Mariyam Mohamed

photo credit to the photographer This morning, after dropping my child off at school, I was riding my cycle when the cool breeze brushed against my face. There was a faint smell of salt in the air, and instantly, I was transported back to my childhood visit to Ihavandhoo. Life there was simple. Children played openly on the streets — hopscotch, gandu filla , water games — the roads were their playground. Their laughter carried through the island, unfiltered and free. One memory remains especially vivid. A friend of mine was taking breakfast to her father at the boatyard, and I decided to join her, curious to see what it was like. When we arrived, I stood in awe. Her father was building a huge boat, crafted with his hands and the help of others. The vessel was stunning, each detail so precise, it felt alive. What struck me most was not the boat itself, but the way he worked. He wasn’t just shaping wood. He was breathing life into it. The passion in his eyes, the rhythm in his hands —...

The side the world sees is the confident woman I have built over the years, but like every human being, I carry moments of doubt, fear, and imperfection. I am not the best at everything, yet I give my all to whatever I do. Mistakes happen, but each one shapes me and molds my future experiences. On days when giving up feels easier, I remind myself of a simple mantra:   No one is perfect. Life is not always roses and butterflies—it is often the thorns that wake us up, push us to change, and force us to grow. These are the very moments that build resilience. And even when fear knocks at the door, I remind myself that God is watching over me. That sense of trust gives me the courage to take the next step forward. Recently, as I sat among inspiring women at the  MOMS NGO Event: Women Leading the Future 2025 , I was reminded of the power of shared stories. Each woman on stage carried not just achievements but also struggles, scars, and lessons that shaped who they are today. Their w...

I remember the day I went for a walk with my cousins near the jetty, which is now the swimming track. As children, we often played by pushing each other, laughing without a second thought. On that day, I nudged my cousin near the edge, not realising the possible consequences. An adult quickly told me, “Never do that again.” I obeyed, but I didn’t understand why. No reason was given. It was only years later, as I reflected, that I realised how dangerous that moment was. It could have turned into a fatal accident. This reflection made me think about a common gap in how we guide children: we often tell them what not to do without explaining why . The Psychology Behind Giving Reasons Research in developmental psychology shows that children learn best through explanatory guidance . This approach, known as inductive discipline , helps them understand the cause-and-effect relationship between their actions and outcomes. When adults give commands without explanations—“Don’t do that” or “Sto...

Twenty years ago, around this very month, preparations were underway for a new chapter—one filled with hope, dreams, and the promise of forever. At the time, it felt like the beginning of something lasting, something sacred. Marriage became a second nature, woven into daily life and identity. Now, nearly two decades later, that chapter has come to a close. It is not just the end of a relationship, but the quiet transformation of everything familiar. As time unfolds, some lessons arrive later—offering clarity only after the pain has already been felt. Divorce, for many, is not merely a legal separation. It is an emotional storm that tests one's strength, reshapes identity, and often brings people to their knees before lifting them up again. The Psychological Impact: Reconstructing Identity From a psychological perspective, the end of a long-term relationship triggers a major shift in one’s sense of self. When someone has lived almost half their life within the framework of a marriag...

Last night, a simple act of kindness reminded me of the kind of world we once lived in—or perhaps, the kind of world we still hope for. I had parked my bike and returned to find that someone had carelessly placed a GN motorbike right on top of my handle. On the other side, an Airblade was so tightly parked that I could not  move either vehicle. I stood there, struggling. I was in pain due to a hand injury, unable to lift or shift the bikes. I looked around, hoping someone would notice. I even asked one person, but they ignored me. My daughter, standing beside me, said,  “Don’t ask strangers for help, let me try.”   I told her it was too heavy. We stood there, waiting. Countless people walked past. They saw me struggle, but no one stopped. No one even smiled. Then, just as I was about to give up, someone in a WAMCO uniform approached and helped without hesitation. He smiled, gently moved the bike, and went on his way. I did not catch his name, but his face—humble, kin...

They say a mother can take your pain away and make you feel like a child again.  It is true—not just in a poetic sense, but in a very real psychological way. After living with my in-laws for some time, I started to notice something strange whenever I visited my mother. The moment I entered her home, something inside me shifted. My voice softened. I felt lighter. I would leave responsibilities at the door and sit on the floor or curl up on the sofa like I used to. I was not acting strong or trying to be put together—I simply became… myself. A softer, more vulnerable, more peaceful version of who I am. I often found myself wondering,  “Is this really me? Or am I just slipping into some old pattern?” That question stayed with me until I started reading about the neuroscience and psychology behind it. What I learned made everything make sense. The Brain Remembers Safety Our brains are wired to remember emotions. When you are around your mother—especially if she represents love, sa...

  Not every smile means the same. Some smiles carry genuine goodness. Some conceal pain. Others may hide sarcasm or even mockery. It’s strange, isn’t it? One simple gesture—just the curve of the lips—can carry so many layers of emotion. Every smile has a story, but not every story is spoken out loud. People smile for different reasons. Some smile out of habit, some to mask discomfort, and some because they genuinely feel a burst of joy from within. The most beautiful kind of smile, the one that lingers in your memory and warms your heart long after, is the smile that rises from the soul—when you see someone else happy, and their joy becomes your own. It’s the kind of smile that says:  I wish for you what I wish for myself. From a neuroscience perspective, smiling—especially a heartfelt, genuine smile—activates the brain’s reward system. Dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins get released, lighting up our mood and calming our stress. It’s a small act with a big impact, not just on...