Zaynab Abdullah from the Eat of the Good Things project talks about their trip to Willowbrook, a halal organic farm in Oxford...

An efficient and valuable man does what he can, whether the community pay him for it or not.’ This was said by Henry David Thoreau. I quote him, because my choice of reading seems to be in perfect sync with the activities in my life. On Saturday, on a trip to Willowbrook Farm in Oxford with the EGT crew, I had been reading Thoreau’s ‘Walden’. It is an account of Thoreau taking to the woods for a temporary residential. He doesn’t focus primarily on the events of his life; rather he eloquently uses the simple and humble framework of nature from the ripples on a pond’s surface and the sowing of beans to explore profound topics such as spirituality, truth, self-economy and materialism.

From what I’ve read so far, I had difficulty digesting and relating to a lot of what he saying. To clear up some of my confusion, the trip to Willowbrook Farm seemed to do the perfect job. Contrary to Thoreau’s seemingly romantic perception of the woods, Lutfi the farmer made it clear for us how easy it is to romanticise about rural life on a farm. And some exhausting (and surprisingly short) manual labour at the end of the day, proved exactly what he meant. Even though, the manual labour may have put a dent into some of our fantasies, I found myself still idealizing a resort to farm life. Relating the events of the day, it might clear up some confusion as to why.

Leaving a life of academia and cosmopolitanism, Lutfi looked towards the country as the alternative. After many approaches and rejections from the council for the establishment of the farm, he, his wife and four children took to caravans and settled in the farm’s woods, without the knowledge of the council. Finally, the council gave in to Lutfi’s incessant and relentless determination and he was, at long last, granted a 45 acre farm.   After being enlightened with Lutfi’s journey of venturing into rural life, I began to see first-hand the significance of the natural landscape, to Islamic principles of unity. From the handling of the sheep, to a halal abattoir for animal slaughter, to the planting of peppers and to the building of a mudhouse, Lutfi highlighted that all of these acts, involved the understanding of being at one with the God-given natural elements surrounding us. Unity with the animals, trees, plants and land is what he took from Islamic teachings and what facilitated his occupation as a farmer.

The house on the farm which had been erected from mud and water, was a sight to be seen. The yellow and brown structure that stood before us, had been planned, designed and constructed by Lutfi and his sons, with hardly any external help. The deep foundations of the house, the broadness of the walls (three times the size of our own!) and roofed triangular windows made it pretty clear that this house is going to be standing for some time. After being introduced to the house, we got to work. Some of us volunteered to produce the soft and thick mud mixture, by mixing mud and water with shovels. And others chose to sculpt the muddy mixture for the house’s frame on the top floor. By the end of it, most of us were covered in mud, all in testament to a few hours of manual labour.

Nevertheless, throughout the activity I was enormously satisfied to know we were contributing to such a sustainable means of living. And contributing to the largest mud-house in Britain! To many people like us, so accustomed to city life, the idea of a home made of mud may seem impractical and irrational. But looking back over the day, with Lutfi’s commentary and explanations, mud seemed to be the perfect choice. Humans’ physical origin being mud, using it to erect a family home, for me represented what Lutfi had been reiterating all throughout the day – acknowledging unison with nature. What I found particularly incredible was that all the building, development and work on the farm had been done mostly by him and his family, with little outside help. And this is where the opening quote comes in. 99% of Lutfi’s customers are non-Muslims, with little support from the Muslim community, nevertheless his continuous employment and service to organic and Islamic methods of farming, sustainable means of living and contentment with nature, exemplified for me what the quote is all about. I learnt that connecting with nature, even for a short amount of time by planting vegetable seeds or the like, has the ability of uniting us with the most basic foundations of the earth and can potentially counteract the mounting materialism of our minds.

Find out more about Willowbrook Farm here

By Zaynab Abdullah