The Abraham Global Peace Initiative masquerades as an organization promoting peace but in its stated mission, seeks to ‘counter anti-Semitism, combat Holocaust denial, advance The Abraham Accords, defend Israel,’ etc., but blatantly ignores Palestinian human rights. Its Education Advisory Committee is filled to the brim with Zionists. I would question why the National Post would publish this one-sided article by Avi Benlolo, but then again, the National Post has a historical track record of promoting such groups who support Israeli apartheid and illegal occupation.

Most Canadians appreciate the University of Windsor’s effort to come to a peaceful resolution demonstrating a commitment to human rights, justice, and transparency. It is an institution that defends the right to freedom of expression (a freedom that Avi Benlolo would love to quash in his blind defense of Israeli massacres). The University of Windsor has lived up to its own values and standards of academic freedom, equity, and diversity. It is commendable that the university did not shut down the encampment and it has established itself as a leader in the fight for social justice. Unlike Avi Benlolo, the University of Windsor has taken a stand against Israeli human rights abuses. Other academic institutions should follow the leadership of President Robert Gordon and adopt similar policies and practices.

Avi Benlolo slanders the brave students as trying to “demonize, defame, and destabilize a fellow democracy – the State of Israel.”

Firstly, if it was a democracy it would allow Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza to vote in its elections. If it was a democracy it would not have abducted 9,600 Palestinian hostages since October 7th without charge and subjected them to vile torture methods including rape and vicious physical beatings. 

Secondly, Israel has demonized, defamed, and destabilized itself by conducting a brutal Nazi-style massacre of tens of thousands of Palestinians, carrying out a plethora of human rights abuses, and committing acts of terror against innocent civilians.

The agreement acknowledges a United Nations database of “companies whom it has identified are engaged in illegal Israeli settlement enterprise in the occupied Palestinian territory.” A real human rights advocate would encourage Israeli settlements to conform to international law so that they can remove themselves from the UN database. Avi Benlolo fails to do so.

He loses all credibility when he whines against recognizing anti-Palestinian racism. He makes clear that all he cares about is discrimination against Jews and not discrimination against Arabs, Palestinians, or Muslims.

Although over 100,000 Palestinians have been either killed or injured by barbaric Israeli terror, Avi Benlolo focuses on hate crimes against the Jewish community, the numbers of which have been artificially inflated by Jewish groups counting criticism of Israel as anti-semitism. Other communities don’t inflate their numbers just to mislead the public. Muslims don’t count criticism of Saudi Arabia’s human rights record as Islamophobic. Russians don’t count criticism of Russia’s invasion as Russophobic. People like Benlolo inflate the anti-semtism stats, by counting legitimate criticism of Israeli invasion, occupation, and human rights abuses.

In line with inflating numbers, he continues with the erroneous statement: “1,200 Hamas victims killed on October 7.” Almost half of these were Israeli soldiers (Palestinians have a right to defend themselves after all), and many of the Israeli victims were killed by Israeli tanks and helicopters in an indiscriminate Hannibal Directive to limit how many hostages were taken.

This historic University of Windsor agreement follows Canadian values, Avi Benlolo does not, as he ends his article promoting the racist policy of hiring pro-Israel students. It is sickening that the National Post would publish such hateful viewpoints by giving a pulpit to Benlolo to spew his racist rhetoric.

 

Related:

– “What Did You Just Say?”: Introducing The New MM Open Letter Series I Dear Mr. Fareed Zakaria

– “What Did You Just Say?”: The MM Open Letter Series I Dear Ms. Julia Hartley-Brewer

 

The post “What Did You Just Say?”: A MuslimMatters Open Letter Series I Dear Avi Benlolo appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Zainab bint Younus and Dr. Monia Mazigh speak about the importance of being proactive advocates in a time of increasing Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian sentiments. As individuals and as a community, how can we effectively combat Islamophobia? What do we need to know about historic and systemic Islamophobia? Dr. Monia shares her own insights and experiences on fighting Islamophobia, in particular with regards to fighting for her husband’s release from illegal imprisonment and torture in Syria.

Dr. Monia Mazigh was born and raised in Tunisia and immigrated to Canada in 1991. She speaks Arabic, French, and English fluently and holds a Ph.D. in finance from McGill University. Dr. Mazigh was catapulted onto the public stage in 2002 when her husband Maher Arar, was deported to Syria where he was tortured and held without charge for over a year. During that time, Dr. Mazigh campaigned vigorously for her husband’s release and later fought to re-establish his reputation and sought reparations. Dr. Mazigh has since written several books.

Related:

Recognizing The Personal Perspectives Of Muslim Student Experiences

Responding To Religious Harassment In US Schools – A Guide

The post [Podcast] How to Fight Islamophobia | Monia Mazigh appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

“There are seven whom Allah will shade with His shade on the day when there will be no shade except His: the just ruler; a young man who grows up worshipping his Lord; a man whose heart is attached to the mosque; two men who love one another for the sake of Allaah and meet and part on that basis; a man who is called by a woman of rank and beauty and says ‘I fear Allaah’; a man who gives in charity and conceals it to such an extent that his left hand does not know what his right hand gives; and a man who remembers Allaah when he is alone, and his eyes fill up.” 

— The Prophet

(Al-Bukhaari, no. 620; Muslim, no. 1712; and others)

 ***

[This Islamic short story has been adapted from The Brothers Grimm’s “Little Briar Rose.”]

A Beautiful Beginning

The land where the Silk Road spread was being torn apart.

Soviets shut the doors of mosques and madrasas. They drove out imams and teachers with beards growing on their chins and duppis resting on their heads. They declared war on the long paranja robe and the flowing chachvan veil.

They knew no mercy.

One man and woman in Shahrixon begged for mercy from their Lord. They rushed to Pansod masjidi, swallowing their fear and raising their hands. Without a child that they could teach, their Islam would die with them.

That night, the woman dreamt that a voice said to her: “Your du’a has been accepted. A daughter shall be born to you in a year.”

The father and mother rejoiced. All traces of apprehension left them, and when the girl was born in Muharram, they considered it a new, beautiful beginning. 

The father decided to host a generous feast—both for his daughter’s aqiqah and on the day of ‘Ashura. All were invited; his family, companions, and neighbors. He also reached out to wise women from the community—twelve of them, even though there were thirteen—so that his daughter might know her future kholas and receive their blessings. Besides, they were going to go again to Pansod masjidi out of gratitude for Allah . The list of guests had to be smaller than it usually was, for fear of being discovered.

As quietly as they could, the congregation filled the empty masjidi. All traces of apprehension left them. They ate as moonlight glittered on their golden plates of rice plov dripping with oil, wrapped manty stuffed with beef and onions and samsa set to burst with potatoes and vegetables. Their hands passed around mutton shashlyk skewers when they were not diving into bowls of steamy laghman noodles, hearty mashurda soup, and cooling salads.

Some of the people kept watch, but even they began to relax as the merriment went on. There was a tranquility in the air that none could explain. If they were caught, they would simply say that their houses were not big enough for the joyous occasion. And the revolutionaries from before had met here—perhaps the religious would also be spared.

When they were finished, the child received abundant prayers:

“May Allah grant her virtue!”

“May Allah grant her beauty!”

“May Allah grant her wealth!”

On and on they went, making du’a for the girl as they would for their own children. Nearly half an hour passed, and it was only the eleventh wise woman’s turn. Then a shrill voice rang throughout the musalla.

“May Allah grant her death!” 

It was the thirteenth wise woman, snubbed by the lack of invitation, and furious that the community would take such a risk. Enraged, she continued.

“You endanger our well-being like this?! How dare you?! When the Soviets will arrest and execute our men if they catch you! May Allah grant her death at fifteen—the age we all learn to weave on our spindles—let her prick her finger on it, and bleed to death!”

Everyone was stunned into silence, save for the twelfth wise woman, who opened her palms as soon as the thirteenth had slammed the door.

“Ya Allah,” she implored. “Let the girl instead fall into sleep. Just as you did for the People of the Cave, protect her from the fitna all around us. It is only a minor death, for such a mere child. Our Lord. We only meant to gather in Your house, to celebrate Your generosity, on a day that You freed Nuh, ‘alayhi al-salam, and Musa, ‘alayhi al-salam. Preserve her Islam, and that of her parents, and those who help raise her. Ameen.”

The Curse Of The Mil

The party quickly dispersed. Worried that the thirteenth wise woman’s du’a might be accepted, the father asked all the women in the community to burn their spindles. Understanding his worry, they obeyed his command without hesitation.

Yet the thirteenth wise woman’s other prediction came true. The Soviets called it the “Great Purge” of “public enemies.” In reality, it was a massacre of intellectuals and innocents. Among the slain were Abdulhamid Sulaymon oʻgʻli Yunusov, the man who translated Shakespeare’s works into Uzbek, and Muhammadsharif Soʻfizoda, known as O‘zbekiston xalq shoiri—the People’s poet of Uzbekistan. 

There were many other martyrs, whose graves—and names—we still do not know.

The girl grew up to pray for them all, and for the others resisting the trial all around them. Thankfully, the du’as of the other wise women had manifested in the young girl. She was virtuous and beautiful, and her family had amassed wealth despite all circumstances. They were so wealthy, in fact, that they were often gone to trade with those outside of Shahrixon. As responsible and mature as their daughter was, they trusted her to take care of herself.

They began to relax, as they did so many years ago. On her fifteenth birthday, her parents allowed her to remain alone to spend the day as she pleased. 

As all young women are, she was curious, and wanted to set foot inside of a masjidi just once. The wise women had told her stories about how, long before the cruel atheism of the Soviet Union, they used to visit the masjidi often. Wistfully, they had told her how serene it was to read Qur’an there, and pray as though one was breaking the surface of a tumultuous sea.

She had to try it. Just once.

After her aqiqah, no one else had stepped into Pansod masjidi. It was clearly abandoned. The Soviets had driven people out of buildings, and now, were too busy arresting them. No one would ever suspect to find her there!

She wanted to stare longer at the ayaat decorating the walls, and painted flowers that danced around them. And the vaulted muqarnas in the columns! She imagined the artisans from Kokand and the other craftsmen taking the bees’ honeycombs as inspiration. Everything was so ornate and beautiful. It was a shame that it had gone to waste.

Once inside, even with it all covered in dust, the young lady marveled at the masjidi and its attached spaces: the khanqah, a lodge for the devout, and the musalla, the expansive prayer hall that seemed to have room for everyone. And the dome above her head… She sighed in awe. Who would want to shut this down? Surely, only someone with evil in their heart.

Ksh-ksh-ksh-ksh-ksh—

A strange sound echoed in the empty masjid, an unfamiliar noise. It sounded like something clicking and readjusting, but it did not appear threatening. Intrigued, she tiptoed across the masjidi, trying to track down the source of the sound. The khanqah. Someone must still be here!

Cushions were littered throughout the khanqah, but there was no one seated on them. Instead, in the center of the room was an old lady working on a strange machine. The machine looked like wooden branches tied together through threads of their own, gears and knobs chatting away. A beautiful silk cloth was in its grasp. 

Like the ones her parents and kholas made, long ago! This lady must have known them! It had gotten dangerous, they said, as someone could prick their finger and—

“It is rude to stare,” the old woman said simply. 

The girl gasped. “Assalomu alaykum, khola!” she greeted earnestly. “I—subhan’Allah, I have only heard stories about silk. Is that how it is made?” the girl asked, breathlessly.

“Yes,” the old woman replied. “We call this a mil.”

A spindle.

The word was foreign to her. “What does that mean? What does it do?”

“Why not help me and find out?” The old woman made way for her new guest. Strangely, the girl felt as though the mil were beckoning her too. Silk was in everything beautiful. Hijabs. Prayer mats. Wall tapestries. What a gift it would be, to take what came from a worm and put it on a wall!

Without another thought, the young lady set her hand upon the mil. No sooner had it touched the spindle that her finger was pricked, and her body fell to the cushions. 

A sleeping beauty was all that remained. The old woman disappeared.

Little Bayramgul

The community spent the entire day looking for her. Despite the panic, their horror subsided as they stepped into the masjidi. They yawned, and slowed their steps, and eventually laid down on the carpet. Some snored, and others were silent, but all remained asleep.

A massive bramble of thorns sprouted all around the masjidi. The Soviets did not dare to touch them. Anyone who did became lodged in their grasp. Despite the rumors that there were people taking refuge inside, no one was brave enough to seek them out, be it for rescue or for arrest. 

The Uzbeks referred to the young woman as “Little Bayramgul.” Bayrum was “festive,” because she had gone missing on her birthday, and gul, a rose. She had been beautiful and her absence was felt all throughout their community.

On and on Little Bayramgul slept. Some even said that she might have died, but no one was brave enough to enter the masjidi and check. All came to know her legend, including a young man who rode into Shahrixon from far away.

“Beware of getting too close, youngster!” an old man warned him. “Do you not know the story of Little Bayramgul?!”

“Of course I do,” the young man responded, dismounting his horse. “My grandfather told me the story. That is why I am here.”

The elder sighed. “Because she is beautiful?”

The youth raised his eyebrows. “No. Because it is wrong. Our sister sleeps inside a masjidi—an abandoned one, no less—and these Soviets could tear it apart at any minute.”

“All who have tried to approach it have died.”

“All of us shall die.” 

“See those bones on the ground? Those thorns hate intruders.”

“I am not afraid, and I am not an intruder. Perhaps the house of Allah only opens itself to its guests, and not its enemies.”

“You speak of Allah , son…” The hand of the old man reached for an invisible beard. Once, long ago, he may have been able to thread his fingers through it. “Is this not a sign that Allah is keeping them safe? The Great Purge was only a year ago. Who knows what they will do next? Oh…”

“Exactly, hoja. My brothers and sisters are trapped in there!” The young man’s earnestness shone through his face. “And I should set them free. They ought to be among us again. before something else happens.”

“You would bring them out again? Why? It is so soon…”

“Those Soviets who tried to go in are long gone, as well as those who might have gone after their comrades. They care more for people now, not buildings. We have saved the story of Little Bayramgul. It is time to save her as well.”

“Youth is wasted on the young,” the old man sighed, and finally relented. He had not the ability to chase after the young man anyway.

The young man did not run towards the thorns. Instead, he walked cautiously towards them, and much to his surprise, the thorny bushes began to bloom. Roses of all colors welcomed him, parting a path for him to enter the masjidi. He looked behind him in wonderment. The thorns had returned behind him, protecting him from anyone who might try to go after him. 

Even the old man was shocked. “ What are you standing there for?! Go on! And say the du’a, will you?!”

Despite his nervousness, a smile broke out on the young man’s face. “Allahumma inni as’aluka min rahmatik.” Oh Allah, I ask from your mercy.

PC: Tolga Ahmetler (unsplash)

His footsteps were soundless, though little puffs of dust rose from the ground with every step. Light streamed in from the windows, and yet, everyone in the masjidi was still dreaming. Of what, he did not know. 

He knelt by the menfolk and tried to wake them. They remained still despite his gentle urging. So he would have to find her first… judging by the legend, she should be easy to spot.

His heart broke as he explored the masjidi. It was tidy, but it was not cleaned. The memory of his footprints remained on the carpet. Untouched Qur’ans remained upright on the shelves. 

More painful than the dust and unopened masaahif was the silence. A masjidi should never be this empty.

He left the khanqah for last, dreading what he might find there. His teachers from madrasa had told him how they used to spend their time in retreats of dhikr and qira’a. It was a time that he wished he could have been a part of. 

The young man swallowed. He hoped that his teachers were still safe, in his own hometown. A part of him wished that they, too, had merely fallen asleep.

His thoughts scattered the moment his eyes fell upon Little Bayramgul. Stretched out on the center of the khanqah floor, next to the dangerous spindle, the young woman lay still. She was just as everyone had said—beautiful, and strikingly so. 

Immediately, he looked away. How was he supposed to wake her? Suddenly, his previous exchange with the old man seemed hypocritical of him. He was very afraid!

“I… Ya Allah. Make this easy.”

The young man had no idea what to do. He could not touch her, just as he could not touch the twelve wise women scattered throughout the musalla. His voice was useless, just as it had been with her father and his relatives.

Perhaps he needed to deal with the mil, since that was the cause of the issue? He could destroy it!

He approached the spinning machine, inspecting it with a careful eye. It was mostly sound—save for a drop of blood that marked where Little Bayramgul had pricked her finger. With a sure hand, he swiped his sword through the structure. Again, and again, he hacked at the machine until the threads fell apart and the beams split open. Finally, the spindle collapsed with a loud crash.

The young lady stirred.

He swallowed. “Bayramgul?”

“Mmm…” She shook her head and yawned. “What’s that?”

“What they call you.”

“Call me? Who is they? And who are you? And where am I?”

He knelt on the ground, unsure of how to explain the mystery of her sudden sleep and the contagion that had spread around the masjidi. He was at a loss for what to do. “Please, do not be afraid. You are in the masjidi still. Remember your fifteenth birthday—”

“What is going on in here?!” a low voice boomed. 

Oh no. The father.

“We heard a loud crash!” a high-pitched voice. Eleven more voices rose from around the masjidi.

“And the lady’s voice!”

“And a man’s voice!”

“My daughter! My daughter!”

“Is she here?!”

“I knew it! I knew that my du’a would be accepted!”

The room became very full, very quickly. Keeping his head and voice low, the young man advised, “Everyone, please… we are in a masjidi.”

“Qalam Qilichdan Qudratli”

The young hero’s explanation to the village people was rather brief, but the time it took for him to say it was not. Among the ruckus of Bayramgul’s family chimed in the old man from outside. The thorns had wilted and he, too, had a clear path to join the rest of the congregation. Many of the wise women recognized him and believed his testimony. The Pasod family was thrilled. They embraced each other, praising Allah for keeping them safe and that they had found their young lady once more. 

Bayramgul was pleased with her new name, and indebted to her savior for braving the task around him. She urged her family to host him for dinner. To which he responded, “As long as it will not invite the bad du’a of the thirteenth wise woman!”

Everyone erupted in laughter. The masjidi felt different—as though, now, it was old from use by the congregation. The wise women left to make preparations, with Bayramgul’s parents trailing behind her as they too made their way home.

The young girl was quiet, trying to stretch out her last few moments in the masjidi. She had no idea when she would return, and she felt so remorseful that for all the time she had spent there, she had been asleep. At the very least, she wanted to pray salah there. But it just would not do, after years of sleep…

Her savior seemed even more troubled. As they walked closer to the exit, he lingered behind, gazing at the walls and murmuring under his breath. “What a shame,” Bayramgul managed to catch.

The pen is mightier than the sword. [PC: Maryam B (unsplash)]

Casting a glance at the young man, Bayramgul sighed.“I do not even know your name,” she said sadly. “But since you gave me a nickname, I shall give you one too. Botir!”

He smiled shyly. “‘Brave.’ Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Botir. You are also very silent.”

Botir’s expression was one of undefined pain. 

Bayramgul sniffed, trying to think of what more to say. “Is it my family? You do not have to worry about them anymore. I know we gave you quite the start.”

“I am not worried about them,” he confessed. “I am worried about the masjidi.”

“People will visit it again. I am sure of it. We were kept in it for so long… and you came in. All those thorns you told me about… it was a sign!”

“Maybe so. But others may not see it that way.”

“We can make them see it that way.”

“I hope my fine work on the spindle did not give you any ideas…”

She laughed. “No, no. What is it they say? Qаlаm qiliсhdаn qudrаtli. The pen is mightier than the sword.”

“Indeed,” he said. He drew out a pen from his rucksack and looked at it thoughtfully. “Indeed it is.”

–

A message was found on the inner wall of Pasod masjidi that called for the people to save the mosque from destruction. That message was copied and transferred to the Shahrixon Museum. Allah knows best who wrote it.

 

The End

 

Related:

– The Six Fasts – A Short Story

– No, My Son | A Short Story

The post Little Bayramgul – A Short Story appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

While I do not want to discourage the memorization of the Qur’an in general, we need to talk about the many Muslims who misunderstand the importance and function of memorizing the Qur’an.

First of all, if you want to be a seeker of knowledge or a scholar, then you either must be a hafidh or be working towards being one. The Qur’an is the key to all knowledge. At the very least be consistently working towards it if you are not already one.

But if your intention is not to become a seeker of knowledge or a scholar, then it is different. Memorizing the Qur’an is not obligatory, but learning theology, fiqh, tasawwuf, and tajwid to the extent you can recite the Fatihah properly is. If you do not understand enough of Islam to have correct belief, protect yourself from doubts, fulfill obligations in worship and society, avoid sins, and maintain a relationship and connection with Allah then memorizing the Qur’an is a secondary endeavour, and to prioritize it before the others is a serious miscalculation of direction.

As for those parents who force their kids into completing hifdh programs, take heed. It is not obligatory for your kid to be hafidh, but it is obligatory for you to impart the aforementioned obligatory Islamic knowledge unto them, whether it be from yourself (if you are learned) or by signing your kid up for classes. If you make your kid memorize the Qur’an but they don’t have sufficient knowledge to understand it and contextualize it, they don’t receive the necessary tarbiyah to absorb it into their character, they have to go through oppression and suffering at your hands or their teachers’ to complete their hifdh, or your intention is corrupt and you are just putting your kid through hell so you can brag about it to your friends, then you are just placing the burden of proof on your child. At any moment they can implode and all that Qur’an in their heart will be a proof against them on the Last Day.

And they do implode. There is a reason I wrote this post. I’m tired of seeing and hearing about huffadh leaving Islam, forgetting all their Qur’an, turning to sin, and grossly misunderstanding the religion. Stop treating the hifdh of the Qur’an like a replacement for a strong Islamic Education. And if it wasn’t clear already then reading a translation is not even close to enough. Most mosques have hifdh programs and nothing else in terms of structured Islamic education for children.

As for the hafidh: Please note that your hifdh has not made you into a seeker of knowledge. You will not truly understand the Qur’an until you learn other Islamic sciences too. Don’t be in a rush to teach or do da’wah just because you’ve done your hifdh. People will praise you and the ignorant will come to you thinking you are a ‘Shaykh’. Don’t let your nafs fall for it. There is a reason the majority of the fuqaha (The Hanafis, Malikis and Shafiis) preferred the more knowledgeable in fiqh to lead the prayer over the ‘most read’.

Hifdh without Arabic is pointless. Arabic alone applied to understand the Qur’an without obligatory (and further) knowledge from the scholarly tradition often leads to misguidance. Recitation of the Qur’an without the rules of the Qurra is not giving the Qur’an its due right. At least ensure that you know how to recite the Qur’an well in one riwayah e.g. Hafs.

