🍚 For the Love of Ḥusayn… and the IRS: Muharram Meals & Divine Money Laundering in Dearborn

It’s Muharram in Dearborn. The black flags are up. The microphones are louder than your neighbor’s illegal exhaust pipe. The majlis is in full swing. Somewhere in the distance, a grown man is dramatically sobbing into a $900 shemagh.

But let’s talk about what really brings the crowd: The Free Food.

Not just any food—Food for the Love of Ḥusayn.

Rice with a side of redemption. Kabob kissed by martyrdom. Biryani so blessed, you’d think it came down with the revelation itself.

You’ll hear it a thousand times over:

“This is for Imam Ḥusayn.”

“May Allah accept.”

“Eat. It’s all sadaqa.”

But let’s cut the tabbouleh: we need to talk about what’s really being served here.

Because behind that cloud of righteous steam from the rice cookers lies something far spicier:

Dearborn’s holiest front for untraceable cash.

🧼 Halal-Washed & Heaven-Approved

In a city where half the businesses operate in cash, one question looms large every Muharram:

Where did this food come from?

Not who cooked it—we know it was Auntie Fatima in someone’s basement for 13 hours straight.

We mean: Who funded it? And why does the guy handing it out look like he owns five vape shops and a six-figure tax problem?

Let’s call it what it is:

Spiritual money laundering.

The Love of Husayn™ has become the most unregulated, untouchable, IRS-proof funnel for all kinds of shady blessings.

• That guy who hasn’t filed taxes since Obama? “May Allah reward him for the water bottles.”

• The one who paid his employee in cash for 2 years then sponsored the Arba’een bus trip? “Mashallah, he gives a lot.”

• The real estate agent who “flipped” three houses and now hands out chickpeas in a tent every night? “He’s doing it for the thawab, bro.”

No receipts, no audits—just vibes, black banners, and vats of lamb stew.

🕌 When a Grill Becomes a Shield

There’s something beautiful and absolutely bulletproof about religious grief in Dearborn:

You can’t question it.

Try asking where the donation money went and you’ll be accused of disrespecting the martyrs.

Ask why a 23-year-old is handing out $2000 worth of beef plates and suddenly you’re “attacking the culture.”

In reality, half the crowd doesn’t know if they’re mourning or just pre-gaming for free dessert.

Somewhere between “Labayka Ya Husayn” and “Do you want extra yogurt?”

Someone’s money just got washed cleaner than the prayer rugs at the masjid.

🧾 Sadaqa or Smoke Screen?

Let’s be honest—Muharram generosity is a brilliant loophole.

You get:

• Divine reward ✅

• Social credit ✅

• IRS confusion ✅

• A solid reputation as “that generous brother” ✅

Meanwhile, no one’s asking:

• Why is your name missing from every payroll report?

• How did you afford a pop-up tent, 10,000 portions of rice, and a branded cooler full of rosewater?

• What exactly is your business again?

Because you served free food for Husayn, bro. That’s the celestial equivalent of a burner identity.

You can park your Escalade outside, hand out food with a tear in your eye, and no one will mention the sketchy Zelle payments coming in from three countries and a cousin named Hajj Abu Bitcoin.

🐪 The Original Martyr Deserved Better

Look, Imam Husayn died resisting corruption and tyranny. He starved. His children starved. He died on principles modern Arab men can’t even spell without autocorrect.

So maybe—just maybe—using his name to funnel unreported income through lentil stew and Snapple isn’t the peak of spiritual integrity?

“We mourn the oppressed,”

he says, pulling a wad of undeclared hundreds out of his glovebox and tipping the teenage volunteer like it’s a drive-thru window.

If only the IRS knew how much holy rice gets exchanged per capita in Dearborn during these 10 days, we’d be on a Netflix docuseries by now.

Final Thought: Faith Without Receipts Is Just PR

To everyone genuinely feeding the community, honoring Husayn, and doing it out of love—thank you. You are the soul of this city.

To everyone else laundering your guilt through baklava and pretending to be pious while dodging taxes—may your rice clump and your meat be dry.

In Dearborn, even your sins wear black during Muharram.

Yours truly,

Habib