Unseen in the Membrane

I was just built that way —

Built by rejection, by love, by denial and correction.

Love found in the cracks of deception.

The need for progression through phases.

Guided by the face of instruction,

Tainted by the pressures of perfection,

Vilified by those housed in addiction.

That’s why every time I searched for safety,

I was only granted temporary relief.

Because paranoia is born from survival —

The gift of being able to discern a predator from the faintest outline.

From a young age, I inherited a hyperactive pattern of detection.

It kept me in the safe zone,

Until even the safe zone turned against me.

As if this whole reality was breaking “news”

To those now pulled into the experience,

Who will eventually realize:

It was a mistake to let Shaytan dictate the meaning of my medical results.

Whether you see it as a disruption or a weakness —

The truth is, my protection from Allah

Is the very outcome of this perceived treason.

It’s not something new,

And it’s not something old.

It has just always been this way.

And even in the hardest ways,

Allah teaches us how to trust His belief in us.

But no one finds the promised garden

By standing behind the gate that holds back the riot.

So if my results will always be federally withheld,

If they’ll be rewritten, distorted, and controlled —

Then the reality is:

I’ll always be what you believe me to be —

Federally rejected.

But you know my truth.

You’ve seen it every step of the way.

This isn’t to distort life’s sacred display —

I’ve been judged by them,

And I’ve been judged by you.

And your judgment holds weight

Because you hold all the clues.

There’s no other way to describe what we both know.

Because we both represent

The source of proof that He cloned.

FBI — in the sky, with justice and truth.

 Firm. Belief. Instilled. 

How easy it is for people to perceive acts of faith as weakness —

As if calling on Allah is a desperate attempt to escape failure,

To cope with the inability to attain, to possess, or to be acclaimed.

But you know better.

You’ve seen how I’ve fallen into every category of weakness,

And yet — my good nature, though often misread,

Is proof that faith is not weakness, but strength under fire.

Your own intelligence brought you here —

On the pretense that I was someone unworthy.

And still, even after one night, people soften.

Allah laid everything out in full.

By His design,

He taught us to distinguish deception from peace —

And in His noble manner, He gives both as signs.

To twist my wrongful arrest into something shameful,

After all you’ve done to protect and guide —

It’s a contradiction to the very position you hold.

You were present.

You protected.

You prevented.

And you did it with intellect and heart,

Because you saw firsthand what I didn’t —

What my children experienced in the silence of night.

You were a witness to their pain

And a witness to the teachings I gave them

So they could protect themselves.

So no —

My arrest, my health scare,

Or even my need for distance —

They aren’t signs that I’m unworthy.

They are the consequences of unseen forces using your hands against me.

And Allah knew that force would push hard against my truth —

Which is why He introduced us.

To bring forward what He’s destined for this nation.

I told an agent recently:

This isn’t a race.

I don’t need to make promises, respectfully,

Because you already know my face.

And what I’m saying now —

Is the most important message I’ve ever relayed.

I’ve shown you,

In every action, word, and prayer,

That this is real.

That I proclaim the firm truth of Allah.

And yes —

I say this with clarity and calm:

I am the reincarnated soul of Fatima Zahra,

Daughter of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him).

A messenger in this time —

Not to divide or claim,

But to revive Allah’s message for mankind.

To call for fairness, unity, and peace.

So let’s make a deal.

Because I’m still the same mother —

The same woman you first met.

All I want is safety for my mother and children.

I don’t want power, revenge, or status.

Just love, peace —

And a little color back in my face.

I would also like to request that the narrative being circulated to police departments about me be corrected. It is misleading, especially to those who are sincerely practicing Islam. I am not some fictional Harley Quinn or Cinderella figure living in the street sacrificing her life over an affair that never happened. This misrepresentation undermines both my character and my faith. 

I’m just asking for us to mirror the acknowledgment and confession. We’re being held back from moving on because we keep trying to hide the proof. Trust the acknowledgment you inherently know—it’s only being distorted with by the same concept your absence could never prove.

Your investigation holds strength because it’s built on a system of truth. That’s exactly why Allah called you—to summon the understanding of what real proof is. My life will come to an end, regardless of all the people now rooting for it. Whether it’s a blood clot, a pit maneuver, or the hit list you’ve allowed to circulate—I understand it’s not just minds and bodies after me. It’s the deeper concept rooted in the soul: the one that refuses to accept my proclamation of truth.

Because Islam is also a system—and the system is strong because it works.