Just like a seeker of knowledge, mind your intentions. Its a great blessing and act of worship to memorize the Qur’an. Don’t do it to be known as the ‘qari’ or the ‘hafidh’. Don’t let it all go to waste. Remember, the ‘people of the Qur’an’ are not necessarily those who have memorized it, they are those who also understand it, are companions of it, understand it, teach it and act upon it.

Related:

[Man2Man Podcast] Sweetness and Success with the Qur’an

[Podcast] Raising Children As Huffadh | Sh Fatima Barkatullah

The post Why Your Kids Should Not Be Huffadh appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

 “Verily with hardship comes ease.” (94:5) We’ve all heard or read this verse multiple times in our lives – I had, too. But I truly felt and experienced the meaning of the “ease” with the “difficulty” last year when I became pregnant… and three months later, found out that my Mum’s cancer had returned.

My Mum had been diagnosed with endometrial cancer a few years ago. The exhaustion from the early morning runs to the hospital, staying there the whole day, and returning home shattered, only to repeat the same routine all over again, day after day, still hadn’t truly left me. Allah had other plans for Mum and me.

Mum’s cancer had definitely come back. The pain in her back was from a 4 cm lump pressing into her bladder and kidneys. Alhamdulillah, the kidneys were working fine, but a major surgery had to be performed to remove the lump and reconstruct the bladder and urethra as soon as possible. 

This time, the train journeys felt so much longer. Walking from platform to platform with my painful pelvic girdle pain was a struggle. Nor was  the physical element of it all that got to me most, although it was certainly the most difficult. Emotionally, I felt overwhelmed, frustrated, upset, and guilty. I felt so guilty for having all these emotions! If I was so tired, how would this affect my baby? You shouldn’t be crying, I used to tell myself, it’s not good for your baby.

The weeks went by with Mum’s appointments and my own midwife appointments in unison; finally, the night before the surgery arrived. I wiped down my mother’s body using the wipes they had given to us, hiding back my tears and keeping up the brave face she needed to see. I kept praying: Ya Allah, please make her get through this again. Please allow her to meet my baby.

We both woke up before the alarm went off. I gave Mum two Fortisips to drink, we prayed Fajr and then headed to the hospital. I told Mum to lie down on her hospital bed so that she could rest, and I took pictures of her for memories, in case something bad happened. The doctors came in and explained the details of the surgery. Unlike last time, this was a longer talk. It would take 45 minutes for the anaesthetic to begin working, and the surgery could take up to 8 hours. My body froze; why would it take so long? I wondered. But I couldn’t show my concern; I had to be strong for Mum. There was also the risk that Mum wouldn’t make it; but of course this was the best hospital in Europe, they reassured us, and we had nothing to worry about.

Last time, I stayed beside Mum as she lay on the bed, holding her hand until the anaesthetic kicked in. This time I knew I wouldn’t be able to, and so did Mum. It would be too difficult for me and we had to think about the baby. I hugged her and sobbed while she walked with the nurses and left to face the third biggest surgery of her life. Once she was gone I fell apart. If I wasn’t pregnant, I would have been able to handle it this time too, I thought. I could have gone inside with her, and sat next to her for those 45 minutes before she fell unconscious. All these guilt-stricken thoughts were running through my mind, accompanied by uncontrollable tears.

After a few complications during the surgery, Mum was taken to the ICU where she spent the next 3 days. Then she was transferred to the High Dependency Unit for a further 5 days, after which she was admitted onto the ward. Her recovery in hospital was rough, like last time, but in those difficult moments, Allah always sent help. I knew that He was truly looking out for us; ‘the ease with the difficulty’. 

I remember one of those particular moments of ease, or “miracles” as I had now started to call them. Mum was in the High Dependency Unit experiencing bladder contractions. When a friend asked me about Mum’s health, I explained that it was as though Mum was in labour. It all became too much for me, and when I was able to escape to the waiting room, I let out a heartfelt cry, begging for Allah’s help to come now.

We were waiting for Mum’s scan results when I got another message from that same friend who gave me the number of her uncle, a senior urologist. I explained Mum’s situation to him and couldn’t believe it when he told me that he had trained the same surgeon who had performed Mum’s reconstruction surgery! He promised to contact the surgeon immediately to follow up on the scan results. Alhamdulillah, I was updated soon after with the confirmation that there was a minor internal leak in my mum’s bladder, but nothing to worry about. I couldn’t believe it; I had received this information before the doctor in the ward SubhanAllah! “Verily with hardship comes ease.”

After another month in hospital with more difficult moments and even more miracles, Mum was discharged, and we finally made our way back home. I could not thank Allah enough for allowing my Mum to walk into her home without any aid or support. As the weeks at home became months, we got ready for the next chapter in Mum’s life: chemotherapy.

Alhamdulillah last week, Mum completed the first of her chemotherapy sessions. Allah has once again provided us with ease, by making it so that our neighbour is available seven days a week to care for my mum while I am away to have my baby.

I pray that nobody ever has to see their loved ones go through something as scary as cancer. However, if you are ever put in this position, I’d like my story to offer you some hope and comfort. I, and many others in this world are living examples of the way Allah gets you through your most difficult of times. If you are going through a similar test, I want you to firmly believe that He will provide you with openings when you need them the most. He will give you those moments of relief when you feel so helpless and lost. He will look after you, take care of you in such beautiful ways that you will be left in awe. No doubt it will be hard, so so hard, but know that His words are true, “verily with hardship comes ease.”

—————————————————————————————————————————

I’d like to thank Allah  for the moments of ease that He provided for me and the many lessons He taught me over the past six months. I’d like to express my heartfelt gratitude to my family and friends who supported Mum and I in one of the most difficult times of our lives; your Duas, your advice, your visits, your phone calls, your home cooked food and your hospitality helped us get through this ordeal. May Allah bless you all in abundance.

 The journey is not yet over for my Mum as she continues with her radiotherapy. I’d like to request all the readers to keep my Mum in your Duas; may Allah bless our Mothers with long, healthy and peaceful lives, and bless us all with a strong faith to get through all the difficult moments in life. Ameen.

Related:

Difficulties Are Our Biggest Blessings: Notes From A Bereaved Mother With Three Calls From Jannah

Access to Healthcare is a Muslim Issue

The post Cancer, Mum, & Me: A Story of Hardship and Ease appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

“Be mindful of Allah, and you will find Him in front of you. Recognize and acknowledge Allah in times of ease and prosperity, and He will remember you in times of adversity. And know that what has passed you by [and you have failed to attain] was not going to befall you, and what has befallen you was not going to pass you by. And know that victory comes with patience, relief with affliction, and hardship with ease.”

— The Prophet ﷺ

Hadith 19, 40 Hadith an-Nawawi

[Adapted from the Brothers’ Grimm’s “Cinderella.”]

She still remembered the day of her mother’s janazah.

The warm spring day mocked the chill of her mothers’ corpse. Instead of the gentle recitation of Qur’an echoing throughout the halls, the apartment reverberated with violent coughs.

The doctors called it “COVID.” The young girl called it a killer.

“Ya Binti,” her mother choked. “‘Be mindful of Allah, and you will find Him in front of you…’”

“But what does that mean?” the young girl interrupted. “I thought Allah would never be in front of us.”

“He is—” Her mother gulped in breaths of air shakily, then exhaled it in staccato coughs. “‘With you, wherever you are.’ Have taqwa, and do good deeds, and He will never leave you.”

The girl still didn’t understand. Even more tragically, her mother could offer no explanation before her death. 

The child wept and wept. All around her, people told her to rejoice. After all, her mother’s body was washed in the city of the Prophet ﷺ, and laid to rest in Jannatul Baqi.

Despite the blessing of her mother’s final resting place, the young girl couldn’t visit her mother’s grave. Her eyes followed her father when he went, while her small hands clung to the gates. She learned quickly that to weep outside was not allowed, even reprehensible. Crying alone became second nature. Her tears kept her company.

Two more seasons passed until her father married again—a widow who had lost her own husband to the same virus—and he once more became a parent to two stepdaughters. Alas, tragedy had hardened the hearts of the new family rather than softened them.

The stepmother was often silent, except for when she would issue orders. She was a Makkan businesswoman, delighted that she would have more help for her purposes. Soon enough, the girl and her father moved from one holy city to another.

“She puckers her lips like a fish!” her new stepsisters complained about her. “Your mother is dead, just like our father. Enough crying, unless you want us to leave you entirely alone!”

They often accompanied her stepmother to her business, adept in the ways of the market, and left the girl to tend to all of the chores at home. She lived her life covered in dust—be it the stove or the chimney—and so the family called her “‘Afraa’.” Dust-colored.

Wealth flooded into the family, and ‘Afra did her best not to drown. As she worked, she would listen to playlists of Qur’an and hadith. Her mother’s words finally made sense—they were referencing Surah al-Hadid and the collection of Imam al-Nawawi. If only she could learn about other verses and ahadith!

‘Afraa’ prayed for the success of her stepmother’s business, so that her dream of studying at an Islamic university might become a reality. She cleaned and cooked without complaint. Perhaps, one day, she, too, could be busy outside of the four walls of their apartment.

For four years, this was the du’a that frequented her lips. Every tarawih, every tahajjud. The name would change—the Mecca Institute, Al-Azhar, even the Islamic University of Madinah—but the core of her supplication remained: that she wanted to leave behind the dreary dunya in search of the deen.

–

The ninth day of Dhul Hijjah dawned. The most important day of her life.

In truth, it was the most important day in every Muslim’s life. The majority of the ummah knew it as Arafah—the day where two year’s worth of sins would be forgiven from one day of fasting. The Hujjaj knew it as the day that the Prophet ﷺ equated to Hajj itself.

However, for the women of Makkah, this day was sacred for another reason: they must not let the courtyard of the Kaʿaba be empty. They called it Yawm al-Khulayf. 

The Makkan men left for Arafah, Mina, and Muzdalifah to care for the Hujjaj. Meanwhile, the city’s women and children stayed around the House of Allah. 

‘Afraa’ watched them fill the streets as she wiped her apartment window. There were sprinkles of white among the sea of black; young boys wearing ihram garments while their mothers, sisters, aunts, and grandmothers cloaked themselves in dark abayas. Some were even hostesses for those visiting out of town, and many would later pass out dates to other guests.

A beautiful sight—amatullahs to their Lord and khadimahs to the people.

Her stepsisters and stepmother were following suit. Their gift box business had been a major success during the Hajj season. The women were stuffing a final few boxes with chocolate-covered dates, white ma’moul cookies, stuffed bread, juice, bottles of zamzam, and other surprises for the Hujjaj. Her father, now part of the business’s leadership, was absent from the home to help with the logistics of delivering them.

Her family needed help. ‘Afraa’ quickly scrubbed the window and sat down to join them. The TV blared above them with an aerial view of the Mataf. 

“Labbayk Allahumma labbayk…”

I am here, O Allah, ‘Afraa’ thought. But I wish I was there.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? She folded the top of the very last box, and whispered to herself: “Bismillah.”

“M-May I come with you?” she asked hesitantly.

One of her stepsisters raised an eyebrow. “Where, Guppy? To the bathroom? I don’t need your help there, but thanks anyway. If you need my help, sorry, but I can’t get dirty before I go to the Mataf.”

The other stepsister laughed. ‘Afraa’ pursed her lips—they were trying to get under her skin, to make her remain trapped inside all day as punishment.

“No,” ‘Afraa’ replied patiently. “To the Mataf.”

“Depends. Did you finish everything we asked you to?”

“Yes.”

“Really? Iftar, even?”

“In the fridge, marinating.”

Her second stepsister scoffed. “Surprised you didn’t order in. What about our Eid dresses?”

“Steamed.”

“Not ironed?”

“It would destroy the material.”

“Thank you for being so thoughtful. For once.” Then she shrugged. “Clean up after the mess you made here, then ask Mama. If you’re not too late.”

‘Afraa’ nearly tripped over her abaya to dart for the broom. Stray dust was quickly swept, broken cookies found their way into the dustbin, and torn wrappers were replaced. She cleaned so thoroughly that one would’ve never guessed that the women had spent their afternoon packing dozens of boxes.

She was out of breath by the time she went to address her stepmother. “I wanted—I wanted to join you today… for Yawm al-Khulayf. All the chores… are finished. Can I come with you, please, and help distribute these blessed boxes?”

Her stepmother regarded her the same way she would with a cleaner on the street. She clucked her tongue, and went to inspect the apartment. Her eyes darted over each room, her fingers traced over every piece of furniture. ‘Afraa’ had never known her to be this thorough.

“Well done, ‘Afraa’,” she finally said. “I can see that you’ve worked hard.”

‘Afraa’ nodded earnestly.

“In fact, I believe that you kept everything so clean that you even kept the family gifts out of sight.”

Gifts?

“Is that the case?”

The stepsisters covered their mouths with their hands. ‘Afraa’s heart sank. She had never been tasked with finding gifts for the family.

“I didn’t…” she stammered. “I don’t have the money.”

“Oh! Not a problem.” Her stepmother dove a hand into her gemstone-encrusted purse, and flicked a few riyals towards ‘Afraa’. “This should be enough. Girls—tell your stepsister thank you.”

“Thank you, ‘Afraa’!” they responded with voices that dripped with a falsetto glaze. 

“In fact… why don’t you keep a box for yourself?” one of them asked.

The other grinned maliciously. “Oh, yes! That’ll be our gift to you. Since you’ll be working so hard for the rest of the day.”

Her stepmother smiled, and her two daughters affixed themselves to either side of her. Then they bid ‘Afraa’ salam, and, boxes in their manicured hands, left her entirely alone.

–

The unfairness of it all weighed on ‘Afraa’s shoulders, crushing her until her legs gave in, and she sank to the floor. The TV was the only thing louder than her sobs.

“Labbayka laa sharika laka labbayk!”

I’m fasting, she repeated in her mind. I’m fasting, I’m fasting. I can’t let them take the reward of fasting from me too!

“Innalhamda, wan-ni’mata ;aka wa’l mulk!”

Her hands were shaking with anger, but she refused to let them close into fists around the riyals—after all, they showed illustrations of Masjid al-Nabawi and Masjid al-Aqsa. 

Wait, she thought. Riyals. They expect me to go out and spend this money. Who said I couldn’t go to the Mataf on the way!

“Laa sharika lak!”

Despite her excitement, she took great care in making her wudhu, drying herself off completely before she put on a clean black abaya. It would just be a quick detour. She wouldn’t perform umrah on a day like today. Just tawaf and she’d be done! 

‘Afraa’ had her whole path mapped out, marked in her mind just as the name on her sandals were. It was an effort to stop her stepsisters, notorious for taking her things, from taking her shoes as well. “‘Afraa’ Al-Nawari,” they read. 

Then she stuffed the gift box into her drawstring bag. Should she be delayed in getting back, at least she would have a date to break her fast.

Taxis were lining up by the stores outside of her apartment. In fact, ‘Afraa’ could still see her stepfamily struggling to flag a taxi for themselves. She ducked out of sight. How would she avoid seeing them? The crowd was large, of course, but what if she accidentally ran into them in the Mataf?

“5 riyals!” a shopkeeper boomed. “Eid special. Khimar, hijab, niqab.”

‘Afraa’ couldn’t believe that mere moments ago, she had been crying. Now, she was smiling ear to ear. As she tied the new niqab around her nose, relief washed over her. She raised her hand confidently to the street under a new visage of anonymity, and a taxi came almost immediately. The fare was cheap, much less than it should’ve been on a day like this. And for the driver to only take one lady? She felt like a princess in her own private carriage. As if Allah ﷻ was looking out for her, ‘Afraa’, specifically.

Her stomach bubbled with excitement as the minarets came closer into view. The white marble around the extension was gleaming with sunlight. The sky was bright, and the ground was dark from the shadows of women in black abayas approaching the Ka’aba.

She thanked the driver and trailed behind a few other sisters. As she approached the archway, their animated conversations became hushed whispers, until they finally fell silent.

‘Afraa’ mimicked them. She gathered all the words of her du’a inside of her head, tried to separate them like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that had to come together somehow. But at the sight of the Ka’aba, her du’as spilled out, raw and sincere.

“Ya Maani’,” she whispered. “Remove all the barriers between me and my dream.”

It was glorious. The radiance of the gold gilded threads shone brightly against the ebony cloth. If tawaf was not a requirement, ‘Afraa’ imagined that people would simply stand there in awe. Just as she was doing now, and right after Dhuhr, when the sun was right in the center of the sky. The intensity of the heat did nothing to lessen the sense of humility that filled the believers’ hearts at the sight of the Ka’bah.

‘Afraa’ had no time to lose. Quickly, she maneuvered her way through the crowd. Languages  flooded her ears, coming from all sides. Some she recognized—different flavors of Arabic, with their geems and dropped qafs—and unfamiliar tongues entirely. The one common ripple throughout were the prophetic supplications they were all taught to repeat.

‘Afraa’ removed her shoes, placed them in her bag, and began her tawaf. She said the kalimah, salawat, and istighfar for her first three rounds. She made duʿa for the ummah during her fourth round, for her family in the fifth. She prayed for her dunya in the sixth and her akhirah in the seventh. 

At each passing of the Black Stone, she lifted her palms, kissing her fingertips before her hands returned  to her sides once more. When the Yemeni corner came into view, she repeated: “Our Lord, grant us goodness in this life, and goodness in the next.” The words lingered on her tongue, her heart beating in time with the supplications.

Occasionally, ‘Afraa’s gaze was torn away from the Ka’aba to look all around her. Yes, it was all women and children, in black and white—but their skins were all the colors in between. Not all the women of Makkah were Saudi Arabian; some were students that came from abroad, and others had immigrated from countries far away. The sight was almost as beautiful as the Ka’aba itself.

Seven. ‘Afraa’ pulled herself away, ushered by a guard to pray two raka’at at an unoccupied space. She repeated her du’a once more after her taslim, this time, with more conviction, and…

And a man in front of her collapsed.

Others came to his assistance. Fortunately, one man had caught him, and the other was fanning his face. Yet another was calling for help.

‘Afraa’s hands shook again. Is he fasting, or just dehydrated?

In the end, she decided that it didn’t matter—either outcome required that he have food and water. Hurriedly, she reached for the gift box inside of her bag, struggling to pull it out the rest of her belongings. Her sandal straps clung to the box’s handles, and it flopped out of her bag when she tried to separate them.

“Brother!” she called out to the shouting man. “Here! There’s water here. Let him have it.”

He accepted it graciously, even as others were asking if they could help. A new sort of crowd began to congest the area as they gathered around the fallen man. To her dismay, just a few meters away, ‘Afraa’ could see her stepmother and stepsisters looking curiously towards her.

She panicked. Would they recognize her eyes? She ran like the men at Sa’i did, not stopping until she could sit down in another taxi. The sun was much lower in the sky now. How long had her tawaf taken? It only felt like a few minutes…

When she reached to grab her phone from her bag, the clock stared back at her. An hour, gone. Worse, one of her sandals had disappeared. Her cheeks flushed with more heat. In the rush to leave, she had forgotten to collect it!

“The shops,” ‘Afraa’ told the driver.

“Which ones?” he asked.

She sighed in frustration. “Any of them!”

Miracle after miracle happened on the way. ‘Afraa’ somehow had enough riyals for all the rides she needed. She found gifts for four adults—attar for her father, misk for her stepmother and stepsisters—all at reasonable prices. 

It was a blessing that she’d lost her sandal. Otherwise, she would have just gone to the Clock Tower and gotten gifts there… and she might not have been able to barter with the crowd there!

‘Afraa’ made it home before the rest of her family returned, trickling in just before Maghrib. This suited ‘Afraa’ just fine –  she appreciated the solitude for her to set the table, reciting the du’as that were playing on the television. 

Besides wishing her a happy Eid, her family said nothing to her. Her father, as usual, was absent even when he was present. Meanwhile, her stepmother and stepsisters chose not to be involved with her. Everyone was exhausted from such a busy day. ‘Afraa’ went to sleep, saying alhamdulillah for what she hoped would be a day off.

–

“’Afraa’. Get dressed.”

It was only a few hours past sunrise. Did they all want lunch that early? She rubbed her eyes and drew herself out of bed sluggishly. Only her father had gone to Eid prayer, as they all stayed at home to prepare for guests later.

“Now.”

The glare in her stepmother’s eyes was ominous. ‘Afraa’ swallowed and obeyed. Her mind began racing with explanations as to why she might be in trouble. Was she to be arrested for leaving her sandal in the Mataf? Had the perfume caused some sort of allergic reaction for her stepsisters?

There was simply no way to know, as living with her stepmother often meant living with a spin board of moods—a random roulette of what ‘Afraa’ might receive for the day.

The niqab laid on her nightstand as she prepared herself. It seemed expectant, waiting for her to wear it again before she left. ‘Afraa’ hesitated, holding it as gently in her fingers as she would a baby bird. Memories of her adventure flooded her once more, and a smile flitted across her face. She had felt protected. Devoted. A step above hijab, where she felt more like the Mothers of the Believers that she had grown up around in Madinah.

Her fingers, so careful to pick up the niqab again, tied it once more around her face. It felt familiar and welcome all at once.

She tiptoed quietly into the living room, where her stepfamily had set out a lavish board for their guest.

The man who had collapsed!

‘Afraa’ gulped. The man rose and smiled warmly at her. He had brought his own set of servants with him, and they nodded respectfully in her direction.

“This brother tells us,” her stepmother began tersely, “that he is the son of the dean of the Islamic University of Madinah. And that you left your sandal in the Mataf yesterday. For which, you should apologize profusely—”

The man cleared his throat. “While I realize it is Eid, sister, there is no need to put words in my mouth.”

‘Afraa’s own mouth had dropped. She wasn’t sure who to apologize for—herself for her actions, or her stepmother for her words.

Her stepmother clenched her teeth shut and feigned a smile. The man continued.

“I wanted to thank you personally for such kindness. Everyone around me seemed to freeze, and the lines were backed up for Zamzam. I could not have appreciated your gift more—”

“Oh!” one of the stepsisters interrupted. “They’re from our business—”

The man’s servant was less polite than his master, shushing the stepsister before she could continue.

“Yes, I am well aware. I saw your name—‘Afraa al-Nawari—on the sandal, and the business name on the gift box after I had come to consciousness. You see, I was here as a traveler visiting family in Makkah. I went to make tawaf after having just arrived that morning, and my exhaustion caught up to me.”

“I’m… glad to see you well, brother,” ‘Afraa’ responded. “Please, don’t thank me. In fact, I’m sorry for causing you to go through all this trouble.”

