This is us; Fate, Fortitude and Familia

The quiet of dawn in the tropics is gentle but not entirely silent. Rustling palms sashaying in the breeze, twittering Kanbili and the occasional rude ‘Haa’ beckon the sun, just before the island is filled with the blessed sound of Fajr prayers.

Abdulla Rafeeq makes his way to the mosque, an every day routine, and after an hour or so of ‘Namad’ and religious meditation, he expertly works his way through the taro fields that lie not far from his house. Having worked up a decent sweat, it is now time to head back for breakfast, and he tucks a flower into his pocket.