What do you think?
Rate this book


364 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 2, 2026
࣪ ˖ ֪ꮽ᱖܄ 3 stars˚ִִ꒱꒱ ִ݂
𐔌♯┆she's all the colors of bravery .ᐟ ⊹.
୭ book summary: when the world becomes harsh and jihad's world turns upside down, the world is colorless to her. she can't see nothing but black and white. sadly, she gets sent to an elite private school (braxton academy) where now there's a target on her back because of her name and hijab. with fighting strength, jihad paints beautiful murals all over new york to send a message.. read on to find out!
🌊 — pre-read .ᐟ ⌗
“I am a blade of grass, the drop of courage, the warmth in a mother's eyes, the sliver of moonlight guiding the path, the lilt of voices speaking in Arabic, the curve of the curlicues, the ink in the calligraphy inscribing poetry on marble walls, the sunrise orange, and the twilight blue.”
⤷ ゛"But you know people, even good ones, look at us and think we're confined to one space. That we can only exist in one box because they think being Muslim means being limited. It's an unconscious bias. As if being Muslim is some sort of hurdle to overcome or something. Or a crutch. It's condescending." ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛Our words, our meanings, my name, my meaning - all crushed under the boot of racism. ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛"She's all the colours of bravery. ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛"We live in a world where all of this information can be so easily found online if you want to know the truth. Ignorance is not an excuse anymore. It's also weird you look at Jihad to give you answers on topics like this. You don't see her asking you to justify what your ancestors did. ˎˊ˗I was cheering him on so hard, YESSIR TELL EM JAMIE!!
⤷ ゛I understand why it feels difficult for Baba to talk about it. The homesickness is chronic, and there's no cure. It's an eternal gray. But the result is that I don't know much about where I come from. I'm a mosaic of everyone who came before me, and yet, I don't recognize who these eyes and nose and lips belong to. ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛Mama, their blood has made this land grow peaches and pomagrantes. I'm not sure their blood has passed down to me. I'm scared the distance has made it diluted. ˎˊ˗The true pain of someone who is far from the soil of their ancestors.
⤷ ゛"All right, we cried, we laughed, divulged some deep trauma, and nearly braided each other's hair. Well, my hair and your hijab. So I think we should get some studying in?"ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛His eyes glimmer, and I'm mesmirised by the contrast of the gray against his eyes. They're so full of life, I think they outshine the sun. ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛For people like Mason, I have to stand out to be embraced. I have to cure cancer, be a heavy-weight champion, establish myself as an essential human being who has contributed greatness to the world in order for my other "less attractive" aspects to be accepted. Or, if I'm being honest, ignored. Then it would be okay that my name is Jihad. Because then I'm not like the others. My people can't exist as they are. We must prove ourselves worthy of life. ˎˊ˗See this, exactly this, is what I'm talking about. As a Muslim living in a western country, I relate to this sentiment on a defining level.
⤷ ゛"If you're here, and I'm here," Jamie says, "then who's taking notes in class?" ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛"Hi, I mean, salam alaykum," he says eagerly.
I smile. "Hi, I mean, wa alaykum elsalam." ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛ Jamie: wake up it's feeding time
Me: I'm not a sheep
Jamie: you might not be but i am ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛A crystal blue. Like a diamond. A blue so lush, you think the color would stain your hands if you touched it. A blue you know you could breathe under, she said. ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛"When I think of us going separate ways, I feel like my heart might stop." ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛"We have a saying in Vietnamese, 'Xin xhia bu n.' We say it when we want to express our concolences. It means i want to share the sadness with you. I'll carry some of it."
"I-I-you don't know me."
"And? You're human, aren't you, you're hurting, aren't you? That's enough of a reason." ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛"I wouldn't do this for anyone, but I do it for you. You don't get to decide to push me away because you feel like you have no one. I'm here." ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛I think of how different my life would've been if I'd lived in Syria my whole life. If Syria were free. If Syria were mine. My parents would not have moved here. My freedom here is not true freedom. My freedom here is borrowed time; it's me apologizing for existing. I don't have freedom in my countries, and I don't have freedom here. ˎˊ˗this. every single person who lives away from the country they call home, they feel this.
⤷ ゛This year isn't the final brushstroke on my canvas. My black eye will fade, and the pain will disappear. But I will be here. I have so many years ahead of me. And in each one I will be looking for Mama, looking for myself. ˎˊ˗
⤷ ゛Mama, when I go back to her, will I see you there? ˎˊ˗