“No trouble at all!” he insisted. “It would be rude of me to only offer you your sandal in return. You have displayed a mark of the hadith—do you know it?—sayyidul qawm…”

“Khadimuhum,” she answered quietly. The leader of a people serves them.

“Well done. The mark of ‘ilm is ‘amal. Surely, you must have studied sacred knowledge. I see it reflected in you.”

“No,” she said sadly. “I’ve never studied ‘ilm formally.”

His eyebrows raised. “SubhanAllah.” Then a pause. “… Would you like to?”

Related:

The Six Fasts – A Short Story

The Things He Would Say – [Part 1]

The post ‘Afraa’ and Yawm al-Khulayf: A Cinderella Story appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.



Why aren’t there many Muslim books for boys? And why do stories matter for Muslim kids, anyway? Shifa Saltagi Safadi, author of multiple Muslim childrens’ books, shares her journey in writing “Kareem Between,” a middle-grade novel about a Muslim Syrian American struggling with faith, fitting in, and the fear of failure.

Zainab bint Younus and Shifa speak in more detail about the necessity of developing quality Muslim fiction, the dearth of books written for boys, and the featuring Islam as a core component of such books. And most importantly: how Muslim writers to spend time developing their craft before seeking publication.

Don’t forget to support Muslim authors by pre-ordering Shifa’s latest book, Kareem Between, immediately!

Synopsis for Kareem Between:

Seventh grade begins, and Kareem’s already fumbled it.

His best friend moved away, he messed up his tryout for the football team, and because of his heritage, he was voluntold to show the new kid—a Syrian refugee with a thick and embarrassing accent—around school. Just when Kareem thinks his middle school life has imploded, the hotshot QB promises to get Kareem another tryout for the squad. There’s a catch: to secure that chance, Kareem must do something he knows is wrong.

Then, like a surprise blitz, Kareem’s mom returns to Syria to help her family but can’t make it back home. If Kareem could throw a penalty flag on the fouls of his school and home life, it would be for unnecessary roughness. Kareem is stuck between. Between countries. Between friends, between football, between parents—and between right and wrong. It’s up to him to step up, find his confidence, and navigate the beauty and hope found somewhere in the middle.

Related:

Podcast: Refugee Representation In Muslim Literature

Podcast: A Glimpse Into Muslim Bookstagram

The post [Podcast] Books, Boys, & Kareem Between | Shifa Saltagi Safadi appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Sunday, July 7th  is our Islamic New Year. It will be the year 1446, which indicates the number of years that have passed since the arrival of Our Beloved Messenger ﷺ to al-Madīnah al-Munawwarah, The Illuminated City. The first month in the calendar is Muḥarram, which translates to The Sacred and Sanctified Month.  It is a great time to fast, specifically on the 10th day (ʿĀshūrāʾ).

We should all try to fast on ʿĀshūrāʾ, the 10th of Muḥarram, which is Tuesday, July 16th. If possible, fast the day before or after as well.

Muḥarram

This is the 1st month of the Islamic Lunar Calendar. The Messenger of God ﷺ referred to it as “شَهْرُ اللَّهِ الْمُحَرَّمُ – The Month of God (Shahr Allāh),” and it has certain virtues. It is also possibly a month of increased forgiveness. 1

The Messenger of God ﷺ said: “Aside from Ramaḍān, the best fasts are the fasts of The Month of God, Al-Muḥarram – أَفْضَلُ الصِّيَامِ بَعْدَ صِيَامِ شَهْرِ رَمَضَانَ شَهْرُ اللَّهِ الْمُحَرَّمُ.” 2

ʿĀshūrāʾ

This is the 10th day of Muḥarram. It falls on Tuesday, July 16th. Those who are able to fast should try to fast on this day.

Reward: The Messenger of God ﷺ said: “Fast on ʿĀshūrāʾ. Doing so will cause your sins of the previous year to be forgiven.”3

Encouragement: Ibn Abbās (raḍiya Allāh ʿanhumā 4) said: “I never saw The Prophet ﷺ wanting to fast a day more than ʿĀshūrāʾ – مَا رَأَيْتُ النَّبِيَّ ﷺ يَتَحَرَّى صِيَامَ يَوْمٍ فَضَّلَهُ عَلَى غَيْرِهِ إِلاَّ هَذَا الْيَوْمَ يَوْمَ عَاشُورَاءَ…”  5

In regards to ʿĀshūrāʾ, The Messenger of God ﷺ said: “Fast! – فَصُومُوهُ أَنْتُمْ”  6

Reasoning: Ibn ʿAbbās (raḍiya Allāh ʿanhumā) mentioned that the Jews of Al-Madīnah used to fast on ʿĀshūrāʾ because The Exodus — the day Moses (Mūsā alayhi al-salām 7) escaped with the Israelites from the reign of the Pharaoh — occurred on that day. The Messenger of God ﷺ responded saying: “You (the companions) have more right to Moses (alayhi al-salām) than them (the Jews), so fast (on this day) – أَنْتُمْ أَحَقُّ بِمُوسَى مِنْهُمْ فَصُومُوا.” 8

Fasting The 9th As Well:  The Messenger of God ﷺ said: “If I am still alive next year, I will definitely fast the 9th as well. (Meaning, in addition to the 10th.)” The Messenger of God ﷺ also said: “Differ from the Jews, fast the day before or after as well – صُومُوا يَوْمَ عَاشُورَاءَ وَخَالِفُوا فِيهِ الْيَهُودَ صُومُوا قَبْلَهُ يَوْمًا أَوْ بَعْدَهُ يَوْمًا.” 9

Based on that, it would be okay to fast on the 11th instead of on the 9th. There are different opinions as to which set of days to fast. To list them in brief:

• The 10th (Tuesday, July 16th only). Everyone is in agreement that this day should be fasted 10, even if one cannot fast an extra day before or after.
• The 9th and 10th (Monday and Tuesday)
• The 10th and 11th (Tuesday and Wednesday)11
• The 9th, 10th, and 11th (Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday) 12

The Exodus – Allāh ﷻ Commands Moses (Mūsā alayhi al-salām 13) to Leave Egypt

The story of Mūsā (alayhi al-salām) is the most frequently mentioned story in the Qurʾān. Each time Mūsā (alayhi al-salām) is mentioned, Allāh ﷻ gives us different scenes from his life, and a different angle of that scene. The passage in the Qurʾān that highlights The Exodus in the most detail is Sūrah Al-Shuʿārāʾ (#26) Āyāt 10 – 68. 14

It is a story of perseverance (ṣabr and ḥilm), relying solely on Allāh (tawakkul), guidance (hudā), deliverance (najāh), and victory (ẓafar). There are so many avenues for us to benefit from when it comes to the story of Mūsā (alayhi al-salām), as well as the parallels we draw between the story of Mūsā (alayhi al-salām) and the life and story (sīrah) of our own Messenger Muḥammad ﷺ. Take a deep dive into this section of the Qurʾān here.

Should One Spend Extra on One’s Family on The Day of ʿĀshūrāʾ?

There are a few narrations attributed to the Prophet ﷺ stating, “If someone is extra generous with their family 15 on the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ, Allāh ﷻ will be extra generous with him or her throughout the following year.” 16
 It should be mentioned that the vast majority of scholars have considered the attribution of that statement to the Prophet ﷺ, albeit through many companions and chains, to be weak (ḍaʿīf).

As for the reasoning behind avoiding acting upon these narrations, it is because there have been great scholars who have considered the ḥadīth at hand to be extremely weak, if not baseless and fabricated. Among them are Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, Al-ʿUqaylī, Al-Faḍl Ibn Ṭāhir, Ibn Al-Jawzī, Ibn Taymiyah, Ibn Al-Qayyim, Al-Dhahabī, Ibn Al-ʿIzz, and Al-Majd Al-Fayrūz Ābādī (raḥimahum Allāh 17).

They say that the chain to Ibn Masʿud (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), the chain to Abū Hurayrah (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), the two chains to Abū Saʿīd Al-Khudrī (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), the two chains to Jābir (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhumā),  including his personal statement, and the two chains to Ibn ʿUmar are all extremely weak and filled with narrators who are unknown, very weak, unreliable, and/or known to contradict their much more accurate peers. 18

As for the reasoning behind acting upon these narrations, it is because there have been great scholars who have acted upon this statement by spending extra on their family, and found extra blessings in the following year. Among them are Al-Bayhaqī, Al-Mundhirī, Al-ʿIrāqī, and Al-Suyūṭī (raḥimahum Allāh 19). They rely on the eight chains of narrators to the five companions (ṣaḥābah) mentioned above, including the narration to Jābir ibn ʿAbd Allāh (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhumā), wherein he has been quoted saying, “We have experienced that, and have found it to be true.” 20

Abū Al-Zubayr and Shuʿbah (raḥimahumā Allāh) have also been quoted with similar statements. 21 Sufyān ibn ʿUyaynah (raḥimahu Allāh) is famous 22 for this statement, saying that he found this extra generosity for “50 or 60 years.” Ibn Ḥabīb Al-Mālikī (raḥimahu Allāh) composed a few lines of poetry highlighting this. 23

In summary, there are two opinions. Opinion A is: despite a weak attribution to the Prophet ﷺ, there are numerous quotes, statements, and testimonies about receiving extra generosity from Allāh the year following having spent on one’s family on ʿĀshūrāʾ 24.

Anyone who finds this convincing should go ahead and be extra generous with his or her family on ʿĀshūrāʾ, and hope and pray for extra generosity and blessings from Allāh.

Opinion B is: all the narrations are extremely weak and problematic, and thus one should not spend extra on their family on ʿĀshūrāʾ. The author of this article, may Allāh make him worthy of His Love, used to hold the opinion that, despite the weakness of the narrations, there was some basis to this act, and thus it would be permissible and rewarding to act upon the said narration. However, after further research, the author, may Allāh make him worthy of His Love, finds it better to avoid this action due to the immense weakness of the narrations. With that being said, if someone were to act on it in hopes of reward because they prefer the view of the scholars that did consider it virtuous, it is hoped that Allāh will reward them. And if someone were to avoid this action so as to not engage in a religious innovation (bidʿah), they will also be rewarded by Allāh. — Allāh knows the correct answer.

May Allāh — Al-Razzāq, The Sustainer — provide for us all, bless us in what He Alone has provided us with, make us grateful and content, and free us from any and all forms of debt. May Allāh accept our fasting on ʿĀshūrāʾ, and forgive us for our previous years’ sins. Āmīn.

The Martyrdom of Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhumā) 25

As was described above, the Prophet ﷺ himself taught us the importance of the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ, as well as the rewards associated with fasting that day. However, after the Prophet ﷺ left this world, his grandson, Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), as well as many of his extended family members were martyred on the plains of Karbalāʾ by a platoon from the Umayyad Army, as a result of political issues in the year 56 AH. A detailed overview of the incidents leading up to this event can be found here and here.

Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh) is the son of Fāṭimah bint Muḥammad (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhā) and ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), two of the greatest companions of the Prophet ﷺ. Fāṭimah bint Muḥammad (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhā) is the beloved daughter of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ. ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh) is the 1st cousin of the Prophet ﷺ, his son-in-law, and the 4rth Caliph. They also had an older son, Ḥasan (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh).

Regarding Ḥasan and Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhumā), the Prophet ﷺ said “Ḥasan and Ḥusayn are the two leaders of the young men of Jannah.” 26 He ﷺ also said about them while they were holding onto his knees “These two are my sons. The sons of my daughter (Fāṭimah). O Allāh! I love both of them! So You love both of them! And love whoever loves both of them!” 27

He ﷺ also said regarding them: “Ḥasan and Ḥusayn are my two fragrant smelling plants 28 of this world.” 29 Regarding Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh) in particular, Anas ibn Mālik (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh) – the servant of the Prophet ﷺ for 10 years – remarked, “He most closely resembles the physical features of the Prophet ﷺ.” 30

There can be no doubt about the love we must have for the Prophet ﷺ, his family, his daughters, his grandchildren, and our respect towards them. And because of our immense love of the Prophet ﷺ, we follow his teachings, his guidelines, and the way of life he modeled for us. He ﷺ taught us that the 10th of Muḥarram is a day of victory, and a day of fasting.

He also taught us that we focus on our worship, commemorate successes, and take lessons from – not mourn – times of difficulty. Our hearts should feel sad for the martyrdom of Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), in a similar way that it feels sad over the martyrdom of all of the great Ṣaḥābah, those who were role models even to Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), likeʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), ʿUthmān ibn ʿAffān (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh), and Ḥusayn’s own father, ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh). But our hearts should feel the greatest sadness at the loss of our Prophet ,ﷺ who said “No one from my Ummah has faced a more difficult calamity than my death.” 31

Despite that, we still do not take the passing of the Prophet ﷺ on the 12th of Rabīʿ al-Awwal to be a day of mourning or lamenting. The Prophet ﷺ taught us how to grieve when his own son Ibrāhīm (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanh) passed away when he ﷺ said, “The eyes shed tears. The hearts feel sad. But we only say that which pleases Allāh.” 32 We do not say anything or do anything in our sadness that will make Allāh displeased.

As a final point, some people use instances like these to criticize the Ṣaḥābah (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhum), the companions of the Prophet ﷺ, even though Allāh ﷻ is already pleased and happy with all of them. Allāh ﷻ says in The Qurʾān regarding the companions (ṣaḥābah raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhum) “ِAllāh is pleased with them, and they are pleased with Allāh” 33 and “Those who spent their money and put their lives on the line before the conquest of Makkah are not equal to those who did so after. The first category has a superior rank compared to those who spent money and fought after the conquest of Makkah. BUT STILL, Allāh has promised and prepared Al-Ḥusnā, Jannah, and Paradise for BOTH groups.” 34

May Allāh ﷻ allow us to love those whom He loves, and to act in a manner that is pleasing to Him in all times and places. Āmīn.

FAQs:

1. Should one still fast if the recommended day(s) happens to be on a Friday or a Saturday?
   1. Yes, one should still fast, even if that means fasting only on a Friday or a Saturday. 35

Related:

From The Chaplain’s Desk: The Sanctity of Muharram And Ashura

Ashura: The Victory of Musa And Victory of Husain

1     Al-Tirmidhī, Jāmiʿ: Kitāb al-Ṣawm ʿan Rasūl Allāh ﷺ Bāb mā jāʾa fī ṣawm al-Muḥarram. The other narrations mentioned here should be given preference in terms of reliability for proving the month’s virtues.2    Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ #1163 a,b,c. Al-Tirmidhī, Jāmiʿ: Kitāb al-Ṣawm ʿan Rasūl Allāh ﷺ Bāb mā jāʾa fī ṣawm al-Muḥarram. Abū Dāwūd, Sunan: Kitāb al-Ṣawm Bāb fī Ṣawm al-Muḥarram.3     Al-Tirmidhī, Jāmiʿ: Kitāb al-Ṣawm ʿan Rasūl Allāh ﷺ Bāb mā jāʾa fī al-ḥathth ʿalā ṣawm yawm ʿĀshūrāʾ. Ibn Mājah, Sunan: Kitāb al-Ṣawm #1810.4    May Allāh be pleased with him.5    Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ: Kitāb al-Ṣawm Bāb ṣiyām yawm ʿĀshūrāʾ. Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ #1132a (similar wording: مَا عَلِمْتُ أَنَّ رَسُولَ اللَّهِ ﷺ صَامَ يَوْمًا يَطْلُبُ فَضْلَهُ عَلَى الأَيَّامِ إِلاَّ هَذَا الْيَوْمَ وَلاَ شَهْرًا إِلاَّ هَذَا الشَّهْرَ يَعْنِي رَمَضَانَ).6    Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ #1131 a.7    May Allāh protect him and preserve his legacy.8    Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ: Kitāb al-Tafsīr Sūrah Yūnus Bāb Wa Jāwaznā bi Banī Isrāʾīl … Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ #1130c (similar wording: فَنَحْنُ أَحَقُّ وَأَوْلَى بِمُوسَى مِنْكُمْ).9    Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ #1134b. Ibn Mājah, Sunan: Kitāb al-Ṣawm #1808.10    However, it has been narrated that after the mandate to fast Ramaḍān, Ibn ʿUmar (raḍiya Allāhu ʿanhumā) would not fast on ʿĀshūrāʾ unless it coincided with his normal fasting routine. Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ: Kitāb al-Ṣawn Bāb Wujūb Ṣawm Ramaḍān.11     Some scholars opined that there is no virtue in adding the 11th.12    Some scholars opined that no one should fast all three: 9th, 10th, and 11th, referring to it as an innovation (bidʿah).13    May Allāh protect him and preserve his legacy.14    Al-Qurʾān: Sūrah Al-Shuʿārāʾ (26:10-68) | https://quran.com/26/10-6815    Some reports add “and on themselves.”16    This has been narrated by Abū Saʿīd Al-Khudrī, Ibn Masʿūd, Ibn ʿUmar, Abū Hurayrah, and Jābir (raḍiya Allāh ʿanhum). Al-Ṭabarānī, Al-Awsaṭ, v. 9 p. 121 #9302; Al-Ṭabarānī, Al-Kabīr, v. 10 p. 77 #10007; Al-Bayhaqī, Shuʿab Al-Īmān, v. 7 p. 375-9 and v. 8 p. 377; Ibn Ḥibbān, Kitāb Al-Majrūḥīn, v. 3 p. 97; Abū Nuʿaym, Akbār Aṣbahān, v. 1 p. 163 and p. 198; Ibn Maʿīn, Tārīkh, #2223; Al-Khaṭīb, Muwaḍḍiḥ al-Jamʿ wa al-Tafrīq, v. 2 p. 307; Al-Ḥakīm Al-Tirmidhī, Nawādir Al-Uṣūl v. 3 p.1417    May Allāh bless them with His Kindness18    Yūnus Jonpūrī, Al-Yawāqīt Al-Khāliyah, v. 1 p. 326 (link)19    May Allāh bless them with His Kindness20    Ibn ʿAbd Al-Barr, Al-Istidhkār, v. 10 p. 140.21    Ibn ʿAbd Al-Barr, Al-Istidhkār, v. 10 p. 140.22    However, Al-Imām Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (raḥimahu Allāh) said in response to this, “(Well, obviously…) He (Ibn Uyaynah) would be obsequious and groveling to Ibn Al-Muntashir. May Allāh have mercy on Ibn Uyaynah. He lived with the kings.” Masāʾil Ibn Hāniʾ li Al-Imām Aḥmad, v. 1 p. 136-7.23    Al-Qāḍī ʿIyāḍ, Tartīb al-Madārik wa Taqrīb al-Masālik, v. 4 p. 140.24    Al-Bayhaqī, Shuʿab Al-Īmān, v. 7 p. 379; Al-Ḥāfiẓ Ibn Ḥajar Al-ʿAsqalānī, Al-Amālī Al-Muṭlaqah p. 27-30; Ibn Ḥajar, Mukhtaṣar Al-Targhīb, p. 82; Ibn ʿĀbidīn, Ḥāshiyah, v. 2 p. 419; Al-Ṣāwī Al-Mālikī, Ḥāshiyah Al-Ṣāwī ʿalā Al-Sharḥ Al-Ṣaghīr, v. 1 p. 691; The recommendation has also been mentioned by Sulaymān Al-Jamal in his Ḥāshiyah, and by Al-Bahūtī Al-Ḥanbalī in his Sharḥ Muntahā Al-Irādāt.25    This section has been added to to correct some misconceptions that have crept into the Muslim community. Some Muslims simply do not know how they are supposed to feel and/or speak about Ḥusayn (raḍiya Allāh ʿanh), the beloved grandson of the Prophet ﷺ. Some people say bad things about the companions (ṣaḥabah) in general, and some specifically say vile things about the companion and a scribe of revelation, Muʿāwiyah (raḍiya Allāh ʿanh). This section serves to clearly demonstrate Allāh’s happiness with the companions as a whole, to show us and teach us the love the Prophet ﷺ had for his family, grandchildren, and his companions, and to highlight the love, respect, and admiration towards the companions that we should have, as we strive to emulate the Prophet ﷺ.26    Al-Tirmidhī, Jāmiʿ: Kitāb al-Manāqib ʿan Rasūl Allāh #376827    Ibid #376928    The word rayḥān can also literally mean basil. This is the Arabic idiom comparable to the American English idiom, “my rose” or “my flower”.29    Al-Tirmidhī, Jāmiʿ: Kitāb al-Manāqib ʿan Rasūl Allāh #377030    Ibid #377831    Ibn Mājah, Sunan: K. al-Janāʾiz B. mā jāʾ fī al-ṣabr ʿalā al-Muṣībah #159932    Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ: K. al-Janāʾiz B. Qawl al-Nabī ﷺ Innā bika la Maḥzūnūn #1303. Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ: #231533    Al-Qurʾān, Sūrah al-Tawbah 9:100 وَٱلسَّـٰبِقُونَ ٱلۡأَوَّلُونَ مِنَ ٱلۡمُهَـٰجِرِینَ وَٱلۡأَنصَارِ وَٱلَّذِینَ ٱتَّبَعُوهُم بِإِحۡسَـٰنࣲ رَّضِیَ ٱللَّهُ عَنۡهُمۡ وَرَضُوا۟ عَنۡهُ وَأَعَدَّ لَهُمۡ جَنَّـٰتࣲ تَجۡرِی تَحۡتَهَا ٱلۡأَنۡهَـٰرُ خَـٰلِدِینَ فِیهَاۤ أَبَدࣰاۚ ذَ ٰ⁠لِكَ ٱلۡفَوۡزُ ٱلۡعَظِیمُ34    Al-Qurʾān, Sūrah al-Ḥadīd 57:10 لَا یَسۡتَوِی مِنكُم مَّنۡ أَنفَقَ مِن قَبۡلِ ٱلۡفَتۡحِ وَقَـٰتَلَۚ أُو۟لَـٰۤىِٕكَ أَعۡظَمُ دَرَجَةࣰ مِّنَ ٱلَّذِینَ أَنفَقُوا۟ مِنۢ بَعۡدُ وَقَـٰتَلُوا۟ۚ وَكُلࣰّا وَعَدَ ٱللَّهُ 35    There are narrations wherein the Prophet ﷺ said, “None of you should fast on Friday, unless you also fast the day before or after.” (Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ K. al-Ṣawm B. Ṣawm Yawm al-Jumuʿah, fa idhā Aṣbaḥ Ṣāʾimā Yawm al-Jumuʿah fa ʿalayhi an Yufṭir. Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ #1143a-1144b) However, most scholars have understood this to mean singling out any random Friday (or every Friday) for fasting, because it is the day of Friday, or to ensure that people do not think it is necessary (wājib) to fast on Friday. Since people are fasting because it is ʿĀshūrāʾ (or any other recommended day), that dislike or prohibition would not apply in the first place. For more information, see Al-Mawsūʿah Al-Fiqhiyyah Al-Kuwaytiyyah v. 28 p. 96.

