My family and I left Ronda early in the morning to travel to Almeria, both cities in Spain, while the former is in the middle of Andalusia the latter is in the eastern coast. We arrived very early in the morning, my wife was catching a ferry to Morocco for an Islamic spiritual retreat. This was her break from the daily duties of 24/7 tireless chores. I was taking the kids for a few days holiday around the city of Almeria and spending quality time with them.

I speak no Spanish but my children speak it fluently so they work for me as my official interpreter. My daughter is great at it and she enjoys the challenge. After checking in the hotel we went out for a walk and also to find out if there were any mosques and halal places to eat. We saw a woman in Hijab, headscarf and North African in appearance so I asked her about the whereabouts of such places. She looked amused at first but sad too for she was unable to help us. She looked distressed that she could not help her fellow Muslims.

The three of us, my daughter, son and I thanked her for her time and walked away, getting on with other things that we were curious in exploring. We went to a supermarket to buy some water and snacks! The Hijabi lady came over to the supermarket looking for us and when she found us she said, "excuse me", with a very strong Moroccan Arabic, "my friend and I would like to show you the mosque, come with us!"

I noticed she had two friends with her and one little boy. I said, "thank you but if you tell me the direction I can drive there myself".

She insisted on showing us the mosque so we followed them. As we walked down the road I quickly learned that the lady was living in Spain as an undocumented migrant but her husband has been able to gain legal status and worked as a manual worker at a local farm growing tomatoes. He earned just enough to provide for her and for their two young boys aged 16 and 3 living in Morocco!

She was tearful when talked about her sons especially when she heard the name of my son. Her youngest son and my son shared the same name. It pained me to realise the extent of suffering people endure just to provide their family the most basic things that we take for granted. How sad that as a mother she has live away from her own flesh and blood children for such prolonged period of time just for decent life and happiness.

We walked through a neighbourhood that looked very deprived and the deeper we entered the area the more out of place it appeared. The lady told me,"that's the Arab village, it's not a nice place to live but that's the only area where we can afford to live without the locals or the authorities bothering us!'

It was dilapidated, dirty and very under developed for a place in a European Union member country. It reminded me of shanti towns or slum areas in the poorest countries of the world. This was the Spanish equivalent and reserved only for the Muslims. There were lots of young man loitering around, women walking around aimlessly and small children playing with scrap metal, shopping trollies and left over or thrown away toys. Poverty and extreme hardship was everywhere!

I was conscious of the reaction of my daughter and son. My daughter said it straight, "Daddy, why is this area so dirty and why can't these Muslims keep their own area clean?" My son had his nose all the way up to his forehead is disgust! I didn't want my children to feel superior and not see the sufferings of genuine people and I didn't want them to draw the wrong conclusions. I had to explain to them in details the institutional discrimination and social exclusion Muslims in Spain suffer everyday! It took a lot of hard work to get the wording right but I think they understood.

The air was thick with the smell of cannabis and Moroccan food spice fused together. The prevalence of drugs disturbed me greatly and the food of Morocco enticed me tremendously; these feelings were concurrent! There was a makeshift market with quickly assembled stalls selling all types of materials including chinese household goods, second hand clothes and North African imported clay pots and pans. I would have never imagined such a place in the heart of Europe could exists. It was a piece of poorest North African slums created in the middle of Almeria in Spain.

There were rows upon rows of shacks, concrete cubes, slightly bigger than a refugee camp emergency tents and made of prefabricated concrete blocks. Most houses were not weather right, gaps between the walls and ceiling and and unfinished window and door frames were providing clear testament to the sub standard existence of this people. There was barely a two meters wide front yard shared between these living complexes. There were no gaps between the dwellings standing in rows. It was odd, sad and terribly distressing to watch Muslims living in Spain like this. The Moroccans who gave this country the golden age and peak of civilisation were now living in Spain like unwanted beggars! The world was gifted enlightenment by the Muslim Spain but Muslims were expelled on mass, massacred or forcibly converted! Today the same people were living in the country that their ancestors help build in a state worse than refugees, in absolute squalor!

The lady took us to her house and offered to keep my children while I went to pray Jum'a. She lived in a modest dwelling. Enough for her family but the building structure would not pass the health and safety and EU building regulation! My daughter used her bathroom but very soon came out and complained that the flush doesn't work! I usually take my children to the mosque with me and they expect that too. I told the lady that I would take the children with me.

She than walked us to the mosque and as I was about to say thank you and goodbye she said, "I am going go and cook lunch at my house, please come back after prayers and have lunch!" I never refuse food especially when it is halal and healthy! I wanted to be typically European and say no but my readily accepting hospitality side dominated and I agreed. My children were horrified at the thought of eating in her poverty stricken house. My son was in tears as he sat next to me in the mosque insisting on not eating there. I smiled at him and said, "our Prophet advised us never to turn down an invitation". They both hesitatingly accepted.

The mosque was filled with three hundred local Moroccan residents. The Imam talked about the blessed prophet Muhammad and his role in the world - he lambasted Muslims for placing more importance on celebrating his birthday or showing shallow and artificial reverence towards him. He said, "if you truly love the Prophet show it in your character and action, change your destiny like the prophet did through social action and become someone worthy of the honourable title member of the "Ummah of Muhammad!"

He was an elderly Imam but there was sharpness in his presence and clarity in his voice. He spoke at the most local Moroccan Arabic dialect and I really struggled to follow everything he said. The key message I understood was refreshing and uplifting.

We returned to the strangers house after prayer and there she had roasted a whole chicken served in olive and onion sauce with fresh North African bread, tomato salsa and potato chips. How did she do all that within the hour? My children who were apprehensive at first were now eating with delight in their eyes, happiness written all over their faces and looking satisfied. The dish was one of my all time favourite North African dish. I don't know how but the stranger knew exactly what I liked. Her friends had all gathered in house and we all ate to our hearts content. We spoke about life in our respective countries and they were even interested in my family cultural fusion. She even baked a cake for us and served it with mint tea.

My children leaned a great lesson today that you could enjoy great hospitality from a stranger and in the middle of poverty there was still love and affection. My son expressed his satisfaction with the taste and the quality of the food. I left feeling very honoured to have been treated so generously by a stranger and in her own word, "My heart sank when you asked me about halal food and a mosque for Jum'a, I could not imagine letting you go hungry, you are my Muslim brother and a guest in my city. If I had a decent house I would invite you and your family to come and stay my place. Please call us any time you need a hearty halal meal, we are here for you!" They smiled and waved us good bye as we headed back home feeling more humble and grateful.

I have learned in life strangers can be more genuinely generous than your own relatives or friends, strangers have no expectations but your families and friends always want something in return!

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