
social.group.members
🇬🇧🕌 A group for Muslims in UK, where we celebrate our faith and cultural diversity.
@sae123
Since everyone apart from actual 92 kids commented yesterday I feel like there should be a 90s nostalgia group on Muzz
@arrian988633
Is there anyone who is searching for Bangladeshi man for marriage?
@hira45990818
Tell me what is your heart Red ❤️or black 🖤??
@ITSJKaayy
Hello
@Naz60739023
*Takeaway:
Online argument addiction isn’t about “people loving drama” — it’s a psychological loop engineered by platforms + human biology.
It’s literally a dopamine feedback cycle, mixed with ego, loneliness, and algorithmic manipulation.
Here’s the clean, structured breakdown — the real mechanics behind why people get hooked — with Guided Links so you can go deeper into any part.
Every notification, reply, like, or insult triggers a tiny dopamine spike.
The cycle goes:
It becomes a chemical loop, not a rational one.
This is why people stay up till 3AM arguing with strangers.
Arguing online gives people:
People feel:
“I’m defending truth.”
“I’m smarter than them.”
“I’m educating the masses.”
It becomes a self-esteem booster.
Likes, replies, and engagement feel like:
For people with:
Online arguments become their social arena.
Many people are:
Arguing online gives them:
It fills the emotional void.
Platforms BOOST:
Because conflict = engagement.
So the algorithm:
It’s engineered addiction.
Offline confrontation is scary.
Online confrontation is easy.
People can:
It gives them fake courage.
People use arguments to avoid:
Arguing becomes a distraction from their own life.
Every reply is a “reward”.
Every notification is a “win”.
It’s the same psychology as:
Small unpredictable rewards = maximum addiction.
People join:
Arguing becomes:
It’s emotional, not logical.
Most people think:
“I’m just replying once.”
Then:
They don’t see the addiction forming.
Online argument addiction is:
@Amia98781612
Is it normal for Bangladesh illegal immigrants to sexually assault 12 year-old girls
My story:
In 2006, when I was only 12 years old, my dad helped bring my first cousin (his brother’s son) into the UK illegally
He overstayed his visa and was sleeping on top of restaurants. He was an illegal immigrant.
I was 12, I was a wild kid and I kept going near him to use his phone. When nobody was around, he would grab my breast, squeeze and pinch so hard that it hurt
He did it once in the passageway when the lights were off and I tried to get away, but he held my breast so hard that I forcefully moved away. That hurt.
I was so embarrassed to tell my parents
Anyway, this son of a b**** got deported the same year as he was caught by the police with a bunch of other men inside the restaurant.
A few years ago, his sister‘s husband got him into the UK by using MP Rushanara Ali’s help. I read the letter attachments as I had his email address and password as I used to go to his house to help him because he can’t speak English.
On the letter it stated “Mr Ali needs to come to the UK to help support his disabled nephew”
This disabled nephew died from a terminal illness.
Now the old son of a b***** is trying to falsely claim asylum! He ain’t poor in Bangladesh
When I say that I want him deported, people will accuse me of racism. My brother told me not to say anything as he’s scared of him.
What do I do?!!!!?
Is he gonna seriously attack us and we’re gonna be on the news headlines?
@MohammadFahi47553020
Every morning, a woman would sit at the breakfast table with her husband. Whenever she looked out of their window, she would see their neighbor hanging clothes outside to dry.
She would often comment sarcastically:
“Poor woman, she doesn’t even know how to wash clothes properly. Look, they still look dirty!”
Her husband would quietly listen and say nothing.
This scene continued day after day. Every time she saw her neighbor hanging clothes, she would repeat the same criticism.
But one morning, the woman looked out the window and said in surprise:
“It seems she has finally learned how to wash clothes. They look so clean today!”
Her husband smiled calmly and replied:
“She hasn’t changed at all. I simply woke up early this morning and cleaned our window.”
Silence filled the room.
The woman realized that the problem was never with her neighbor’s clothes, but with the window through which she was looking at them.
Lesson:
Before judging or criticizing others, first clean the window through which you see the world.
Because sometimes the problem is not reality itself, but the way we choose to see it
@ivrahim
is there a digital death committee, somewhere where any muslim can sign up, donate, and see when janazah are?
death committee as in communal funds for local deaths where our contribution helps towards our own death costs.
i’ve come across cast based ones which are word of mouth which seems wild in an age of disunity. and am struggling to hear back or connect with funeral services & imams.