The post From the Chaplain’s Desk: Fasting Ashura appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

A father with a severely autistic son dreams of going to Hajj, but will it ever happen?

Previous Chapters: Part 1

Shooting Star

Junaid keened in the backseat, hands over his ears and tears streaming down his cheeks. Murid wanted to drive like he was racing the last lap at the Indy 500, in order to get Junaid home and soothe him, but they were on Mission Gorge Road where it topped the hills on the way south to San Carlos. It was windy, and Junaid gripped the steering wheel as the gusts shoved the car back and forth on the road. As they crested a low mountain pass, Junaid fell silent.

“Baba, look!” Mina was pointing out of the rear window. Murid glanced at his side mirror and saw something orange streak across the night sky, then another. He pulled off the road into a truck weighing stop, shut off the engine, and all three exited the car.

Murid stood on the cold asphalt, holding his children’s hands. The cold wind snatched at Murid’s clothing. A white streak flashed across the sky, turning orange as it passed by, startlingly low and close. Then another came and another.

“It’s a meteor shower,” Mina said. “I’ve never seen one before.”

Murid looked at Junaid. He was entranced, his liquid eyes wide. Tears stood on his cheeks, and as a meteor shot by, the fire of its passage was reflected in Junaid’s eyes and in the tears themselves, as if his face were a mirror to the glory of the heavens. His hair whipped in the wind, but he paid it no mind. What was the boy thinking, Murid wondered? Did he know what he was seeing? Or did he think it was some kind of show put on just for him? Perhaps a group of teenage angels were messing about in the sky, shooting off Chinese fireworks for fun?

The meteor shower lasted a full five minutes and was the most incredible thing Murid had ever seen. The last one was the brightest, so low in the sky that Murid imagined he could feel its heat, the way one could close his eyes and feel the heat of a hand passing in front of his face.

Mina squeezed his hand. “I’m cold. And we’re standing on the side of the highway in the dark. This is spectacularly bad parenting.”

This made Murid laugh for some reason. They returned to the car and drove off, Murid still chuckling.

“Allah sent that for Junaid,” Mina said. “To calm him down.”

“And for you too.”

“No, Junaid is the star. We’re the understudies.”

“Why do you say that?” But no answer came, and when Murid looked in the rear view mirror, both children were asleep.

Did she mean that Junaid was the star of their family because their activities revolved around his needs? Or did she mean that he was in his nature a shooting star, and that the ones they’d seen were his cosmic cousins? Junaid never got an answer to that question.

Attar Maulana

At Jum’ah that week the imam said an interesting thing: a beggar begs with one hand, but we beg with two.

As Murid was filing out with the crowd, weaving his way through the crowded outdoor courtyard in front of the masjid door, Abu Ali Al-Rashidi approached and slapped him playfully on the back. Murid stumbled and nearly fell. Abu Ali was a giant of a brother, not tremendously tall at about 5 ’11”, but as thick as a chimney stack. Though he was middle aged, with a thick black beard going to gray, his shoulders were nearly as wide as a door frame. Today he wore a beautiful suit with an actual pocket watch tucked into the breast pocket, and he smelled of some exotic perfume oil.

“That’s a great scent, mashaAllah.”

Abu Ali reached into his suit pocket and drew out a tiny bottle with a gold exterior embedded with rubies, and a stopper in the shape of a key that he turned to open the bottle.

“Hold out your wrists. We put it on the pulse points, as the warmth activates the scent.”

Murid did so, and Abu Ali dabbed some on. “This is attar maulana. Ancient scent, very rare. It is a blend of jasmine and rose, with the pheromone extract of a beaver.”

“A beaver?” Murid rubbed his wrists together and smelled. It was sweet and rich, with musky undertones. The powerful aroma made him dizzy, and Abu Ali reached out with a strong hand to steady him.

Mysterious Dinner Invitation

Arabia in 1918, with the Rashidi Emirate in the center.

“I want to talk to you about something private,” Abu Ali said in a faux whisper that could probably be heard by anyone in the courtyard.

Murid was surprised. He knew Abu Ali on a casual level, but they were not what one would call friends. The big man belonged to the royal family of the former Rashidi Emirate, a once-independent state in the north of the Arabian peninsula. The Emirate had been conquered by the Saudi alliance in the early days of the kingdom. Abu Ali’s line of the family lived in exile in Portugal, or so Murid had heard.

Apparently Abu Ali had come to San Diego thirty years ago to study business, had fallen in love with a Mexican convert, and remained. He was said to be quite wealthy. Nevertheless, Murid had always found him to be a humble and gentle person.

“I need your help,” Abu Ali said. “My daughter Hiba started a job as a teacher for special needs children. She needs pointers. Could you visit us tonight and talk to her?”

“I’m not a teacher.”

“Yes, but you’re a parent and you have valuable experience.”

Murid called Juliana to watch the kids for a few hours, and after Maghreb he rang the bell of Abu Ali’s sprawling home. The inside was amazing, decorated with traditional Moroccan tilework, with ancient Arabian swords hanging on the walls.

Murid sat at the dinner table with Abu Ali, his wife and their four adult daughters. He was surprised that a traditional Arab family would let a strange man mix with the women. As the meal went on, however, he began to get the feeling that Abu Ali had an ulterior motive. Yes, the eldest sister, Hiba, did ask some questions about caring for autistic children. She was a tall girl in her mid twenties, about Murid’s height, with lovely features marred by heavy acne.

Not that Murid cared about the acne. When it came to marriage, all he wanted was a loyal Muslim woman with a kind heart. And Hiba, from what he could tell, was a lovely young woman. She had a master’s degree in education, and was soft-spoken yet witty. The combination was disarming.

Last of the Mughals

Ruins of the summer palace of Bahadur Shah Zafar

“Murid,” Abu Ali said, interrupting this line of thought. “Where are you from originally?”

“My mother is Pakistani. My father is from India. Actually, on my father’s side we descend in a direct line from Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal emperor, who died in 1862.” As soon as the words left Murid’s mouth he realized that Abu Ali might think that he was inventing this story to say, Look, I’m royalty too.

But it was true. Twenty two generations had passed since the fall of Muslim rule in India, but the family had kept careful records. Murid was indeed the descendant of an emperor.

Abu Ali grinned. “That’s amazing. Do you have a royal treasure stored somewhere?”

Was the man making fun of him? Murid smiled politely. “Hardly. For one thing, by Bahadur Shah Zafar’s time the empire was reduced to Old Delhi and nothing more. Then Zafar was exiled to Burma by the British after he opposed the East India trading company. He was forced to leave behind most of his wealth. Two generations later the family returned to India, though to Hyderabad, not Delhi. Since then we have been either merchants or warriors.”

Other questions followed. Abu Ali and his wife asked about the disposition of Murid’s marriage to the vanished ex-wife, and his work as a surveyor. As he spoke he felt the pressure of Hiba’s eyes upon him, and found himself beginning to sweat.

Sizing Him Up

They’re sizing me up for marriage, he thought. The man has four unmarried daughters, he must be desperate. But why me?

Not that it mattered. After his marriage to Dana had been legally dissolved he’d tried for a few years to meet a good woman. He’d used friend connections, Muslim matchmaking websites and Imams. He’d talked to many sisters, and with two of them had progressed almost to the point of engagement. But in the end they all backed out, spooked by the notion of marrying a man with a severely autistic son and a daughter with a barbed wire tongue. In the end Murid gave up and accepted his fate, which was to remain single and devote himself to raising his children.

It would be no different with these Arab-Portuguese princesses. Nothing would come of it. Still… It would be cool to marry into a royal family. The joining of the Mughal Empire and the Rashidi Emirate. Murid was inwardly amused at the thought. How the mighty had fallen.

Oh, stop it, he told himself. They’d marry a former boy-band star with a cocaine problem before they’d marry you.

When dinner and dessert were finished Abu Ali walked him out. The last thing Hiba said to him was, “Brother Murid, you should be very proud. A lot of men would have buckled under the weight you carry. But you stand tall like the Mughal warriors you descend from.”

Murid wanted to reply, but his throat constricted and he could not speak. So he smiled and nodded his head like an idiot.

Greatest Dream

Outside, the Southern California heat had dissipated, replaced by a starry sky and a cool, salty breeze off the Pacific. He and Abu Ali stood in the driveway. Abu Ali held a leather file case in his hand, the old-fashioned kind that might hold a notebook and a few pens.

“Last week at family night,” Abu Ali said, “the shaykh talked about Jannah, and asked each person what they dreamed of seeing or doing in Jannah. Do you remember?”

“Sure.”

“Most people said they would like to see their family members who passed away, or meet the Prophet Muhammad (s). Some said they dreamed of experiencing life without anxiety. Do you remember what you said?”

“That I want to go to Hajj.”

“You said that before you could imagine entering Jannah, you must be a better mu’min in the dunya, and that your greatest dream is to complete the Hajj.”

“That’s true.”

“Why?”

Murid frowned. “What do you mean? It’s an obligatory part of our deen. It’s one of the five pillars of Islam.”

“I mean, why do you care so much? Islam gives you an excuse. Man istata’a ilayhi sabeelaa. ‘Pilgrimage to this House is an obligation by Allah upon whoever is able among the people.’ Surat Aal-Imran. Whoever is able, that is the key phrase. You work for the state, I know you are not rich. Do you have any savings?”

“That’s a bit personal.”

A Cop-Out

Abu Ali smiled and punched Murid in the chest. The grapefruit-sized fist drove the breath out of Murid’s lungs, and he coughed. Murid thought for a second the man was attacking him, then realized this was another gesture of physical affection. The guy was like some Arab Paul Bunyan who didn’t know his own strength.

“Yes, of course,” Abu Ali said. “I apologize for prying. I’m showing care for my younger brother.”

“I hate to think what it would be like if you didn’t care for me.”

Abu Ali laughed. “Like you, I am descended from warriors.”

Murid studied the big man. What an odd character he was. Welcoming and intimate, yet overbearing. He treated Murid almost like a family member.

“I have no savings,” Murid confessed. “I live month to month. My son’s special needs are costly.”

“So forget about Hajj. Use your salary for your family. Save your money to buy a house, and for your retirement. You have the excuse.”

“That’s a cop-out. Most of the people in the world are struggling financially, and that’s not new. It’s always been like that. Yet Muslims throughout history have gone to Hajj, even on foot across great distances, to answer Allah’s call. There will always be expenses and difficulties.”

“It’s not a cop-out. It is a legitimate escape clause granted by Allah to those who need it.”

Murid was getting annoyed. “Look, brother. I know you mean well. But I don’t want an escape clause. I’m not looking to simply check an obligation off my list. I have a yearning, and this yearning gets me up in the morning, it animates me. Allah has called me to His home. It’s as if Allah has cast me a rope, and I cling to it like a drowning sailor. I want to stand on Arafah and plead my case to Allah. Sometimes I feel like…” Emotion rose in Murid’s chest like the Pacific tide. He had to stop speaking so he wouldn’t break into tears. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Sometimes life is hard. And I know there is no way forward except with Allah. And there is no better place to ask Allah than in the place where everyone who ever lived will be resurrected. You don’t have to understand this. Maybe you cannot.”

Abu Ali gazed at him seriously, his deep-set black eyes glittering with unknown pain. “I understand it very well, akhi. I am an exile from a home I can never return to.” The large Rashidi tribesman opened the leather file case, removed a fat envelope, and handed it to Murid.

“Take this,” Abu Ali said. “Go to Hajj.”

Murid opened the envelope. It was filled with $100 bills. Thousands of dollars worth. For an instant his heart soared – he could go to Hajj! – but the elation faded like the last warmth of summer when the frost of winter arrives. He remembered the shaykh’s words at Jumah: We beg with two hands, not one. I’m no street beggar, Murid though. I beg only from Allah.

He extended the envelope to Abu Ali. “I cannot take this. Thank you for the gesture, Allah give you life. But no.”

***

Part 3 will be published next week inshaAllah

 

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

 

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A Wish And A Cosmic Bird: A Play

The post The Things He Would Say – [Part 2] appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Alḥamdulillāh, through the grace and mercy of Allah ﷻ, four of our IOK (Institute of Knowledge) team members were blessed with the opportunity to serve the ḥujjāj this year: Shaykhs Nomaan Baig, Ahmed Billoo, Zaid Khan, and myself. May Allah ﷻ accept our Ḥajj and allow us to continue to serve the ḥujjāj for several years to come.

Ḥajj is amazing. It is one of the most powerful, profound, awe-inspiring, humbling, and beautiful acts of worship in Islam. Millions of Muslims from every single corner of the globe of different backgrounds, races, colors, and languages, old and young, rich and poor gather together in the same place for the same purpose. They all gather to express their love, devotion, obedience, and submission to Allah ﷻ. It is the most amazing display of worship and unity seen in the world. No other religion, no other way of life can claim to have something similar to Hajj.

Out of all of the different acts of worship in Islam, Hajj is perhaps the most unique as well as the most difficult. What makes the Hajj so unique is that it is the only act of worship Muslims are required to do once in their lifetime. All of the other acts of worship we perform have some level of frequency to them. We pray 5 times a day, we fast the month of Ramaḍān every year, and we pay zakāh once a year. We are required to perform Ḥajj just once. It is a once-in-a-lifetime obligation that is supposed to lead to a lifetime of change.

Ḥajj is an opportunity for us to reconnect with our Lord and Creator to change our lives; to start all over. A person who performs Hajj correctly has all of their previous sins forgiven. The Prophet ﷺ said, “Whoever performs Hajj for the sake of Allah and is not obscene and does not sin will return like the day his mother gave birth to him.” In addition to that the reward for an accepted Hajj is Paradise. As the Prophet ﷺ  said, “There is no reward for an accepted ḥajj except for Paradise.”

A Beautiful Beginning

Our Ḥajj journey this year started in the beautiful city of the Prophet ﷺ al-Madīnah al-Munawwarah. The Illuminated City, which is illuminated by the presence, teachings, advice, counsel, and guidance of the Prophet ﷺ. Words can’t capture or describe the beauty of Madinah. The city has a certain feeling – a certain aura – of peace, tranquility, and contentment. It is a feeling experienced by everyone who goes there.

Some scholars divide the Divine Names and Attributes of Allah ﷻ into two categories: those of Jamāl – beauty – and those of Jalāl – power and strength. You experience the Jamāl of Allah ﷻ in Madinah and His Jalāl in Makkah.

We got the chance to perform our prayers in al-Masjid al-Nabawiyy, pray in the Rawḍah, directly convey our greetings to the Prophet ﷺ and his two Companions, Abū Bakr and ʿUmar , and pay respect to the Shuhadā’ of Uḥud. We were there for three nights, the calm before the storm. 

We took the train on Thursday evening, the 7th of Dhūl Ḥijjah, to Makkah to perform ʿUmrah. By the time we arrived at our Hotel, it was well past 11 pm. We then had the task of checking in more than 200 people, which was not easy. We met in the lobby at 1:30 am as a group and made our way to the Sacred Mosque to perform ʿUmrah. The crowd was relatively light and just as we finished the last leg of Saʿy we heard the adhān of Fajr. 

We didn’t have much time between completing our ʿUmrah and starting the rites and rituals of Ḥajj. The rites and rituals of Ḥajj are performed on the 8th-13th of Dhūl Ḥijjah.

The Sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ is to go to Mina after Fajr on the morning of the 8th. Because of how our trip was scheduled and other circumstances, our plan was to leave for Mina at 4 pm. We ended up leaving after Maghrib because of natural traffic and delays due to Ḥajj. We settled into our Mina tent, prayed ʿIshā, had a short reminder about the significance of ʿArafah and duʿā, and then went to sleep. 

“Hajj is Arafah”

The Day of ʿArafah is the most blessed day of the entire year. This is the day Allah ﷻ frees the most people from the Fire, boasts about His servants to His Angels, and accepts people’s supplications. This is the day that Allah ﷻ completed the Dīn and showered His unique favors and blessings upon His Prophet and Messenger ﷺ. Fasting on this day serves as a means of expiating two years of sin. The Prophet ﷺ said, “Ḥajj is ʿArafah.” The most important right and ritual of Ḥajj is being present in the plain of ʿArafah and supplicating to Allah ﷻ. We woke up about an hour before Fajr to get ready for prayer. The most valuable real estate on Ḥajj is in Mina; space is limited, and access to restrooms is challenging. There are very long lines, and it can take up to an hour to get a turn. We prayed Fajr in congregation in our tent, I gave a short reminder about duʿā in general and dʿuā on this day.

We left Mina around 5:50 am in a fairly chaotic manner. I like to call it organized chaos because everything still works out. We arrived in ʿArafah fairly quickly and settled into our tent. It is a large tent with approximately 300-400 people in it. Everyone gets a small futon, so space is very limited. The tent has A/C but at 11:30 am it was already 108° outside. At some point, it becomes ineffective. All of this is part of the experience of Ḥajj. It breaks the ego.

The ʿArafah experience was beautiful, calming, and cleansing. We had three sermons in the tent: Arabic, English, and Bosnian. We then prayed Dhuhr and ʿAṣr shortening and combining according to the practice of the Prophet ﷺ. After completing the prayer, we spent our time engaged in duʿā, dhikr, reciting Quran, and worship. We had from approximately 1 pm-7 pm to do so. As the sun set there was a feeling of peace, tranquility, and mercy.

 Oppressive Heat: A Reality Check

Because of the bus schedule, we left ʿArafah for Muzdalifah around 9 pm. We arrived in Muzdalifah at a camp that was already full of people. We had to find an open space and claim it. Muzdalifah is an experience. There are very limited facilities; there’s a carpet on the hot earth beneath you, the sky above you, and you’re surrounded by countless people, buses, and noise. Despite all that, sleep at Muzdalifah is precious. We prayed Maghrib and Isha shortening and combining following in the footsteps of the Prophet ﷺ. 

For most people, Muzdalifah is the most difficult part of Ḥajj. It is hard to describe the experience in words. It’s very hot, the ground is emitting heat, you’re sweating and tired, and there’s only enough space for you to lie down on the ground. There are bodies everywhere; next to your head, next to your feet, on the right and left, and people are walking over you. It is a very powerful lesson in humility. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you are from, how wealthy or powerful you are, you are sleeping on the floor with the rest of the Ummah. Many members said it reminded them of the descriptions of the Day of Judgment. Despite all that, I was able to get some sleep. We woke up about an hour before Fajr, prayed as soon as the time came in, and then did the wuqūf in Muzdalifah, which is one of the wājibāt of Ḥajj. 

Departure from Muzdalifah was a challenge. There were thousands of people trying to get on a limited number of buses that would take them back to Mina. Our group split up; some were able to get on a bus and the rest of us decided to walk back to our camps. The walk back to Mina was about 40 minutes, which isn’t too bad.

Because of the extreme heat and fear of heat stroke and dehydration, I decided to take the group to stone Jamarah al-ʿAqabah at 11 pm. The time for stoning starts after Fajr, is best to do before zawāl, and according to the Aḥnāf, permissible until Fajr. Part of formulating fiqh decisions is giving consideration to one’s circumstances and potential harms. Alḥamdulillah, it turned out to be a great decision. The entire process of going to the Jamarāt, stoning, and returning to the camp in Mina was two hours and 15 minutes, 5.6 miles. We then hopped on a public shuttle to the Ḥaram. It took us to a bus stop right under the clock tower, where our hotel is. I found a barber and finally shaved my head to exit my iḥrām for Ḥajj. As soon as the barber finished, I heard the adhān for Fajr. I got the opportunity to pray behind one of my favorite reciters, Sh Baleela. 

I went to my room, freshened up, and headed out with Sh Nomaan for ṭawāf al-ifāḍah and saʿy. The maṭāf was absolutely full so they pushed us to the roof. Ṭawāf on the roof is long, a total of 2.5 miles. That’s 8.1 miles so far. We finished in about an hour. We then completed saʿy in another hour, which is a total of 2 miles. That’s more than 10 miles. 

We went back to the hotel and just crashed. We headed back to Mina on a bus that dropped us 20 minutes away from the Jamarāt. We stoned right before Maghrib time and walked another 2.8 miles back to our Mina camp. That’s more than 12 miles in one day!

Because of our scheduled return to Makkah and other circumstances, on the 12th of Dhūl Ḥijjah we decided to stone after Fajr. Because the bus to collect luggage showed up a little later than scheduled (it’s Hajj!) we started moving toward the Jamarāt around 9:30. At 9:30 it was already 100° plus. It is hot! We walked the 2.8 miles in the intense heat, stoned all three Jamarāt, and boarded our bus for the hotel around 11:15 am. I ended up performing the Farewell Ṭawāf around 1 am in a packed maṭāf.

May Allah ﷻ bless every single step we took, reward us for every drop of sweat, and protect us from ever experiencing the heat of the Fire. If the heat here is so intense, it is unimaginable how hot the fire of Hell will be. May Allah ﷻ protect us and remind us of that whenever we think about sinning or disobeying Allah ﷻ. May we remember that when the nafs and the whispers of Satan are trying to overcome us. 

I want to highlight three unique lessons from this year’s Ḥajj:

1. Unity – One of the most profound lessons experienced during Ḥajj is the potential for unity within our Ummah. Standing shoulder to shoulder with millions of pilgrims and circling the Kaʿbah with them, dressed in the simple, unifying white garments of iḥrām, I witnessed a powerful demonstration of equality and brotherhood. Regardless of nationality, ethnicity, or social status, every pilgrim is there for the same purpose: to worship Allah ﷻ. This unity transcends all worldly divisions and reminds us of the strength and beauty found in our collective faith. The experience reinforced the importance of solidarity and reminded me that we are all part of a global ummah, bound together by our shared beliefs and devotion.  
2. Sacrifice – Ḥajj is a journey of sacrifice; financial, physical, and emotional. People spend thousands of dollars and travel thousands of miles sacrificing comfort and convenience for a higher spiritual purpose. In Mina, you are staying in a tent with at least 50 other people with only an inch between you. You are sleeping on a simple futon, which I can’t fit on. You are sharing restrooms with a thousand other people, waiting in line for an hour or so. The sacrifice of comfort and convenience during Ḥajj is a reflection of the sacrifices we must make in our daily lives to stay true to our faith. This pilgrimage taught me that true devotion often requires enduring hardship and making personal sacrifices, all for the sake of gaining Allah’s ] Pleasure and drawing closer to Him .
3. Humility – The experience of Ḥajj destroys the ego. It is a very humbling experience. It doesn’t matter who we are, where we are from, how much money we have, or how important we think we are. None of this matters when we are in Mina, walking to the Jamarāt, standing before Allah ﷻ on ʿArafah begging for His Mercy and Forgiveness, and sleeping on the hot ground under the sky in Muzdalifah. As Americans, a lot of us are used to a life of convenience. I myself would go out of my way for personal convenience. During Ḥajj that doesn’t exist. There is no preferential treatment. I have to stand in line to use the washroom like everyone else. I have to sleep on the hot ground next to 1000’s of people in Muzdalifah just like everyone else.  

