The Tiny Mosque

Just past Amazing Grace’s Fabric Shop, sits a tiny mosque. It sits so quietly, that many pass by without noticing. The single, delicate minaret hugs the body of the mosque tightly. Dusty white against dusty white. You don’t have to stretch your neck too high to see the moon and star that rest upon its head. The metal crescent moon crafted by hand wears the welder’s fingerprints and the scars left from hammering it into shape. We’ve never seen anyone enter or leave through the reflective windowed door. One circular speaker sticks out from the facade. We’ve visited three times already to hear the tiny mosque’s tiny call to prayer. As we wait, we can hear the surrounding intimidating mosques begin their calls. Silently, the tiny mosque sits.

This is a Ghanaian wax print fabric without a name yet.

15 thoughts on “The Tiny Mosque

  1. A beautiful and poetically described piece. I have never been to Ghana, but feel like I can picture this scene. The joy of walking and noticing with children is universal, even when the landscapes we notice are different. I look forward to reading more of your posts!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love, love, love your page. What a beauty! Your masthead is evocative.

    Thank you for talking about the tiny mosque at the corner. It reminds me of small temples scattered around my hometown in India. You can pass by one without realizing that the peace and quiet can be found inside. Your description drew me in. Incidentally, when I think o mosque, I have never imagine a tiny one. Thanks for exposing me to a new knowledge.

    Best wishes for ongoing sharing slice of our lives.


    Liked by 1 person

  3. Kay, so good to hear your voice and see Accra through your eyes. I loved “dusty white against dusty white” and “the tiny mosque’s tiny call to prayer”.


      1. Inkayshoes,

        India is a small world into itself. From one coast to another, it has so many cultures, hues and climates. The country with 19 official languages and more than 200 dialects. I want to visit it someday soon too. Last time I went there was in 1994. But as Zubin Mehta says, India lives in my heart.

        Now I see a blog post coming. 🙂



        Liked by 1 person

  4. Mmm.. the details here draw me right in. I love that you’ve never seen anyone enter or leave. I love the various ways that you talk about how it is small, inconspicuous. I can’t wait to read more of your writing.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. “You don’t have to stretch your neck too high to see the moon and star that rest upon its head.” …I stretched my neck just a tiny bit as I read this. You made the reader the walker. Like magic. Thank you for this glimpse of beauty.


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