam and with it a lifetime prescription for good conduct and fidelity to faith. Her own version of the rice husk mound I played in as a six year old is an inflatable step and slide ride that she and the other kids play in on our Mosque grounds, and you can substitute Pa Buguma's snacks with the Syrian Pastries or light lunches served at both of her Karantas. What remains the same is the generational similarities of the experience of the Karanta and how it has been the essential vehicle for practicing Muslims to sustain the knowledge and practice of the religion.

Thankfully, a lot of practicing Muslims here in America are doing their best to fulfill their religious obligation to ensure their children receive the required religious instructions regardless of whether they live in a small town like I do with no other Gambian or Senegalese, or in a big city like metro DC or Atlanta. In the big cities, like minded parents routinely band together to arrange for weekend tutorials or formally constitute Karantas with either volunteer tutors or fulltime paid Oustasses. We pray that Allah would strengthen their efforts.

Sadly, however, some parents have fallen short in this important obligation not by design but rather by default. Sometimes it is a result of mixing priorities to where attempts at meeting the rigors of life have been permitted to overwhelm household schedules to where religion both in it's learning and practice have inadvertently drifted to secondary status.

We also pray that Allah continue to bestow his guidance on all of us so that we do not stray from our professed and deeply held believes.

America offers great opportunities for the practising Muslim but there also exist strong possibilities to slowly but surely abandon the deen and the most certain way to accomplish the later is not ensuring that the kids are taught. If you live far from any Muslim community, the
internet offers great tools for you to home school your kids.

Karamba Touray, Florida, US