A sign of an accepted Ḥajj is that a person’s life after Ḥajj is different than their life before Ḥajj. That the experience of Ḥajj truly changed the person inside and out. May Allah ﷻ grant us an accepted Ḥajj and answer all the supplications we made throughout the Journey.

 

Related:

– A Less Than Perfect Hajj: Hajj Reflections

– The MM Recap: A Dhul-Hijjah And Hajj Resource

The post Experiences, Lessons, And Reality Checks From Hajj 2024 appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Ustadha Marjaan Ali, Ustadha Tuscany Bernier, and Zainab bint Younus talk (almost) all things niqab! In today’s context, wearing niqab is more controversial than ever… whether it’s because of Islamophobia from nonMuslim society, to Muslims who think that niqab isn’t even a part of Islam, it’s always difficult to navigate. And that’s not even dealing with the struggles of trying to eat a burger with niqab when you’re going out to eat!

From dealing with family pressures, finicky fabrics, and people who demand to know WHY you’re wearing niqab, these three niqabis have got you covered. These niqabi pro tips will answer questions you didn’t even know you had!

Ustadha Tuscany Bernier is a convert from rural Indiana who has graduated from both Mishkah University and Tayseer Seminary. She has spoken at several universities and masaajid across the United States, and enjoys life with her husband and three cats.

Ustadha Marjaan Ali is a haafidhah of the Qur’an with ijaazah in the Qira’aat Ashara Sughra and Kubra and is a graduate from Taibah university in Madinah with a bachelors in Quranic sciences. She has more than 10 years of experience teaching and doing Dawah. She lives in Dallas with her husband and two cats. 

Related:

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Niqabi In A Chocolate Shop: A Niqab Story

The post Podcast: Niqabi Pro Tips Unveiled | Ustadha Marjaan Ali & Ustadha Tuscany Bernier appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

For every crisis that comes to mind, we often have a plan in place. In the event of a fire, our response is quick and methodical. Escape routes are thoughtfully designed, fire extinguishers are easily accessible, and everyone knows to call the fire brigade to ensure help is on the way. Similarly, when faced with the prospect of losing our jobs, we take practical steps such as saving funds to help us through the transition until we find another source of income. Our preparedness extends beyond mere reactions; it involves proactive measures like keeping smoke alarms in working order and managing our finances carefully.

Yet, when it comes to a crisis that affects our spiritual lives, we often find ourselves without a clear plan. A story shared by my teacher (حفظه الله) puts this imbalance into perspective. He told us about an elderly man who, despite losing his child, rebuked those who consoled him for his loss, because no one had shown the same concern when he had previously missed praying in the masjid (a sign of a “dead” heart).

These fluctuations in imaan impact each of us at some point. The Prophet ﷺ highlighted the changeable nature of the heart when he said:

إنما القلب من تقلبه ، إنما مثل القلب كمثل ريشة معلقة في أصل شجرة يقلبها الريح ظهرا لبطن

“The heart (qalb) takes its name from its constant changes (taqallub). The likeness of the heart is that of a feather at the root of a tree, being turned over and over by the wind.”1

He ﷺ also described the heart’s rapid changes in another way:

لَقلْبُ ابنِ آدمَ أشدُّ انْقلابًا من القِدْرِ إذا اسْتجْمعتْ غَلَيانًا

“The heart of the son of Adam changes more quickly than a pot of rapidly boiling water.”2

What Is An “Imaan Dip”?

Imaan is something that fluctuates. Allah ﷻ mentions in surah al-Fath:

 

“It is He who sent down tranquillity into the hearts of the believers that they would increase in faith along with their [present] faith. And to Allah belong the soldiers of the heavens and the earth, and ever is Allah Knowing and Wise.”  [Surah Al-Fath: 48;4]

In Adwa’ al-Bayaan, Shaykh Muhammad Ameen ash-Shanqeeti (رحمه الله‎‎) explains that this verse, along with many others in the Qur’an, clearly shows that imaan can both increase and decrease.

This is a topic that affects us all, as it can have a significant impact on our lives. This is an important topic for us to be aware of, as any one of us can be affected by this and it can derail our akhira. When addressing the tabi’een, Abdullah ibn Masud said: “Whoever wants to follow a path, let him follow the path of one who has died, for the living are not safe from fitnah.”3 He was addressing some of the greatest people to touch the face of this earth, those who were only one generation removed from the Prophet ﷺ  and his students. Yet, he was warning them and reminding them, that it is still possible to falter and be tested by Allah before departing from this world.

Lost [PC: Gabriel (unsplash)]

It is crucial not to become complacent with our imaan, as shown by the example of the sahabah [ranhuma]. No matter our level of faith, we must remain vigilant. Hanzala al-Usaidi , one of the Prophet’s scribes, approached Abu Bakr in tears one day. When Abu Bakr asked him what was wrong, he replied “I feel like a hypocrite. When we are with the Messenger of Allah, we are reminded of heaven and hell as if we are seeing them with our own eyes. Yet, when we return to our daily lives, we get busy with our families and forget.” Abu Bakr admitted that he experienced the same struggle, and they both sought guidance from the Prophet ﷺ on their feelings of hypocrisy. 4

Abu ʿAbdillah al-Sunabihi once shared his experience of arriving in Madinah during the time of Abu Bakr al-Siddiq’s caliphate.5 He recounted performing the Maghrib prayer behind Abu Bakr . In the first two units, Abu Bakr recited the Umm al-Qur’an (Surah al-Fatihah) followed by a surah from the Qisar al-Mufassal (from Surah al-Duha to al-Nas). During the third unit, Abu ʿAbdillah drew close enough to Abu Bakr that his garment almost touched him. It was then that he heard Abu Bakr reciting Surah al-Fatihah and the following verse:

“[Who say], “Our Lord, let not our hearts deviate after You have guided us and grant us from Yourself mercy. Indeed, You are the Bestower.” [Surah ‘Ali-‘Imran: 3;8]

This is the same Abu Bakr , who was considered the best of humanity after the Prophets , and who had been promised entry to Jannah through all its gates.6 If Abu Bakr himself took care not to become complacent in his faith, what about us? This serves as a reminder to remain vigilant and proactive in our spiritual journey.

So, what is a dip in imaan? It’s a phase we’ve all encountered at some point, so it’s relatable to many of us. It’s a period when your faith weakens after a time of strength. You may feel lazy after a period of productivity and enthusiasm for good deeds. The passion for doing acts of good may diminish, and the love for them may wane in your heart.

My teacher (حفظه الله) categorizes these dips in imaan into three levels:

1. A significant dip in imaan where someone completely loses their way.  نسأل الله السلامة والعافية  – we ask Allah for His Safety and Pardon from such a trial. 
2. A moderate dip in imaan where you may stray slightly from the right path but find your way back to good deeds. For instance, you may still be praying but struggling to find motivation.
3. A minor dip in imaan, which is a common experience even for the best of us, but you recover quickly.

The Wisdom Behind A Dip In Imaan

The wisdom behind a dip in imaan is that it serves as a reminder to be grateful for it in the first place. 

Allah ﷻ tells us in Surah Ibrahim:

 

“And [remember] when your Lord proclaimed, ‘If you are grateful, I will surely increase you [in favor]; but if you deny, indeed, My punishment is severe.'” [Surah Ibrahim: 14;7]

The blessing of imaan and experiencing its sweetness is more valuable than any treasure we can find in this world. We often forget that this faith is a gift from Allah and not something we inherently deserve. As one of the pious predecessors, Ibrahim ibn Adham (رحمه الله), once said, “If the kings and their sons knew what we experience of pleasure and happiness in Islam, they would fight us for it with their swords.”7

These dips also serve as a gentle nudge to stay vigilant and mindful of our imaan, and to continuously nourish it in the right ways.

Signs Of A Dip In Imaan

It’s crucial to recognize when our imaan is shifting. Abu Darda is reported to have said, “One of the signs of proper understanding is when a slave takes care of his imaan, and pays attention to what decreases it, and knows when it increases and when it decreases, and recognises the temptation of shaytaan when he comes to him.”8

• Negligence in Acts of Worship

When someone is experiencing a dip in imaan, they may struggle to engage in and find motivation for acts of worship. This change can be diagnosed through a noticeable behaviour change—for example, someone who used to consistently pray the 12 raka’ahs of sunnan al-rawatib might now find it hard to do so. Similarly, prayers such as witr, duha, and qiyaam may disappear from their daily routine.

Even if a person continues to observe acts of worship, they may feel empty and soulless, lacking any true connection with Allah . This kind of worship, without khushu’, can be concerning. Allah ﷻ describes the worship of hypocrites in the Qur’an as: 

“Indeed, the hypocrites [think to] deceive Allah , but He is deceiving them. And when they stand for prayer, they stand lazily, showing [themselves to] the people and not remembering Allah except a little.“ [Surah An-Nisa: 4;142]

• Starting to Commit Sins

When imaan weakens, individuals may start to justify and rationalise their sins. This can be a gradual trap set by shaytaan. They might begin to think that this is just a minor sin,  it’s acceptable or excusable. Excuses like “I’m going on Umrah soon, Allah will forgive me,” or “I can easily stop, this isn’t my usual behaviour ” may arise.

This mindset can lead down a path laden with difficulty. When a person justifies sins, they may continue committing them without remorse, failing to make tawbah. If they don’t break the cycle, they may become comfortable with sin – even committing them openly. Just as good deeds lead to more good, sins can also lead to more sins. The Prophet ﷺ described someone who openly commits sins:

“Everyone from my nation will be forgiven except those who sin in public. Among them is a man who commits an evil deed in the night that Allah has hidden for him, then in the morning he says: O people, I have committed this sin! His Lord had hidden it during the night, but in the morning he reveals what Allah has hidden.”9

This state of heedlessness can make it hard to distinguish between right and wrong. Abdullah ibn Mas’ud ,  the beloved student of the Prophet ﷺ, described the contrast between believers and those trapped in perpetual sin:

إِنَّ الْمُؤْمِنَ يَرَى ذُنُوبَهُ كَأَنَّهُ قَاعِدٌ تَحْتَ جَبَلٍ يَخَافُ أَنْ يَقَعَ عَلَيْهِ وَإِنَّ الْفَاجِرَ يَرَى ذُنُوبَهُ كَذُبَابٍ مَرَّ عَلَى أَنْفِهِ

“Verily, the believer views his sins as if he were sitting under a mountain, fearing it will fall upon him. The wicked views his sins as if they were a fly passing over his nose.”10

• Awkwardness Towards Righteous Brothers and Sisters

Another sign of low imaan is avoiding believers known for their righteousness. You may find yourself withdrawing from them, not wanting to meet or respond to their messages. Instead, you may seek company that won’t question your actions.  The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said,  “No two people loved one another for the sake of Allah Almighty, or for Islam, then separated from one another but that it was due to a sin one of them committed.”11

Virtuous company has a transformative effect on our imaan. Hasan al-Basri (رحمه الله) emphasised the value of companionship:

‎إخواننا أحب إلينا من أهلينا وأولادنا، لأن أهلنا يذكروننا بالدنيا وإخواننا يذكروننا بالله والدار الآخرة

“Our brothers are more beloved to us than our family members and our children. For our families remind us of the dunya, while our brothers remind us of Allah and the abode of the akhirah.”12

• A Hardened Heart

In a crisis of imaan, one may find that the Qur’an no longer moves them. Allah ﷻ tells us in Surah at-Tawbah:

 

“And whenever a surah is revealed, there are among the hypocrites those who say, “Which of you has this increased faith?” As for those who believed, it has increased them in faith, while they are rejoicing.” [Surah At-Tawbah: 9;124]

Despite its descriptions of paradise, hellfire, commands, prohibitions, and lessons from the lives of nations that have gone, you may become easily bored with its message. You may find yourself closing the cover of your mushaf soon after opening it. Uthman ibn Affan said “If our hearts were pure, we would never be tired of the speech of Allah.”13

Regardless of the strength of the reminder, it may not resonate. Whether at a circle of remembrance or a funeral, the heart may remain unmoved, even in the face of one’s own mortality. Allah ﷻ describes this hardened state in the Qur’an:

 

“Then your hearts became hardened after that, being like stones or even harder. For indeed, there are stones from which rivers burst forth, and there are some of them that split open and water comes out, and there are some of them that fall down for fear of Allah . And Allah is not unaware of what you do.” [Surah Al Baqarah: 2;74]

• No Care for the Affairs of the Muslims

When the wider ummah faces difficulties, a sign of low imaan may be a lack of sadness or even rejoicing over their hardships. RasulAllah ﷺ said, “The parable of the believers in their affection, mercy, and compassion for each other is that of a body. When any limb aches, the whole body reacts with sleeplessness and fever.”14

If this is how believers are meant to feel, then the absence of concern for the ummah may indicate a deeper issue. For instance, consider the current plight of our beloved brothers and sisters in Gaza. What have you been doing? Reflect on your own feelings and reactions to understand the state of your imaan.

• A Focus on the Luxuries of the Dunya

Eyes on the dunya [PC: Nathan Dumlao (unsplash)]

When a person becomes overly focused on the luxuries of this world, they may lose sight of their role as temporary trustees of these riches. When the Prophet ﷺ sent Muadh ibn Jabal to Yemen, he advised him to “beware of luxury, for the servants of Allah do not live luxuriously.”15  

This switch can be concerning, especially if the person previously showed little interest in material excess. They may start seeking the finest clothes, the most expensive homes, and the most sophisticated foods. This attachment to the dunya can also be identified in the envy of others’ wealth. A person may feel they aren’t receiving their “fair” share and wish for the possessions of their fellow believers. This type of envy is dangerous, as the Prophet ﷺ said,  “imaan and envy do not co-exist within a believing servant.”16

• Wasting Time

Another sign of a dip in imaan is an increase in procrastination. This might manifest as wishful thinking without much actual progress. Our deen emphasises action. Allah ﷻ tells us in Ali ‘Imran:

 

“And hasten to forgiveness from your Lord and a garden as wide as the heavens and earth, prepared for the righteous.” [Surah ‘Ali-‘Imran: 3;133]

He also describes the best of His Servants, the Prophets and Messengers by saying:

 

“So We responded to him, and We gave to him John, and amended for him his wife. Indeed, they used to hasten to good deeds and supplicate Us in hope and fear, and they were to Us humbly submissive.” [Surah Al-Anbiya: 21;90]

When Imam al-Bukhari (رحمه الله) had an idea, he would get out of bed, light his lamp, and write it down. The great scholars of the past made full use of their time and advised others to do the same.

Ibn al-Jawzi (رحمه الله) warned, “Beware of procrastination, for it is the most important weapon of Iblis.”17

Ibn al-Qayyim (رحمه الله) echoed this sentiment:  “How often does a virtuous deed run towards you only to be stopped at the door by the guards of ‘perhaps’, ‘soon’ and ‘maybe’.”18

Ibrahim at-Taymi (رحمه الله) said, “I imagined myself in the Garden eating from its fruit, embracing its virgins and enjoying its bliss, and then I asked myself, ‘My self, what do you desire?’ It replied, ‘I want to return to the world to do more of the deeds by which I obtained this.’ Then I imagined myself in Hell burning with its fire, gulping down its hot water and eating its bitter fruit. I asked myself, ‘What do you desire?’ It answered, ‘To return to the world and perform actions by which I can deliver myself from this.’ So I told myself, “Myself, you have what you wish, so act!”19

Causes of a Dip in Imaan

It is also pivotal to be able to recognize and understand why we may be undergoing a dip in imaan. These, like the above signs of a dip, are just amongst a few mentioned by my teacher ( حفظه الله ). 

• Insincerity 

Continuously questioning our intentions is crucial. Would you still perform good deeds if no one knew about them, or if they weren’t well-received? Are you more concerned with people’s praise than with Allah’s Acceptance? When you learn Islamic knowledge, is your goal to impress others or to rectify yourself before meeting Allah ? These are questions only you can answer.

One of our pious predecessors, Bishr ibn al-Harith (رحمه الله),  said:

لا يجد حلاوة الآخِرة رجُلٌ يُحٍبُّ أن يعرفهُ النّاس

“It is impossible for someone to taste the sweetness of the akhira, if they desire recognition from people.”20

Imam ad-Dhahabi also relayed that Bishr advised us to “not act in order to be mentioned, hide your good deeds the way you hide your bad deeds.”21

The great scholar Fudayl ibn Iyad (رحمه الله) echoed this sentiment: “If you can be unknown, do so. It doesn’t matter if you are not known and it doesn’t matter if you are not praised.  It doesn’t matter if you are blameworthy according to people if you are praiseworthy with Allah, Mighty and Majestic.”22

• Weakness in Islamic Knowledge & Not Acting upon It

A dip in imaan may stem from a lack of understanding of Shaytaan’s deceptions. Shaytaan has been our sworn enemy since the beginning of time, and he seeks to lead us astray in any way he can. His deception may even come in the form of apparent good, such as reciting Qur’an late at night but missing Fajr as a result.

Similarly, the knowledge we acquire can be detrimental if we fail to apply it to ourselves. Imam ad-Dhahabi (رحمه الله) stated, “Whoever seeks knowledge in order to act by it, his knowledge humbles him and causes him to weep at himself. But whoever learns knowledge just to teach, give fatwas, or to brag or to show-off, becomes foolish, arrogant, argumentative, perishes in his vanity, and is despised by others.”23

It’s common for someone to become overly confident in their knowledge, even if they have only scratched the surface. True knowledge is implanted through constant repetition and revision to see what we have understood and implemented, and to identify which things we’ve learned but not yet lived. 

No matter how far you’ve gotten on your journey, you will never reach a stage where a reminder is beyond you. This is reflected throughout the Qur’an. Allah ﷻ repeatedly mentions Jannah and its fruits. If we were people who would take heed from hearing something just once, why is Jannah mentioned so many times?

• Being Consumed with Work, Marriage, and Life

Allah ﷻ mentions in the Qur’an:

 

 

“And know that your properties and your children are but a trial and that Allah has with Him a great reward.” [Surah Al-Anfal: 8;28]

Another verse tells us:

“Beautified for people is the love of that which they desire – of women and sons, heaped-up sums of gold and silver, fine branded horses, and cattle and tilled land. That is the enjoyment of worldly life, but Allah has with Him the best return.” [Surah ‘Ali-‘Imran: 3;14]

As people take on new responsibilities like work and marriage, it’s natural for areas of worship to take a hit. While marriage and children are essential and encouraged, they should not become excuses to neglect your spiritual well-being. For example, when you have children – it is admirable and necessary to provide for them. Perhaps, you want to leave behind for them wealth in order to make life easier for them once you depart from this world. Does that mean, however, that in order to achieve that wealth, you misprioritize and let go of your prayer? Or that you stop reciting the Qur’an? 

• Keeping Bad Company

Sometimes, the cause of a dip in imaan can be traced back to the company we keep. The Qur’an reminds us that most of our companions may lead us astray. Allah ﷻ tells us in az-Zukhruf:

 

 

“Close friends, that Day, will be enemies to each other, except for the righteous.” [Surah Az-Zukhruf: 43;67]

In rare instances, beneficial friendships are found, so we should strive to maintain such relationships when we identify them.

Allah ﷻ tells us in Surah al-Kahf:

 

وَٱصْبِرْ نَفْسَكَ مَعَ ٱلَّذِينَ يَدْعُونَ رَبَّهُم بِٱلْغَدَوٰةِ وَٱلْعَشِىِّ يُرِيدُونَ وَجْهَهُۥ ۖ وَلَا تَعْدُ عَيْنَاكَ عَنْهُمْ تُرِيدُ زِينَةَ ٱلْحَيَوٰةِ ٱلدُّنْيَا ۖ وَلَا تُطِعْ مَنْ أَغْفَلْنَا قَلْبَهُۥ عَن ذِكْرِنَا وَٱتَّبَعَ هَوَىٰهُ وَكَانَ أَمْرُهُۥ فُرُطًۭا 

“And keep yourself patient [by being] with those who call upon their Lord in the morning and the evening, seeking His countenance. And let not your eyes pass beyond them, desiring adornments of the worldly life, and do not obey one whose heart We have made heedless of Our remembrance and who follows his desire and whose affair is ever [in] neglect.” [Surah Al-Kahf: 18;28]

Imam Ahmad (رحمه الله) explained the value of righteous company, asking, “How will someone discover their flaws without a friend to correct them or show them aversion when necessary?” 24

Bad company may not only ignore your struggles in deen, but also lead you toward actions that harm your faith.

• Belittling the Impact of Sins

Neglecting sins can lead to the depletion of Allah’s Blessings. Ibn al-Qayyim (رحمه الله) said, “Indeed the slave (of Allah) does not (continue to) commit sins until he (begins to) underestimate them and considers them small in his heart, thus causing him to perish. For indeed, when the sin is considered small in the eye of the slave, it is great with Allah.”25

My teacher (حفظه الله) always emphasizes to us that “there has never been anything to remove Allah’s blessings like sinning. There has never been anything to keep Allah’s blessings like obedience and there has never been anything to increase Allah’s blessings like gratitude.  Understand this, as whatever you have will flourish, be it marriage/work, etc. ”   

There is no greater blessing bestowed upon the creation than the gift of imaan – is it really surprising that imaan is removed from our hearts as a result of our sins?

• Questioning the Intentions of Others

Our spiritual state can suffer if we become overly focused on questioning others’ intentions. Instead of scrutinizing others, we should start by looking at ourselves. By constantly thinking the worst of fellow believers, we risk distancing ourselves from Allah .

The Muhaddith, Ibn Hibban (رحمه الله), wrote that  “it is obligatory upon an intelligent person to look to his own safety by not hunting for people’s faults and spying on them; instead, he should busy himself with rectifying his own faults. Whoever concentrates on his own faults will bring relief to his body and will not exhaust and trouble his heart. This is because each time a person finds a fault in himself, it will be easier for him to bear the same fault he sees in his Muslim brother.

However, someone who is engrossed with the faults of others rather than his own will find his heart becoming blind and his body, weary because he will have found the excuse to ignore his own failings.”26

• Ignorance of the Obstacles on the Journey

Another reason for a dip in imaan may be the lack of awareness that the path toward Allah and Jannah are not always easy. When faced with challenges, you may feel despondent. If the highest ranks of Jannah were easily attainable, everyone would reach them. We should take inspiration from the lives of the Prophets , who endured the most tests because they were the best of people.

