Mustafa - Name of God
Selected Excerpts
Both our eyes are red
But you're high and I'm crying
You're trying to forget
But it hits me every time
You pray next to me
Right hand holds your left sleeve
Turning our heads gently
'Cause when it ends we fight
[…]
I wake up in the evening
When the day's already done
And I walk to the nearest store
Just to see someone
Everything is black
Your hands and my past
If I don't wake tomorrow
Song Name: Name of God
Artist: Mustafa
Year: 2023
Country: Canada
Language: English
Archive themes: Faith · Grief · Moral responsibility · Muslim subjectivity
Artist Profile: Mustafa is a Canadian rapper, poet and songwriter of Sudanese origin, raised in Toronto. His work is widely recognised for its introspective nature, often drawing on Islamic ethics, spiritual questioning and lived experiences of violence and grief within marginalised urban communities.
Archival Notes
This song is situated within an intimate emotional and spiritual space, exploring how love, grief and faith coexist under strain. It was released after the death of Mustafa’s brother, Mohamed Ahmed, who was murdered in Toronto, in the summer of 2023.
The focus of the song is emotional survival, and how two people cope differently with pain –one through intoxication and withdrawal, the other through grief and endurance – while “both our eyes are red”. Faith is present throughout not only as a shared ritual with imagery of bodies side by side in prayer, but also as a source of unresolved tension. Mustafa puts forth the idea that although prayer does not prevent conflict, it can sit beside it. The recurring question –“Did you do it in the name of God?” – asks whether emotional harm or violence can be justified through faith. This question is aimed at those who invoke God as a moral cover, especially within intimate relationships.
The song’s closing dialogue is a casual conversation between Mustafa and his cousin, which reorients the song toward Islamic humility and ethical restraint. The final words, “I’m just a human and a Muslim”, speak to Mustafa’s vision of Islam’s ethical core: God’s perfection and human limitation.
Mustafa’s Reflections on Grief
“When my big brother was killed in what will always feel like yesterday, knowing the suspected murderer was someone he held as a friend, someone he prayed with- it led me to believe that maybe his love was his end? Maybe where there is no love, parting from love keeps us alive? Maybe ending in love is the only way to actually begin? I don't know. The only clear memory from the days of his death were my parents reciting in unison, “oh Allah, we accept his passing, we accept what you ordained.” I'm desperate to love God like them. Our faith and our hearts are too often our demise - I know a field of young niggas dreaming that can testify to this. For better or worse we'll uncover every bone beneath our hollow laughter, our confused affection; maybe its revealed in our final gasp for meaning. Until then. Bismillah, In the Name of God.”
“I think I hide it well, but every hour passes like a blade moving through my chest. How I failed to protect him. Not an hour passes without his memory falling over me, without the memory of sirens, red and blue fireworks that never reach the ground. His last words our unknown anthem. The screams of my family still lodged deeper into my heart than any song. His killer running and running; may he die every day until we find him, ameen. I’ve lost so many people since losing my brother. The bullets ricochet. To those of you who fought the tide and remained with me in the worst year of my life, may the angels take your names where I can’t, ameen. If I’m no longer of service, dear Lord free me from this life, ameen. 24 hours before my brother’s death, I told him, “There’s nothing for us here. You have to leave Toronto.” He replied “InshaAllah, I will leave.” And he did, though not in the way I imagined. I resent him for leaving. I resent all I didn’t ask him. They left his body on that concrete until the sun fell. 12 hours. 12 hours my mother laid next to him beyond yellow tape. Her cliff. May those officers never know peace, ameen. To serve, to serve. May Allah have mercy on my Mohamed, and allow him a safe passage to paradise. I was once a little brother.”