Ro.

Not every feeling needs a sentence because sometimes the quiet does the work better. Sometimes. Ah well. So, it’s just me, myself and I. And whoever wants to apply. Heh.

[day one. four one] January 2025 me would never have predicted the shitshow that was the last 365 days we’ve had. But wtv, chat. We still cute.

Didn’t pack properly for this weather… but i guess the clothes sorted themselves out.

Ok, Chat… My insta draft reminded me that sometime in Q4 of 2025, i was THE Next-in-Vogue. 💅🏾 jk jk. I was legit the only “loving unknown” (iykyk) in the midst of amazing designers, speakers, guests, content creators and industry insiders. But, hey, WATASHIWARYANSTARR! Thank you for the invitation, Vogue Singapore. It was truly an honour. 💜

Hey, chat. It’s been awhile. ✌🏾

Perjumpaan Raya Abam-Abam & Akak-Akak Melayu Berjaya… because, clearly, Eid ain’t over. A room filled with academics, designers, comms specialists, medical professional, scientist, underwriter, business owners, creatives, journalists, stylists, and editors. Basically, some of the finest brown minds and coolest multi-hyphenates, who come from very humble background, you’ll ever meet (lol.. sempat. But really tho). Thank you @supersuuuuu_ for opening your home and your heart to us. We all stayed till 115am, eh! ONE-FIFTEEN IN THE MORNING.

You wore black, I am in white. Technically, we’re already yin and yang. All that’s left is for me to say: “Aku terima nikahmu, sayang”. TIBERRRRR… Day 7 Abam Baby Over and Out

Abam London out; Abam Baby clocking in. If your mother asks… Yes, abam is still single. Yes, abam is good with kids. And yes, I’ll help with the dishes — but only if you sit beside me after. EH TIBERRRRRR. #SHRMZB, geng! Ramadone and out — and Eid is done (day 1 of 30), the #mEidGala goes on (mostly on weekends, obvy, cos abam gotta bring home that bread).

Abam London in his Soft Boi Mamat era.

So, how does turning 40 feel, you ask? I don’t have the answer because I’ve stopped searching for one. Four decades in, and I’ve learned that it’s not the answers but the questions that shape us. This year, I made it a point to be in my favourite city, circling the Kaabah on my birthday itself, and reflecting on the years that brought me here. Turning 40 doesn’t feel like a thunderclap of revelation. It feels more like when i turned 32 in this same place. Except now, I feel a little older (but, hopefully, a little wiser too). Still, being here feels different this time. Maybe it’s because this city has a way of reminding you how time moves. It moves not just forward, but through us, quietly leaving its marks. In my 30s, there were days I wasn’t sure I’d make it to today. There were days when the weight of life felt unbearable, when I questioned who I was and whether I was enough. If I’m honest, some of those questions still linger. Yet, somehow, I’m here. Somehow, I’ve made it to this moment. Not because I fought harder or believed stronger, but because I allowed myself to feel, even when it hurt. And through it all, something shifted. I’ve realised happiness isn’t some grand destination you reach. It’s a fleeting feeling you catch in the cracks of everyday life. Joy really does live in the smallest, most unassuming moments. Honestly, I don’t know what’s to come, but I know I’ve survived every high and every low, and it has made me who I am today. So, here’s to being undone and remade a thousand times over. To carrying my scars as proof of survival. To laughing at the absurdity of it all. And to living the questions, because maybe that’s where the beauty lies. Alhamdulillah for all of it. Truly. Alhamdulillah for the past, the present, and the privilege of being here, in this moment. And yes, kids. I am 40. (Though, let’s be real, I still look 18. Tiberrrr.)

Ended the year in Al-Quds, and began 2025 with the most beloved. And, yes, everyone else was running into the mosque but sis busy taking fitcheck for this transition. 💁🏽‍♀️😝

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) once said to “not set out on a journey except to three mosques: Masjid al-Haram in Makkah, Masjid an-Nabawi in madinah, and Al-Aqsa Mosque in Al Quds” (Sahih al-Bukhari, Sahih Muslim). And that hadith brought me to Palestine—to Al-Quds, to Al-Aqsa. Of course, what has happened in the last year has made me want to even more be with the Palestinians, to see for myself what life is like for them and what it means to live in a place so sacred yet so fraught with challenges. Quite honestly, there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know how to put it all into words. This caption will never do justice to what I saw and felt in Palestine—the weight of history, the injustice, but also the incredible faith and resilience of its people. In Al-Quds, life moves under the shadow of checkpoints, soldiers, and barriers. And yet, the people endure. “This is normal for us,” my guide Hisham told me. “It’s our daily life.” But they don’t want your charity or sympathy. “Tell your friends to come to Al-Aqsa. Come to Al-Quds,” Hisham said. “As long as people visit, they will know we are not forgotten. We don’t need your money (ie just charity). What we need is your presence.” In the last week, I couldn’t help but notice that their lives often feel like a game of survival, like an episode of Squid Game. Every step comes with uncertainty, but their faith remains unshaken. Despite being driven from their homes, they are still here—steadfast, determined, holding on not just for themselves but for all of us. So if you can, go to Palestine. Visit Al-Quds. Show up. But if you can’t, then keep talking about them. Support the causes that benefit them. Because as long as we care, their story isn’t over. For the full travel story (lolol), you can check my highlights for 🍉🇵🇸. Reporting from the City of Al-Quds, this is Rohaizatul Azhar signing off (because Christiane Amanpour who?! 😝😘). And with that the 2024 season comes to an end. ANA DAMMI FALASTEENI!