Our beloved Rasul ﷺ experienced hunger, loss of wealth, and the death of loved ones, including his wife, parents, and children. He faced rejection from his family and community, enduring all of this for the sake of Allah . When Sa’ad ibn Abbi Waqqas asked the Messenger of Allah, “Ya RasulAllah – who are the people that are tested the most?” He replied, “They are the prophets, then the next best, then the next best. A man is put to trial according to his religion. If he is firm in his religion, his trials will be more severe. If he is weak in his religion, he is put to trial according to his strength in religion. The servant will continue to be put to trial until he is left walking upon the earth without any sin.”27

The Prophet ﷺ also said, “How wonderful the affair of the believer is! Indeed, all of his affairs are good for him. This is for no one but the believer. If something good happens to him, he is grateful to Allah, which is good for him. And if something bad happens to him, he has patience, which is good for him.”28 This is the fundamental difference between the life of the believer and the disbeliever. Both experience ease and difficulty, but the believer’s response draws them closer to their Lord.

Shaykh al-Islam, Ibn Taymiyyah (رحمه الله) noted, “If tribulations become hard for the righteous believer, they’re a means for him reaching a loftier rank and a greater reward.” 29

His student, Ibn al-Qayyim (رحمه الله), explained that the “trials that befall a believer are like medication that remove disease from his body which, if left inside, would destroy him or diminish his reward and rank.”30  

The Cure 

• Recognizing that Imaan is a Gift From Allah

First, we need to understand that our imaan is a gift from Allah and the most precious thing we possess in this world. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ  said, “Verily, the hearts of the children of Adam, all of them, are between the two fingers of the Merciful as one heart. He directs them wherever He wills.”31 He also said, “Verily, the faith of one of you will wear out within him, just as a shirt becomes worn out, so ask Allah to renew faith in your hearts.”32

Once we grasp this, we realize that the most important action we can take is to turn to Allah and consistently ask Him to preserve and increase our imaan. We must rely on Allah , seeking His help to nurture our faith. Here are some dua’s from the Prophet ﷺ and the Qur’an that can help us strengthen our heart and imaan:

اللهم اجعلني لك شاكرًا، لك ذاكرًا، لك راهبًا، لك مِطواعًا، إليك مُخْبِتًا، أو مُنِيبا، رب تقبَّل توبتي، واغسل حَوْبتي، وأجب دعوتي، وثبِّت حُجَّتي، واهدِ قلبي، وسدِّد لساني، واسْلُلْ سَخِيمةَ قلبي

“O Allah, make me grateful to You, remembering You, fearful of You, obedient to You, and humble to You or returning to You in repentance. O Lord, accept my repentance, wash away my sins, answer my supplication, establish my proof (words), guide my heart, make my tongue speak the truth, and take resentment (hatred) away from my heart.”33

اللَّهُمَّ اجْعَلْ فِي قَلْبِي نُورًا وَفِي لِسَانِي نُورًا وَاجْعَلْ فِي سَمْعِي نُورًا وَاجْعَلْ فِي بَصَرِي نُورًا وَاجْعَلْ مِنْ خَلْفِي نُورًا وَمِنْ أَمَامِي نُورًا وَاجْعَلْ مِنْ فَوْقِي نُورًا وَمِنْ تَحْتِي نُورًا اللَّهُمَّ أَعْطِنِي نُورً

“O Allah, place light in my heart and light on my tongue. Place light in my hearing and light in my seeing. Place light behind me and light in front of me. Place light above me and light below me. O Allah, grant me light!”34

رَبَّنَا ٱغْفِرْ لَنَا وَلِإِخْوَٰنِنَا ٱلَّذِينَ سَبَقُونَا بِٱلْإِيمَـٰنِ وَلَا تَجْعَلْ فِى قُلُوبِنَا غِلًّۭا لِّلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ رَبَّنَآ إِنَّكَ رَءُوفٌۭ رَّحِيمٌ 

“Our Lord, forgive us and our brothers who preceded us in faith and put not in our hearts [any] resentment towards those who have believed. Our Lord, indeed You are Kind and Merciful.”35

رَبَّنَا لَا تُزِغْ قُلُوبَنَا بَعْدَ إِذْ هَدَيْتَنَا وَهَبْ لَنَا مِن لَّدُنكَ رَحْمَةً ۚ إِنَّكَ أَنتَ ٱلْوَهَّابُ 

“Our Lord! Make not our hearts to deviate after You have guided us, and grant us mercy; Surely You are the Giver.”36

يَا مُقَلِّبَ الْقُلُوبِ ثَبِّتْ قَلْبِي عَلَى دِينِكَ

“O Turner of the hearts, make my heart adhere firmly to Your religion.”37

اللهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ إِيمَانًا لاَ يَرْتَدُّ، وَنَعِيمًا لاَ يَنْفَدُ، وَمُرَافَقَةَ مُحَمَّدٍ صَلى الله عَلَيه وسَلم فِي أَعْلَى جَنَّةِ الْخُلْدِ

“O Allah, I ask you for such Imaan that does not waver and tranquility that does not diminish and the companionship of our Prophet ﷺ  in the highest stations of the everlasting Jannah.”38

• Avoiding Causes

After seeking Allah’s Protection, the best approach is, of course, to avoid anything that harms our imaan. By staying away from causes of dips in imaan, we can more effectively preserve and protect it. 

• Have an Emergency Imaan Toolkit

Despite our best efforts, there may be times when we experience dips in imaan. In such situations, having a personalized resource of imaan boosters can be helpful. This could include written quotes, stories, verses from the Qur’an, or reminders that resonate with you. Compile these resources and keep them handy for when you need a boost.

Here are some examples of the reminders I find beneficial:

“The Goodly Life” – Sheikh Muhammad Mukhtar Ash-Shinqitee [HD 720p]

يتوسل إلى الله بطريقة عجيبة، روووعة || الشيخ سعيد الكملي

‘Yawm al Mazeed’ – Emotional khutbah [Eng subtitles]

Sheikh Saleh Al Maghamsi: Good deeds for the sake of Allah

EMOTIONAL STORY – ‘AHMED THE REPENTER’ – BILAL ASSAD

• Imaani Circles of Remembrance

Remember, imaan boosters are temporary measures. It’s essential to have regular practices that nurture your imaan. This could involve informal circles with friends discussing topics such as sincerity and gratitude or structured gatherings.

The Messenger of Allah ﷺ  said, “When you pass by the meadows of Jannah indulge freely in them!” The sahabah asked what are these gardens of paradise? He ﷺ  replied “Circles of remembrance.”39

Working on our imaan is a recurring theme among the pious predecessors. Ameerul Mu’mineen, Umar ibn al-Khattab , encouraged his companions by saying, “Come, let us increase in our imaan.”40 Muadh ibn Jabal would tell others, “Let us sit for a while so we can increase our imaan; let us remember Allah Ta’ala.”41

Allah ﷻ says:

“Has the time not come for those who have believed that their hearts should become humbly submissive at the remembrance of Allah and what has come down of the truth? And let them not be like those who were given the Scripture before, and a long period passed over them, so their hearts hardened; and many of them are defiantly disobedient.” [Surah Al-Hadid: 57;16]

• Tawbah

Ibn al-Qayyim (رحمه الله) mentions in al-Fawa’id:

والقلبُ يمرضُ كما يمرضُ البدنُ وشِفاؤه في التّوبة 

“The heart becomes sick just as the body does, and its healing lies in tawbah.”42

Shaykh al-Islam, Ibn Taymiyyah (رحمه الله) stated, “Whoever notices that his chest is not opened and he does not experience the sweetness of imaan and the light of guidance, then he should increase in tawbah and seeking forgiveness.”43

• Good Deeds

Ibn al-Qayyim (رحمه الله) elaborates on healing a sick heart:

والقلبُ يمرضُ كما يمرضُ البدنُ وشِفاؤه في التّوبة والحمية، ويصدأُ كما تصدأ المرآة وجلاؤه بالذِّكر

“The heart becomes sick just as the body does, and its healing lies in tawbah and fostering enthusiasm (for goodness). The heart also rusts just like the mirror rusts,  and its polish lies in making dhikr of Allah.”44

Good deeds are an effective way to increase our imaan and open the door to even more good. Ibn Rajab (رحمه الله) said, “If a person is troubled by his wrongdoing and performs righteous actions to make up for them, then this is a sign of his imaan”45

Allah ﷻ describes believers as those who:

‎وَيَدْرَءُونَ بِالْحَسَنَةِ السَّيِّئَةَ

“Push away evil with that which is good.” [Surah Al Qasas: 28;54]

The best believers consistently strive for righteous actions, which can take many forms. Diversify the good you do, from reciting the Qur’an to helping those in need. These acts replenish our hearts with light. This is why we should look to the example of Abu Bakr , who was famously narrated to fast, attend janazahs, distribute food to the needy, and visit the sick on the same day. 46

When we struggle with our imaan, some acts of worship may become more challenging, such as the night prayer. Scholars of the past have encouraged focusing on adkhar, especially the weighty ones we should recite throughout the day, such as:

لا إله إلا الله وحده لا شريك له له الملك وله الحمد وهو على كل شيء قدير

“There is no god but Allah; He has no partner; to Him belongs the Sovereignty and Praise, and He is Able to do all things.”

Remaining committed to these words of remembrance and being among those who frequently remember Allah will only increase your imaan and open the doors to other good deeds.

Allah explains the impact of dhikr on the heart in ar-Ra’d:

“Those who have believed and whose hearts are assured by the remembrance of Allah. Unquestionably, by the remembrance of Allah hearts are assured.“ [Surah Ar-Ra’d: 13;28]

A man once asked Hasan al-Basri (رحمه الله) how to increase imaan. He said, “Ya Abu Sa’eed, I am complaining to you of the hardness of my heart.” Hasan replied, “Soften it with dhikr.”47

• Righteous Companionship

Keeping righteous company helps hold each other accountable [PC: Masjid MABA (unsplash)]

Righteous companionship brings happiness in this life and the next. Believers should gather to renew their imaan and remind one another about Allah . Surround yourself with friends who seek goodness, as they will notice when you’re struggling and offer support. This company can lead you to a heart filled with imaan and, ultimately, Jannah.

Ibn Mas’ud advised us to, “Remember Allah Almighty often. You must not accompany anyone unless they help you remember Allah Almighty.”48

• Patience 

Patience and perseverance are vital to recovering from an imaan dip. Progress may be slow, but consistently fortifying your imaan will bring relief. Remember that pursuing Allah’s Pleasure leads to the truly beautiful life.

Ameerul Mu’mineen, Umar ibn al-Khattab , said:

وَجَدْنَا خَيْرَ عَيْشِنَا بِالصَّبْرِ

“We considered the best part of our lives to be that in which there was patience.”49

This outlook aligns with Allah’s Statement:

 

“O you who have believed, seek help through patience and prayer. Indeed, Allah is with the patient.” [Surah Al-Baqarah: 2;153]

Conclusion

Our journey with imaan is a deeply personal one, with moments of strength and periods of weakness. Understanding the nature of these fluctuations is essential for nurturing and preserving our imaan. By recognizing the causes of dips and actively seeking to avoid them, we can create a path toward spiritual resilience.

Remember that every moment presents an opportunity for growth, and every difficulty serves as a chance to draw closer to Allah ﷻ. We should strive to embrace these challenges and use them as stepping stones toward a deeper, more meaningful connection with our Creator.

May Allah adorn us all with the beauty of Imaan, allow us to taste its sweetness and preserve it in our hearts. 

اَللّٰهُمَّ زَيِّنَّا بِزِيْنَةِ الْإِيْمَانِ ، وَاجْعَلْنَا هُدَاةً مُّهْتَدِيْنَ

O Allah, adorn us with the beauty of imaan and make us those who guide others and are guided themselves.

 

Related:

– A Deeper Look At Imaan

– [Podcast] Man 2 Man: How Social Media Is Killing Your Imaan

 

1    Sunan Ibn Majah 882    Saheeh al-Jami’ 51473    Jaami‘ Bayaan al-‘Ilm wa Fadluhu, 2/947, no. 18104    Saheeh Muslim 2750a5    al-Muwatta of Imam Malik, 2596    Saheeh Bukhari 36667    al-Zuhd al-Kabir lil-Bayhaqi 808    Kitab al-Iman, IbnTaymiyyah pg. 1779    Saheeh al-Bukhari 6069, Saheeh Muslim 299010    Saheeh al-Bukhari 594911    al-Adab al-Mufrad lil-Bukhari 40112    Ihya Ulum al-Din 2/17613    Hilyat al-Awliya’ 7/27214    Saheeh al-Bukhari 6011, Saheeh Muslim 258615    Musnad Ahmad 2210516    Sunan al-Nasa’i 310917    Sayd al-Khatir pg. 20618    al-Fawa’id pg. 6319    Al-Takhwif Min Al-Nar (47)20    Hilyat al-Awliya’ 8/34321    Siyar A’lam an-Nubala 10/47622    Hilyat al-Awliya’ 8/8823    Siyar A’lam an-Nubala 18/19224    Al-Adaab ash-Shar’iyyah, Ibn Muflih 1/22925    Al-Da’a wa Al-Dawa’a, pg 5826    Rawdatul ‘Uqalaa, pg. 12527    Sunan at-Tirmidhi 239828    Saheeh Muslim 299929    Al-Istiqaamah 2/26030    Ighaathatul lahfaan, 2/93531    Saheeh Muslim 265432    al-Mu’jam al-Kabir lil-Tabarani 1466833    Sunan Abi Dawud 151034    Saheeh al-Bukhari 6316, Saheeh Muslim 76335    Qur’an 59:1036    Qur’an 3:837    Sunan at-Tirmidhi 214038    Saheeh Ibn Hibban 197039    Sunan al-Tirmidhi 351040    Tahdhib Sunan Abi Dawud, 3/17941    Fath al-Bari 1/1342    al-Fawa’id, pg. 9843    Majmu al-Fatawa 5/2644    al-Fawa’id, pg. 9845    Fath al-Bari 3/2846    Saheeh Muslim 1028b47    Ar-Riqqah Wal Buka’, Ibn Abi Dunya pg. 6248    Shu’ab al-Iman 899849    Kitab az-Zuhd, Ahmad ibn Hanbal 612

The post The Fluctuating Heart : Identifying and Managing Dips In Imaan appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Prophetic Mercy Towards Children

Once, the Prophet ﷺ kissed Hasan in front of a Qurayshi man, who reacted in dismay. “I have ten children, but I have never kissed any one of them,” the man said, a reflection of a society and age where children were thought of as objects and mere sources of prestige. The response of the Prophet ﷺ was simple: “Whoever is not merciful to others will not be treated mercifully.” In other hadith, the Prophet ﷺ made this point even more explicitly about young people, saying “Whoever does not show mercy to our young ones, or acknowledge the rights of our elders, is not one of us.” The Prophet ﷺ had exceptional moral vision and clarity in many ways, all while existing amid an incredibly harsh and repressive society. His treatment of children and the young is just one example of this; treatment that was full of care and genuine concern for the well-being and humanity of the young in an age which dehumanized them and thought of having children in entirely utilitarian terms. The Prophet ﷺ exemplified this regard for the young in his conduct, a shining model of those who are older not regarding themselves as somehow superior by virtue of age alone. 

Today, more than 13,000 children in Gaza have been killed by Israeli bombardment, and those left behind face conditions of famine and the destruction of educational and medical infrastructure that will impact them for the rest of their lives. And yet, much of the world seems to sit idly by, exhibiting no real sense of compassion or empathy for their plight, let alone doing anything about it: like in the time of the Prophet ﷺ, children are being regarded as having no value and are relegated to being mere casualty numbers and objects for news reports. Understanding the Prophetic practice of caring for the young feels particularly vital today then, as we find ourselves in the face of a genocide that dehumanizes and destroys the lives of children. In these conditions of crisis, the ummah must seriously ask ourselves whether we are, like the Prophet ﷺ, standing against this culture of disregarding children or are we acquiescing to the culture of dehumanization around us? Why are we failing to live up to the example of intense care and valuing of youth given by the Prophet ﷺ? Are we sincerely striving to honor the children of our ummah, to be a mercy to them, and make them feel important and empowered? 

The Ummah’s Children in Contemporary Art 

These questions of how we hear children’s voices in times of crisis have taken on a dramatic, three-dimensional form on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in its most recent Roof Garden Commission. Standing on the roof, looking out over the view of Central Park and the City’s famous skyline, one’s vision is interrupted by large, cartoon-like metal renderings of spiders, birds, flowers, and a wide range of other imagery and symbols. 

These sculptures are, at least on the surface, the work of Kosovar artist Petrit Halilaj, but their real authorship becomes more complicated when considering Halilaj’s source material. If Halilaj’s work appears whimsical or childlike, it is because it is: the sculptures on the roof garden are based on children’s drawings and writings on desks from the school in Halilaj’s hometown of Runik, Kosovo, and from across Albania and the former Yugoslavia. In Abetare, the title of the Met exhibit taken from the title of a Kosovar alphabet textbook, and in other works like Very volcanic over this green feather based on his own childhood drawings from his time in a refugee camp, Halilaj draws on the work and imagination of children to ask serious questions about history, trauma, and memory. 

Children As Witnesses and Historians 

Kosovo is perhaps a forgotten chapter in the history of the ummah for many Muslims: the Balkans do not often figure into people’s imagination of what is considered the “Muslim world,” even if over 95% of Kosovo’s population is Muslim. However, what Halilaj’s work makes clear is that the rest of the ummah, the ostensible adults in the room, may fail to remember and mourn the ethnic cleansing of Kosovar Muslims, the over one million people displaced by a genocidal Serbian regime, or the entire villages and histories erased. But the children of Kosovo will not forget. The example of the Prophet ﷺ is not just to care for young people, but to actively entrust them with knowledge and responsibility, such as his appointment of the teenager Usama Ibn Zayd as a general to lead other prominent sahaba, and Halilaj’s artwork is evidence of this tradition of the youth of the ummah stepping into roles with great stakes.

An exhibit from Halilaj’s ‘Abetare’ at the MET

These doodles on desks are not, after all, just doodles: they are fragments of history, archives of conflict, genocide, and migration produced through the unique vision and imagination of the young.

As the exhibit’s wall text describes, “In Abetare, culturally specific references to different political ideologies, religions, and local heroes coexist with more universal symbols and playful nods to pop culture, art history, and sports,” meaning there is a deep significance to these drawings as a record of Kosovo’s powerful history.

Far from mere drawings, these cultural productions show the active role of young people in knowledge production, in preserving memory, and in defining the meaning of important moments. Intuitively, one might associate the past with the old, but Halilaj’s elevation of childhood drawings to the prestigious walls of the Met reminds us that the process of bearing witness knows no age limit. When we learn to recognize the young as historical actors, we see the deep consciousness, imagination, and courage that infuses their acts of witnessing, the assertion of a presence “here” that cannot be ignored. 

Witnessing Our Children 

These are not merely speculative thoughts about art though: we are seeing the deeply practical significance of Halilaj’s work before our eyes, as the children of Gaza continue the tradition of the young bearing witness. Every day, so much of the material that alerts the rest of the world to what is happening in Gaza is produced by the young; videos of children testifying to what is happening and showing the world the resilience of the Palestinian people have been a constant online. What Halilaj’s work can make clear for us, as witnesses to these witnesses, is that the young people who take on this work of memory are not idle victims. Rather, they are the active producers of history, of memory and meaning, and the question for us becomes how we will honor their agency and force as historical agents. Writing on the shared etymology of witness and martyr in Arabic, University of Chicago Islamic Studies Professor Alireza Doostdar draws on the work of Islamic philosopher Ali Shariati to point to the responsibility of those left behind to the memory of the martyr:

“For Shariati, every death on the path of God was an act of witnessing with one’s life, whereby one declares one’s commitment to the truth before God and human history. Shariati thought it paramount to include humanity as the audience for a martyr’s act of witness (along with God) because he believed that the martyr’s truth was a message meant to be communicated to others so that they could in turn receive and act upon it. The martyr/witness offers testimony with her or his life not only for the sake of salvation, but also to enable others to receive the truth, and, in turn, bear witness.” 

Halilaj’s work reminds us of this responsibility we have to bear witness to the children of Gaza bearing witness. Their brave acts of witnessing are incomplete unless we have the moral fortitude and insight to recognize the significance of what they are doing. Let us learn from Halilaj’s work on Kosovo so that we might achieve that recognition now, while the situation cannot be more urgent, rather than waiting 30 years for a museum to do it for us. 

[Petri Halilaj: Abetare is on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art through October 27th. Admission to the exhibit is included with a Museum ticket.]

 

Related:

– Oped: The Treachery Of Spreading Bosnia Genocide Denial In The Muslim Community

– Real-Time Scholasticide: The War On Education In Gaza

The post Centering The Children Of The Ummah – Artist Petrit Halilaj’s Work On Kosovo Resonates In The Moment Of Palestine appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

We may encounter emotional crises at some point in our lives, making it challenging to cope. These crises can arise from various sources, such as marital problems, health issues, financial setbacks, or the sudden loss of loved ones. During such times, we often experience mental, physical, emotional, and behavioral distress.

The negative psychological, physiological, and behavioral impacts of trauma can lead to conditions like stress, depression, anxiety, and insomnia. Therefore, it is crucial to cope effectively and promptly with our stressors and emotional traumas. In fact, there is so much guidance from the Quran and Sunnah that provides assistance, resources, stabilization, and support to help us navigate through these challenging times.

Islamic Guidance on Self-Healing

The Quran and Hadiths offer extensive guidance on emotional self-healing. They teach us to return to our normal level of functioning, which we maintained before the crisis. The beauty of Islamic teachings lies in how they provide reassurance and direction for those grappling with crisis situations. They offer deep insights into the self-healing process by emphasizing virtues like patience, gratitude, trust in Allah , seeking refuge in Him , being hopeful to Allah , and the healing power of dhikr during crisis. 

 – Be Patient in Adversity

The Holy Quran states,

“Be patient in adversity; for, verily, God will not let the reward of the righteous be wasted” [Surah Hud: 11;115]

Prophet Muhammad emphasized the virtues of self-reliance and patience, saying, “Whoever abstains from asking others will be made content by Allah, and whoever tries to be self-sufficient will be made self-sufficient by Allah. And whoever remains patient, Allah will make him patient. Nobody can be given a blessing better and greater than patience” [Sahih Bukhari, vol 2, Hadith 548]

The teachings from the Quran and Hadith highlight the profound power of patience during times of crisis. The Quran assures that patience in adversity is rewarded by Allah . Prophet Muhammad underscores the virtues of self-reliance and patience, resilience, and self-sufficiency, which are crucial for navigating and overcoming crises. The Quran and Sunnah urge us to be patient during times of crisis. Every time that Allah tests us is an opportunity for us to prove ourselves as persevering and patient believers. 

How We Can Be Patient During Crisis:

• By practicing deep breathing exercises to calm the mind and reduce anxiety.
• By engaging in mindfulness to stay present and focused.
• By recalling previous crises, we may have overcome them. Reflecting on past resilience can boost our confidence and patience in handling the current situation.

 – If You Are Grateful…

The Holy Quran says,

“And [remember] when your Lord proclaimed, ‘If you are grateful, I will surely increase you [in favor]; but if you deny, indeed, My punishment is severe.’ “” [Surah Ibrahim: 14;7]

Prophet Muhammad remarked, “How wonderful is the situation of the believer; for all his affairs are good. If something good happens, he gives thanks, and that is good for him; if something bad happens, he bears it with patience, and that is good for him. This applies to no one but the believer.” [Narrated by Muslim, 2999]

Gratitude journaling [PC: Gabrielle Henderson (unsplash)]

The Quran emphasizes that showing gratitude leads to an increase in blessings; as seen from the above ayah. Practicing gratitude, especially during a crisis, can help shift focus from what is lost to what is still present, fostering a more positive outlook. Gratitude is a form of dhikr (remembrance of Allah ), which brings tranquility to the heart. 

The Year of Sorrow is a profound example of how Prophet Muhammad showed immense gratitude to Allah during times of adversity. His patience, reliance on prayer, and continued commitment to his mission all serve as powerful lessons for Muslims on the importance of gratitude, even in the face of significant hardships.

Gratitude reinforces the believer’s trust in Allah’s Wisdom and Mercy. It reminds them that every situation, whether perceived as good or bad, is an opportunity for growth and reward. Gratitude has been shown to improve emotional health by reducing stress and increasing overall happiness. This can be particularly beneficial during a crisis, helping to manage anxiety and depression.

How We Can Cultivate Gratitude During Crisis:

• Daily Reflections: At night before sleeping we can make a habit to reflect on things to be grateful for, no matter how small. 
• Gratitude Journaling: We can maintain a journal to record moments of gratitude. This can serve as a reminder of Allah’s Blessings even during tough times.
• Positive Affirmations: We can use positive affirmations that focus on gratitude to reinforce a thankful mindset. Such as “Alhamdullilah! for the countless blessings in my life, I am grateful to Allah’s endless mercy and guidance.”

 – If Allah Helps You, None Can Overcome You

The Quran encourages believers to trust in Allah’s Plan, and have faith that He will provide a way out of every difficulty. “And whosoever fears Allah… He will make a way for him to get out (from every difficulty). And He will provide him from (sources) he never could imagine” [Surah At-Talq: 65;2-3). This teaches that trusting in Allah’s Wisdom can bring unexpected solutions and ease during crises.

The verse:

“If Allah helps you, none can overcome you; and if He forsakes you, who is there that can help you after Him? And upon Allah let the believers rely.” [Surah ‘Ali-‘Imran 3:160] reassures believers that Allah’s Support is paramount, and placing trust in Him ensures ultimate guidance and assistance.

The life of Prophet Muhammad exemplifies complete trust in Allah during challenging times. During the Hijrah (migration) to Medina, he reassured his companion Abu Bakr by saying, “Do not grieve; indeed Allah is with us” [Surah At-Tawbah: 9;40], demonstrating unwavering faith in Allah’s Protection.

Trusting in Allah’s Will can bring inner peace, reducing anxiety and stress. Believers find comfort in knowing that Allah is in control and His plan is always for their benefit. Trust in Allah helps believers develop resilience, allowing them to face hardships with strength and patience, confident that relief will follow difficulty. Crises can be opportunities for spiritual growth. By trusting in Allah , believers deepen their faith and connection with Him .

How We Can Strengthen Trust in Allah During Crisis:

• Reflect on Allah’s Names and Attributes: Contemplate the names and attributes of Allah , such as Al-Hakim (The Wise) and Ar-Rahman (The Merciful), to remind yourself of His Wisdom and Mercy.
• Seek Knowledge and Understanding: Read the stories of the prophets and righteous people to understand the importance of trust in Allah
• Positive Affirmations: Use positive affirmations that reinforce trust in Allah’s Plan, such as “Allah knows what is best for me” and “I trust Allah’s wisdom and timing.”

 – Rely Upon Allah

The Quran assures believers that seeking refuge in Allah brings assistance and relief:

“So by mercy from Allah, [O Muhammad], you were lenient with them. And if you had been rude [in speech] and harsh in heart, they would have disbanded from about you. So pardon them and ask forgiveness for them and consult them in the matter. And when you have decided, then rely upon Allah. Indeed, Allah loves those who rely [upon Him]And when you have decided, then rely upon Allah.” [Surah ‘Ali-‘Imran: 3;159]

Trusting in Allah’s Power and seeking His Refuge helps believers feel supported and guided through crises. 

Prophet Muhammad regularly sought refuge in Allah during times of distress. He often recited specific supplications to seek protection and relief. One such supplication is, “O Allah, I seek refuge in You from worry and grief, from incapacity and laziness, from cowardice and miserliness, from being heavily in debt and from being overpowered by men.” [Sahih Bukhari]

The Prophet taught that seeking refuge in Allah brings emotional and spiritual relief. In times of fear or anxiety, he would say, “I seek refuge in the perfect words of Allah from the evil of what He has created.” [Sahih Muslim] This demonstrates the practice of turning to Allah for comfort and protection.

Seeking refuge in Allah during crises, as emphasized in the Quran and Sunnah, is a powerful practice that brings peace, strength, and spiritual connection. By turning to Allah for protection and support, we can navigate through challenges with confidence and trust in His wisdom. This practice not only provides immediate emotional relief to us but also strengthens our faith and resilience for the future too.

How We Can Seek Refuge in Allah During Crises

• By regularly reciting verses and supplications that invoke Allah’s Protection and support. For example- Surah Al-Falaq [113] and Surah An-Nas [114].
• By engaging ourselves in regular dhikr to keep the heart and mind focused on Allah’s Power and Mercy. We can recite simple phrases like “SubhanAllah,” “Alhamdulillah,” and “Allahu Akbar”  frequently.
• By establishing regular prayers, especially in times of crises, to seek refuge in Allah’s Presence and to find peace. 

 – Verily, In the Remembrance of Allah Do Hearts Find Rest

The Quran emphasizes that the remembrance of Allah (Dhikr) brings tranquility and peace to the heart.

“Those who have believed and whose hearts are assured by the remembrance of Allah. Verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest.” [Surah Ar-Ra’d: 13;28]

This verse highlights the calming effect of dhikr, making it a powerful tool during times of crises. A grateful heart is more likely to experience inner peace, even amidst turmoil.

Regular remembrance of Allah helps one stay grounded [PC: Haci Elmas (unsplash)]

The Battle of Badr was one of the most significant battles in Islamic history, taking place in 624 CE. The Muslim army was vastly outnumbered by the Quraysh forces from Mecca. Before the battle, the Prophet Muhammad spent the night in prayer and supplication, seeking Allah’s Help and Guidance. He repeatedly invoked Allah’s Name, demonstrating his reliance on His Support in times of distress. On the day of the battle, the Prophet encouraged his companions to remain steadfast and engaged them in dhikr to bolster their courage and trust in Allah’s Support. He recited verses of the Quran and specific supplications to instill confidence and alleviate their fears. A Hadith narrated by Umar ibn Al-Khattab describes how the Prophet prayed earnestly and continuously, saying, “O Allah, if this group perishes today, You will not be worshiped.” [Sahih Muslim]

The Prophet recommended specific phrases for Dhikr, such as “SubhanAllah” (Glory be to Allah), “Alhamdulillah” (Praise be to Allah), and “Allahu Akbar” (Allah is the Greatest). He also advised reciting “La ilaha illallah” (There is no deity but Allah), which brings immense peace and comfort. [Sahih Muslim]

It was narrated by Abu Huraira , the Messenger of Allah said: “O Bilal, call iqamah for prayer, give us comfort by it.” [Sunan Abi Dawood 4985] This Hadith emphasizes the comfort and relief that the Prophet found in prayer, and it serves as a reminder of the importance of prayer in seeking peace and tranquility during times of stress or difficulty.

Regular engagement in dhikr helps alleviate stress, anxiety, and depression by fostering a sense of peace and grounding. Dhikr requires mindfulness and concentration, which can help clear the mind of intrusive thoughts and bring clarity. Dhikr strengthens the spiritual connection with Allah , reinforcing trust in His Wisdom and Mercy. This spiritual fortitude is crucial during crises.

How We Can Engage in Dhikr During Crises

• By incorporating dhikr into our daily routine, dedicating specific times for remembrance, such as after prayers or before sleep.
• By practicing positive affirmations and self-talk. By reminding ourselves that the crisis is temporary and that we have the strength and resources to overcome it.
• By engaging in dhikr with mindfulness, contemplating the meanings of the words, and feeling their impact on our hearts.

 – Do Not Lose Hope In the Mercy of Allah

The Quran emphasizes that hardship is always followed by ease, instilling hope in believers.

“For indeed, with hardship [will be] ease.

Indeed, with hardship [will be] ease” [Surah Ash-Sharh: 94;5-6]

This repetition underscores the certainty of relief following difficulty.

The Quran teaches us to remain optimistic during crises.

“O my sons, go and search for Yusuf and his brother, and do not lose hope in the mercy of Allah; indeed, none lose hope in the mercy of Allah except the disbelieving people.” [Surah Yusuf: 12;87] It also reminds us that “He makes [one] laugh and weep” (Surah Al-Najam: 53;43), reinforcing that every aspect of our lives is under His Control.

The Prophet advised maintaining hope and seeking Allah’s Help during difficult times. In a Hadith, he said, “Know that victory comes with patience, relief with affliction, and ease with hardship.” [Tirmidhi] This saying reinforces the concept that perseverance and hope are keys to overcoming adversity.

Hope during crises, as emphasized in the Quran and Sunnah, is a powerful tool that fosters emotional resilience, positive thinking, and spiritual growth. By maintaining hope and trust in Allah’s Wisdom and Mercy, we can navigate through hardships with confidence and patience, ultimately finding relief and ease.

How We Can Have Hope During Crises

• By regularly reading and reflecting on verses that emphasize Allah’s Mercy, the promise of ease after hardship (Surah Ash-Sharh: 94;5-6), and the importance of hope (Surah Yusuf: 12;87)
• By engaging in the remembrance of Allah and regular prayer to maintain a strong spiritual connection and to find solace.
• By surrounding ourselves with supportive family members and friends who can provide encouragement and remind us of the importance of hope.

 – Seek Professional Help 

Islam emphasizes the importance of seeking professional help when needed. While supplication and prayer are essential, there is no shame in seeking assistance from others. The Quran reminds us:

“Who has created death and life, that He may test you which of you is best in deed. And He is the All-Mighty, the Oft-Forgiving.” [Surah Al-Mulk: 67;2]

Thus, mental health issues, like other illnesses, are real illnesses, which Allah tests people with and treatment should be sought.

It is crucial to seek professional support from a qualified psychologist, social worker, or psychiatrist when needed. Our emotional well-being is a fundamental aspect of holistic health. It serves as the foundation for being physically, professionally, and personally functional, enabling us to achieve our goals. There is no shame in seeking professional help during a crisis, as it is an important step towards maintaining overall well-being. 

Conclusion

In a nutshell, the wisdom of the Quran and the teachings of the Sunnah offer profound insights into managing life’s emotional and psychological challenges. These sacred texts not only provide practical advice for coping with specific adversities but also frame our trials in a broader spiritual context that encourages resilience and growth. By adopting patience, maintaining gratitude, and trusting in Allah’s Plans, we can navigate the uncertainties of life with strength and grace. 

The Quran and Sunnah thus equip us with an “emotional first aid kit” that not only helps us heal from emotional wounds but also strengthens our spiritual well-being. Embracing these teachings allows us to transform our trials into triumphs, ensuring that we emerge from our crises with enhanced faith and renewed purpose. As we continue to face life’s inevitable challenges, let us draw upon these guidances to find peace, stability, and clarity, proving that with faith, no hardship is insurmountable.

 

Related:

– Cultivating Mental Well-Being in the Muslim Community [Part I]: Debunking Myths, Steps Toward Seeking Support

– Self-Evaluation In Light Of Faith: Overcoming Obstacles To Accountability And Planning

The post Emotional Self-Healing: Lessons From The Quran And Sunnah appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Perfect Storm of Nature’s Brutality and Human Error

The scorching heat of the Arabian summer has slain hundreds of pilgrims in the Hajj of 1445 A.H. The Saudi government put the toll of casualties at over thirteen hundred people killed over the pilgrimage, adding that most had been unauthorised to make the journey because of the extreme conditions.

Saudi stewardship of the Hajj has been controversial in the past, in part because of a number of stampedes and in part because of Riyadh’s questionable governing record. However, the government has often stressed the complications of organizing millions of pilgrims in a matter of days. Recent experimentations with Hajj registration and documentation have also been controversial.

However, there does not appear to have been much that the authorities could have done about nature: if the government press is to be believed, five sixths of the casualties had not been authorized to travel in the stifling heat. ““Regrettably,” the Saudi Press Agency said, “the number of mortalities reached 1,301, with 83% being unauthorised to perform Hajj and having walked long distances under direct sunlight, without adequate shelter or comfort.”

Tourism Companies Stripped of Licenses

Some Saudi media were quick to point out the large number of unregistered victims, a longstanding concern for the pilgrimage’s administration. Cairo’s prime minister Mostafa Madbouly, whose citizens comprised a large number of unregistered pilgrims, stripped several tourism companies of their license over the issue.

Saudi health minister Fahad Jalajil claimed that the government had tried to raise awareness about the heat’s dangers and offered over a million medical services, adding, “May Allah forgive and have mercy on the deceased. Our heartfelt condolences go to their families.”

Eyewitnesses confirmed that Saudi police had tried to ameliorate the risk of dehydration by passing out water and spraying pilgrims with water, but some scientists claimed that this effort had limited utility in such stifling heat, which reached as high as 50 degrees Celsius.

German scientific advisor Carl-Friedrich Schleusser and Pakistani scientist Fahad Saeed co-authored a 2021 study warning that, if current global heating patterns continue, the risk of heat stroke to pilgrims on Hajj could rise fivefold. The major issue of climate change is one beyond any single government’s remit, but for the pilgrimage it is one with which the Saudi government, with their professed custodianship of the sanctuaries, will have to grapple.

Related:

Reflections On Hajj I Sh. Furhan Zubairi

A Less Than Perfect Hajj: Hajj Reflections

The post Thirteen Hundred Pilgrims Succumb To Heat In Grueling Hajj Pilgrimage appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Imam Mahad Qamar and Ustadha Safiyah Ravat are the ultimate Muslim power couple, mashaAllah – a married couple who formally studied Arabic & Islamic studies, graduating from the International Islamic University of Malaysia, and going on to establish Suhbah Institute in Houston, Texas.

Join us on this episode to learn all about how they embarked on this epic journey of marriage and da’wah together, their work in marriage counseling and college chaplaincy, & striking a healthy work-life-da’wah balance as a family.

Mahad Qamar and Safiya Ravat are an American couple from Houston, Texas – of Pakistani (Mahad) and South African (Safiya) heritage. 

Mahad and Safiya began their Islamic Studies journey in 2008 under Shaykh Isam Rajab at Arees Institute, and continued on to attend the Bayyinah Dream Arabic Program. They then pursued their Bachelor’s degrees in Islamic Fiqh and Usul al Fiqh (Islamic Law and Jurisprudence) from the International Islamic University of Malaysia and finally completed their Master’s in Pastoral Counseling in Marriage and Family Therapy. Safiya also holds a degree in Journalism from the University of Houston. Mahad and Safiya are currently the lead instructors at the Suhbah Seminary, pre marital training facilitators for Suhbah’s Strong Couples program, and will serve as the inaugural Chaplains at the University of Houston’s Muslim Students Association.

Related:

[Podcast] Happily Ever After (Ep. 1) | How to Find Your Match Made In Jannah

MANA Conference: The Healthy Marriage Community Covenant

The post Podcast: Meet the Ultimate Muslim Power Couple | Imam Mahad & Ustadha Safiya appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Eid hasn’t felt like Eid of late. I’ve worn my best clothes, put on my best fragrance, recited my takbīrāt, sent a wave of messages, connected with family and friends – but my heart has been weighed by a continuous sense of overwhelming grief as this scripted play of celebration takes place against a backdrop of genocide. Here, we embrace one another in the joy of celebration; there, they embrace one another to seek any morsel of relief from the anguish of continuous loss at the hands of merciless slaughter. Here, we gather with loved ones over food and drink; there, they gather around trucks that should be transporting the little food they have only to find it to be a Trojan horse carrying their murderers. What is Eid to a bystander of mass murder, a powerless onlooker made to watch the endless massacres of his own brothers?

What is Eid but a reminder of my own uselessness? What is happiness but a burden to a heart heavy with the grief of helplessness?

It is in these moments that the eye wanders over to the embellished covers of a small book tucked away in a corner of the topmost shelf of a bookshelf. When the world stops making sense; when the grief begins to overwhelm; when the irreconcilable contradictions inherent in our very being are no longer avoidable; when we can no longer procrastinate from pondering over the incoherence of our existence; that is when our hearts, then our eyes, then our hands reach out to the Quran. O, light emanating from the uncreated speech of God! Come, illuminate the darkness that creeps ever closer to the edges of our souls.

As I contemplate this mix of joy and grief, my mind has been continuously pondering over the story of Ibrahim , but particularly his duʿā in the surah named after him. How strange that this is where I find myself – mixed with joy and grief – when that is exactly where Ibrahim found himself so many millennia ago. This a story that brings hope to the hopeless, power to the powerless, and purpose to the purposeless. This is the story of Ibrahim, Ismāʿīl, and Hājar .

The Story

There are three principal characters in this story: Ibrahim , Ismāʿīl , and Hājar . Each plays a distinct and important role in the final outcome, each is the main character in the act particular to them, and each confronts a kind of grief that is particular to them in order to fulfill their purpose.

The story itself is a perplexing one, something entirely unintelligible to a secular ethos. Ibrahim and his wife Sarah were childless for decades until he was given the gift of a child in his old age with Hājar . Upon his miraculous fatherhood, Ibrahim was ordered by Allah to leave his son and his mother in the middle of the desert; the land he himself describes in the Quran as “a valley devoid of vegetation.” While the tafsīr tradition is rife with spurious details about the story, the Quran itself offers very little except for a single passage in Surat Ibrahim 35 – 41. Almost all the details in the story are entirely unnecessary to the moral instruction inherent in it, and many of them cast the kind of aspersions on a prophet and his pious wife that are characteristic of other religions that have little respect for their divinely guided figures and are entirely alien to the reverence for prophets and their righteous followers that is necessitated by Islam. What is known is that Ibrahim fathered Ismāʿīl with Hājar and was commanded to leave them in the valley of Makkah.

According to traditions, as he leaves Hājar in a completely empty desert valley, she calls out to and questions him. He is silent until she asks him, “Has Allah ordered you to do this?” When he responds in the affirmative, she replies to him saying, “Then Allah will not abandon us.”

Both Ibrahim and Hājar are certain that Allah will not abandon them, but each is also animated by a grief that is particular to them.

Abandoned in the desert [PC: Josh Gordon (unsplash)]

Here is Hājar , a noblewoman given as a servant to Ibrahim and Sarah , who leaves her native Egypt only to be abandoned in a desert with her son at the command of a god she can neither see nor hear. Her absolute certainty in Allah , however, is not decoupled from desperation for her son. This fear is manifested in her famous running between the hills of al-Ṣafā and al-Marwah looking for nourishment until the well of Zam-Zam bursts forth from under the feet of her son.

And here is Ibrahim , who has suffered countless times following the command of his close Friend to proclaim the message of His divine Oneness: thrown to the fire by his own family, exiled by his people, wandering the earth childless and without a home – until he at long last miraculously sires a son at his old age only to be told to abandon that son and his mother in a desert valley. As he leaves his family in such a terrible state, he knows that his Divine Friend is his only vessel for his grief; that the only refuge from Allah is to Him.

The Duʿā

While the duʿā is long and with significant consequence, I want to focus on two ayahs specifically. In ayah thirty-seven, Ibrahim says the following:

“Our Lord! I have settled some of my offspring in a barren valley, near Your Sacred House, our Lord, so that they may establish prayer. So make the hearts of ˹believing˺ people incline towards them and provide them with fruits, so perhaps they will be thankful.”

There is rhyme and reason behind the commands of Allah – they are not pointless instructions without wisdom. Ibrahim knows that the wisdom behind His command is to build the Kaʿbah and establish Makkah as a center of worship – that the physical water which flows from beneath the feet of Ismāʿīl will turn to spiritual waters and flood the world in iman. Ibrahim knows that he stands at the head of a story of Islam, and it is that understanding that gives him comfort when he is asked to abandon his family in a lifeless desert. His role is to relinquish; Hājar’s role is to nourish; his son’s role is to establish.

But understanding the wisdom behind a command does not mean a heart is not grieved. He, alayhi al-salām, still has a human heart that beats inside his human chest. And so, before continuing with his duʿā, he turns his grief to Allah :

“Our Lord! You certainly know what we conceal (from grief) and what we reveal. And nothing on earth or in heaven is hidden from Allah.” [Surah Ibrahim: 14;38]

Imam al-Ṭabarī states that the first statement is that of Ibrahim , and that the second statement is Allah’s response to His Friend. Ibrahim , overcome by the grief of separation from the son he wished so long for only to sacrifice him for a greater purpose, calls out in grief to Allah . And his Lord, his Master, his Divine Friend answers him, telling him that no grief is hidden from Allah .

In this way, Ibrahim is one in a long tradition of prophets turning their grief to Allah . His grandson, Yaʿqūb calls out to Allah similarly when he says, “I complain of my anguish and sorrow only to Allah, and I know from Allah what you do not know.” [Surah Yusuf: 12;86]. And Allah  responds to him by returning his Yusuf to him. Yūnus calls out to his Lord and Master, proclaiming, “There is no god ˹worthy of worship˺ except You. Glory be to You! I have certainly done wrong.” [Surah Al-Anbiya: 21;87]. And Allah responds to his immense grief: “So We answered his prayer and rescued him from anguish. And so do We save the ˹true˺ believers.” [Surah Yusuf: 12;88]

And when the final Messenger of Allah, the Rasūl sits beneath a tree outside Ṭāʿif and calls out to Allah : “O Allah! I complain to you of my weakness, the deficiency of my resources, and my humiliation before people!” And Allah responded to him by calling him past the seven heavens into his direct presence.

So, too, did Allah respond to Ibrahim . His response was the establishment of Makkah al-Mukarramah and the birth of the final prophet from the progeny of his sacrificed son. His response was the story of Islam, which includes you and me.

The Sacrifice of Palestinians Will Not Go Unheeded

One of the most powerful motifs in this story is that of mere presence as sacrifice for the sake of Allah . Both Ibrahim and Ismāʿīl sacrifice life as father and son in order to establish Makkah as the epicenter of spirituality on earth. The mere presence of the son is sacrifice. Ismāʿīl sacrifices the comforts of the Levant, a life lived with his father, and the safety of civilization in exchange for establishing and maintaining a sacred sanctuary. His sacrifice establishes his place in the story of Islam.

So, too, is the mere unrelenting presence of the Palestinian people a sacrifice to maintain the sanctity of the sanctuary of al-Aqṣā. Under occupation by a regime with designs on the land, on the people, on the ḥaram itself, the valiant sentries born in the land of prophets and saints give their very breath and blood to protect sanctified land, the first qiblah, the site of the isrāʾ and miʿrāj. And for the crime of that mere presence, they are slaughtered mercilessly and treated with utter indignity.

But like Ibrahim, Yaʿqūb, and Yūnus before them – like the Messenger of Allah – they turn their grief, their anguish, their suffering to the One Who sees all, knows all, and has power over all. They know that they are in obedience to His divine Command to protect the sanctuary; and so, like Ismāʿīl before them, they know that the water that wells up below their feet will turn into a flood of Divine Truth that engulfs the world. They know, as Hājar knew before them, that if Allah has commanded them, then He will not abandon them. The Lord of the ḥaram of al-Aqṣā will not abandon its people, and their sacrifice will become part of the story of Islam.

What Is Our Place in the Story of Islam?

While we take some solace in the knowledge that Allah will not allow the sacrifice of the people of al-Aqṣā to go in vain, their story must force us to question ourselves. We have blamed the murderous regime that perpetrates their genocide; we have blamed the allies of that regime for facilitating the brutality of slaughter and occupation; we have blamed the collaborators amongst Muslim leaders around the world for failing to act in defense of our brothers. But how often have we blamed ourselves?

Where is our place in the story of Islam? [Etienne Girardet (unsplash)]

The truth is that we have all collectively failed the people of Palestine, just like we have failed the people of Sudan, Syria, Kashmir, the Uyghurs, the Rohingya – and the list goes on. We did not fail them in 2023, or even 2003. We have failed them for generations, and that failure is only now being manifested in the grossest way possible. We failed them because we have traded cheap comforts for civilizational purposes. We failed them because we abandoned the project of rebuilding Islamic civilization. We failed them because we stopped believing in the story of Islam.

We have forgotten that we are born a people with a divine mission on this earth. Other people can think that they are born on this earth to experience its pleasures and joys and to expire as painlessly as possible, but we are born the heirs of Ibrahim and Ismāʿīl as the best community brought about for humanity:

“You are the best community ever raised for humanity—you encourage good, forbid evil, and believe in Allah. If only the People of the Scripture had believed, it would have been better for them. Among them are believers, but most of them are defiantly disobedient.” [Surah ‘Ali-Imran: 3;110]

Just like Ismāʿīl before us, we are born with a God-given purpose to establish the sanctuary of Islam in a profane world, to uphold the banner of lā Ilāha illā Allah in a world where all others uphold the banner of their own desires as their gods. This is not done by simply praying and fasting on our own. It is a civilizational project, one which requires the collective effort of an entire ummah to be pointed spear-like at its objective.

Instead, we have traded our civilizational purpose for the capitalist dream: a car, a house, a small family, and vacations in the summer. We build nothing. We create nothing. We aspire to nothing. We are prepared to sacrifice nothing. And, yet, we are surprised when we achieve nothing and are treated like we are nothing.

What is our role in the story of Islam? This story requires characters who will build its economic, artistic, educational, spiritual, intellectual, and political foundations. What part of its foundation are we going to be a part of building? Are we ready to sacrifice what is necessary to revive an entire civilization? Or are we going to simply be those who complain incessantly but do little and sacrifice less? Because, in the end, this story belongs to Allah . And if we refuse to play our part in it, He will simply replace us with those who don’t turn away so easily:

“Here you are – those invited to spend in the cause of Allah – but among you are those who withhold [out of greed]. And whoever withholds only withholds [benefit] from himself; and Allah is the Free of need, while you are the needy. And if you turn away, He will replace you with another people; then they will not be the likes of you.” [Surah Muhammad: 47;38]

 

Related:

– Optimism in Times of Adversity: How The Prophet Did It

– Think Like Ibrahim | The Essence of Surah Baqarah | Shaykh Akram Nadwi

 

The post What Is Your Role In The Story Of Islam? : On Hajj, Eid, And Surat Ibrahim appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

My friends and I joke about our “inner 9/11 voice”. Twenty-three years later it’s still hardwired into our subconscious, fattened with the fear of arbitrary arrests under the Patriot Act – the irony of the acronym was not lost on us, an act named after the very thing we were accused of lacking. It’s a survival mechanism: don’t say that on the phone! Don’t search that up! Make sure you get to the airport 3 hours early; you’re going to be randomly selected.  

It’s not out of nothing the voice lingers. The events and discriminations we faced as Western Muslims are archived in our brains, a chronological snapshot of flashbulb memories. The look on my teacher’s face, the urgency as we were shuttled home. The grim line of my mother’s mouth and the terror in her eyes. George W. Bush’s declaration of Operation ‘Iraqi Freedom’ and the impotent rage in the clenched fists and veins bulging in my father’s forearms.

Are We Not Human Enough?

One memory in particular still haunts me. In 2004, I was 15 years old in grade 10, and learning to live in a post-9/11 Western country as a young Muslim woman in hijab. I had three years of discrimination and Islamophobia under my belt and a litany of horror stories across North America to keep me wary and constantly alert. 

I remember walking into a convenience store one morning and picking up a newspaper. I can still feel the sheer horror and shock that washed over me at the sight of naked men piled atop each other in a sadistic pile of limbs and hoods. It took a couple of minutes for my brain to untangle the image and comprehend I was looking at the contorted bodies of men. Men cowering in front of dogs, men sodomized. I remember looking back and forth between their brown skin and black hair and the starkly contrasting white faces stretched in broad, toothy smiles. I remember one clear thought as I looked into the pixelated eyes of the soldiers: are we not human enough?

Those men could have been my father, uncles, or brothers. Despite being a fairly light-skinned Syrian, their dark skin was strong arms and safety, invoking the troth of blood and kinship. My legs felt numb, my mind went blank, and my ears rang with shock. I went to school that day in a daze. Why weren’t people screaming about this depraved rape and abuse? How were the faces around me smiling and not twisted in fright and repulsion at the sadistic smiles and cocky thumbs-ups? 

That flashbulb memory comes to me often, Abu Ghraib 2004. I believe we lost any remnants of hope and trust when news of Abu Ghraib broke. The tattered shreds of ‘we belong’s and ‘it will get better’s we were clinging to shed silently, leaving us more vulnerable than ever. It was confirmation of the worst kind: the dehumanization of our brown skin and our faith didn’t just make us a perceived threat or a demeaning and time-consuming ‘randomly selected’ at the airport. 

It made us subhuman, not worthy of dignity or decency. It was the humiliation of our men and our honor, screamed silently into a deaf world. Are we not human enough?

Sde Teiman

20 years later, we watched in horror as men and boys were stripped to their underwear and crammed into the open back of a military truck. Brown skin and blindfolds. In the back of our minds, brains programmed by Western powers and their unholy War of Terror, that voice was screaming shrilly: executions or a horrific fate worse than death. 

Isn’t it strange how neural pathways of primal fear, pathways we were taught and worked so hard to break, were reignited like wildfire by that one image? Are we not human enough?

Twenty years later we’re reading the sadistic, sodomized details of Sde Teiman and it is Abu Ghraib all over again. We’re retraumatized, forcibly reminded that despite the passage of time and so-called advances in diversity and equality, our skin and creed continue to make us subhuman. 

Twenty years ago, the photo of a man in a black hood and cape, strung up like a Christmas tree was plastered on front pages setting the tone for what was to come. The headlines were 2004’s idea of a trigger warning: torture, humiliation, sodomy all laid out clear as day. 

Today’s coverage broke softly, with all the force of a warm summer breeze. 

Today Patrick Kingsley of the New York Times writes about Sde Teiman following a rare visit. He buries the lead and prioritizes reporting on his observations, a detailed and tedious description of a farce he must have known was staged for his visit. He then meanders through the story, dropping a progressively more sinister fact every 500 words or so. Like Hansel and Gretel and their trail of breadcrumbs, he surreptitiously treads a fragile path, as though fearing it will crack and break beneath him if he says too much too fast.

It took Kingsley 3317 words before the sodomy of an innocent man using what is described as an electrified metal rod was mentioned. More than three-quarters of the way into his article (87% to be exact; I calculated it) when his readers had probably dwindled to the dedicated few who felt compelled to bear witness. 

This undated photo taken in the winter 2023 and provided by Breaking the Silence, a whistleblower group of former Israeli soldiers, shows blindfolded Palestinians captured in the Gaza Strip in a detention facility on the Sde Teiman military base in southern Israel. (Breaking The Silence via AP)

Meanwhile, Julie Frankel for the Associated Press disingenuously refers to Sde Teiman as a “shadowy hospital.” She begins her article by referencing “patients…surgeries…doctors” as though the sole purpose of this place is to treat the wounded, framing this as some act of mercy and kindness on the part of the Israelis. She even goes as far as stating this was the primary purpose of this former military barracks, a complete fabrication. Sde Teiman has field hospitals, and doctors tasked with putting together bodies broken by torture. Its primary purpose, however, is the illegal detention or, more accurately, kidnapping of Palestinian men and youth and their subsequent torture and criminal interrogation. She underhandedly undermines the testimonies of tortured innocent civilians and horrific eyewitness testimonies by writing them off as merely “critics allege.” 

Frankel barely refers to these facts, which are based on whistleblowers, CNN reports, firsthand testimonies, eyewitness statements, and the anonymous confessions of Israeli soldiers and doctors. Instead, she disproportionately favors the Israeli narrative and voice. In fact, she leaves off reporting the Israeli military’s murder of innocent Palestinians until the very end of the article. Her only inclusion of a Palestinian voice comes right after that, burying the extent of torture and the Palestinian perspective underneath the disproportionate Israeli references, justifications, and her whitewashing of these crimes.

Although the structure of Kingsley’s article and the surface-level reporting of Frankel’s irked me the most, I was also disappointed by the decontextualization evident in their articles. Reading this as an account of a ‘detention center’ and the men simply ‘detainees,’ only added insult to injury. The unequivocal truth is holding someone innocent, without charge, legal representation or their family’s knowledge of their whereabouts renders them kidnapped or, at best, hostages. One cannot even use the term “hostage” as Israel wants nothing in return for their release, they merely want to torture, interrogate, and obtain confessions under duress. Adding torture and sexual abuse makes this a torture center reminiscent of Abu Ghraib. Both facts are supported by extensive international humanitarian laws that criminalize torture, secretive arbitrary imprisonment, holding people incommunicado, and inhumane prison conditions. 

Yet none of these caveats and dictates of International Humanitarian law are mentioned in these articles. Kingsley merely alludes to it with a simple “some legal experts say is a contravention of international law” as though this were up for debate and not readily available on the United Nations website and in their reports. 

Neither do they mention how pervasive the torture and illegal imprisonment against innocent Palestinians is across Israel. Both reporters fail to address how systemic these conditions and testimonies are; Israel has a long and sordid past when it comes to the grotesque and inhumane treatment of Palestinians they kidnapped and held. They also go to great lengths to ensure families and lawyers of the kidnapped do not know where they are and have no means of contact with them. Sda Teiman is merely a continuation of this horrific system intent on crippling, torturing and humiliating innocent Palestinians. 

Half-Truth Coverage

Now, I am well aware of leaked internal memos ‘guiding’ journalists on the correct terminology for referring to Palestine, where to start history, and Palestinians displacement and current genocide. However, while that may explain some literary choices, it does not absolve reporters of this half-truth coverage. As journalists and ones tasked with the monumental responsibility of exposing war crimes in the foul and degenerate torture center of Sde Teiman, there is an ethical and moral obligation to apply the best practices of investigative journalism. 

For instance, as is expected in investigative journalism, reporting should counter the statements and claims of Israeli officials, rather than quoting them verbatim. For instance, when the Israeli military denies systematic abuse and claims it may have been invented under pressure from Hamas, it would be relevant to include some of the relevant statistics, such as how many children and innocent women are illegally imprisoned, the extent of sexual abuse and humiliation, the methods of torture, and the Israeli military court’s failure to prosecute any of the soldiers involved. 

Reporting should also humanize these men. Who are they? What family was waiting for them, believing them dead? What stories of horror, fear, and humiliation do they carry, scars on their bodies and minds? Kingsley references the men’s feelings twice, once regarding how long the imprisonment felt and once how a hot metal rod inserted in his rectum felt, and Frankel, not at all. I believe these men, being the complex human beings they are, felt much more than that. 

I stress these points intentionally. Sde Teiman has shown us the world has not learned from the heinous crimes of Guantanamo Bay or Abu Ghraib. In 2003, George W. Bush looked dead at the camera and said: “the people you liberate will witness the honorable and decent spirit of the American military.” Today Israel is no different, claiming to have the most moral army in the world. 

If Bush taught us anything, it’s that even though talk is cheap, it exacts a heavy price from those it demonizes. 

In 2004, when I was 15, I choked on the bile in my throat as proud, strong men were humiliated, tortured, and broken in both body and spirit. 

It’s 2024, and Sde Teiman shows we haven’t learned to care that underneath brown skin, bones break and flesh splits just the same as white skin. Nor have we learned that minds that worship Allah recoil in horror and humiliation at sexual abuse just the same as minds that worship any other God. 

Perhaps the humanization of these men will grant people the ability to see that. 

Perhaps this will help end this cruelty and prevent the next shameful Abu Ghraib or Sde Teiman. 

Perhaps then, my 11-year-old Palestinian son won’t be putting pen to paper in twenty years, choking back the bile in his throat at the dehumanization and demonization of his skin.  

 

Related:

– Podcast: Lost & Found At Guantanamo Bay With Mansoor Adayfi

– Uyghurs In East Turkestan Face Forced Starvation

 

 

The post The Retraumitization Of A people: Nearly 20 years After Abu Ghraib Made Headlines, Sde Teiman Is Exposed appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

This is part 1 of a two-part short story.

Pakistan Versus Germany

The kids were finally asleep, and Murid settled onto the lumpy cushions of their old sofa to watch the Pakistan versus Germany match. These moments of peace, these small pleasures, helped him stay sane.

Next week would be Junaid’s fourteenth birthday. Murid always found himself depressed on his son’s birthday, as it prompted comparisons to the boy’s peers, and reminders of all the things the child would never do, at any age.

The teams were running out onto the field. Pakistan was fielding a strong team this year, but Murid was not hopeful.

Football. That was something his son Junaid would never do. Oh, sure, he could kick a ball randomly, but an organized match? He would never experience the joy of dribbling the ball past an opponent and driving it into the goal.

Junaid was severely autistic. The boy had never spoken and would never speak. He did like to sing – a sort of formless moaning and humming without melody or beat – but language was not within his capability. Drawing interested in him as well, but they were scribbles. He could not dress himself, though he could take his socks off and liked to do so often, as he didn’t seem to enjoy the sensation of material on his feet. It was a bit maddening at times, especially when Murid would be trying to get the boy dressed to go to his special school, and every time he turned around Junaid would pull his socks off.

Junaid could not make a sandwich or get himself a glass of milk from the fridge, though he could hold a spoon or fork and feed himself at mealtimes. He could not recite the Quran or repeat a dhikr. He could not properly do a salat, though at times he liked to mimic his father’s movements of ruku’ or sujood in his own playful way, just as a toddler might do.

The Call to Hajj

Murid desperately wanted to go to Hajj. He was nearing forty years old and had never been able to afford the trip. Now, with the costs associated with Junaid’s healthcare, it seemed impossible. But lately Junaid had been feeling like he was in a deep hole, looking up at a shrinking circle of light.

The cost of living was rising like a hot air balloon. Murid was a land surveyor for the California transportation agency. It was a decent job, but San Diego was an expensive city, and Murid’s salary was not keeping up with spiraling inflation. Every month he found himself poring over the bills, asking himself what costs he could cut. The worry was a pressure in his head that kept growing.

At times, he was overcome by an intense desire to have someone hug him and say, “It’s alright, you’re on a good path, you’ll be okay, and so will your kids.” The feeling was so strong that Murid would pause, even walking down the hallway at work, and once in the middle of a casual after work football match, and wait for the sensation to pass.

He wasn’t a fool; he knew that going to Hajj would not magically solve his problems. But to be at Hajj, on the plain of Arafah, beneath the broiling sun, in ihram, and to plead his case to Allah in that place – it felt momentous. It would change him, though he could not say how.

Always a Child

Murid was not ashamed of his son. He loved him with all his heart. Junaid was happy, for the most part. He liked to hug his father and sit in his lap. He enjoyed watching cartoons, stacking random things on the floor – tomato sauce cans, or toilet paper rolls – and loved it when his younger sister Mina read to him, even if he could not understand the words.

But yes, at times Murid was sad for him. At this age the boy should be preparing to enter adulthood. Any other boy would now be ready to step out of the back row at the masjid, and up to the front row with the men. But Junaid, no matter how his body grew, would always be a child. He would never drive a car, go to university, or marry and have children of his own.

Tomorrow was Jumu’ah, and after work Murid would take the kids to their grandparent’s home for a party. His father would hound him with the usual useless and unkind comments – “You need to stop coddling the boy so he can grow up properly. Take him out of that special school and put him in a normal school. He needs tough love.”

On the TV, Pakistan were pressing Germany, pushing toward the goal, passing the ball flawlessly. Murid exclaimed, “Yes!” and reached for the bag of potato chips on the coffee table.

It’s Too Much

His wife – or ex-wife, since he had filed a divorce in absentia – had enjoyed football as well. He often wondered where she was. In fact “wondered” was an understatement. He imagined feverishly, raged, castigated wordlessly, made dua’, and played and replayed scenarios in his mind.

She had left when Mina was three years old. Mina had not yet spoken a word at that time, and the doctors thought that she too might be autistic. One day Murid had awakened to find his wife vanished, with only a note: “It’s too much, I can’t handle it. I need to find myself. I am sorry.”

She’d never returned, and no one knew where she had gone, not even her parents, or so they claimed.

Murid wondered, had the woman changed her name and become a waitress in some greasy spoon in the middle of nowhere? Had she fallen into degeneracy, giving up Islam, becoming addicted to meth and earning her living as a stripper in a roughneck roadhouse just past the county line? Had she married a rich man, and was now basking in the sun on the deck of a villa on the Adriatic Sea? Or had she gone randomly traveling and been murdered by some flyover state serial killer with the bones of fifty women buried in a cow field?

Potato Chips

“Baba, you know you’re not supposed to eat chips.”

Startled, Murid glanced up at Mina standing on the staircase. A skinny ten year old, she wore pajamas with kittens on them, and her curly hair was flat on one side.

“The salt,” Mina continued, “isn’t good for your blood pressure. The doctor told you so.”

Murid shrugged guiltily. “I read about a study that casts doubt on the link between potato chips and hypertension.”

Mina rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Who funded the study, the national association of potato farmers? Are you trying to say that a bag of chips is the same as a bowl of steamed broccoli, or a nice salad?”

“No, but it sure tastes better.”

“Baba… We need you to be healthy. You know that.”

Murid felt a flash of irritation accompanied by a wave of guilt that nearly knocked him off the sofa. He understood exactly what Mina was saying: Junaid needs you to be healthy. Mina was reminding him that there was no one else in this world who could care for Junaid. That she, Mina, would do it herself but she was too young. That if anything happened to Murid it would devastate the lives of the two people in the world he loved most. He felt ashamed that Mina should have to worry about such things, but what could he do?

Anyone In Mind?

“Fiiine,” he said, clipping the chips bag closed and tossing it onto the coffee table. “No more chips. But we don’t have anything else to eat. I’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

“My friend, you need a wife.”

Murid knew he should be stern with his daughter for addressing him so informally, but instead he turned his face away so she would not see his smile.

“That’s a bit misogynist, isn’t it? Implying that shopping is a woman’s job. Anyway, do you have anyone in mind?”

“Not Juliana.”

Ah, Murid thought. That’s another thing worrying her. “I know, honey bear. She’s just Junaid’s part-time caretaker. And she’s not Muslim. I don’t think about her that way.”

“Okay… Well if you’re waiting for Mom to come back, better not hold your breath.”

Murid frowned. “That’s a low blow. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Sorry. But you can’t stay stuck in the past.”

Murid sighed. Mina was a little too perceptive sometimes. When you combined that with a lack of a filter – the kid just said whatever she thought – it was like living with an Austrian drill instructor / therapist.

“Why are you awake anyway?”

“The TV woke me up.”

Murid promised to turn the volume down, and Mina went back to bed.

The Irony

This was the irony, that Mina had turned out to be a brilliant child. When she finally began to speak it was in full sentences. She was reading her father’s newspaper while other children her age still struggled with Dr. Seuss. She memorized the Quran rapidly and easily, carried out hobby-kit science projects for fun, and taught herself to play the violin. If only her mother had been patient enough.

On the other hand, any mother who would abandon her children was not someone who should be in their lives anyway.

Certainly being the father of such a gifted child was a source of great joy, and a relief as well. It went a long way toward tempering Murid’s sadness over Junaid. That was not to say that he did not love and cherish Junaid. He loved both children equally, no matter what. Nevertheless, Mina made the burden easier to bear. At the very least, Murid knew that one day, when he was gone, Junaid would have someone to watch over him. That was a tremendous comfort.

He fell asleep during the match. He woke in the middle of the night to the sound of breaking glass outside, and someone screaming. That was not unusual in this neighborhood. He had often wished he could move the family to a safer, cleaner area, but this clapboard rat’s nest was all he could afford.

The match was over. An infomercial for a cat-safe fan droned on the TV. Wiping the drool from his chin, he looked up the results of the game on his phone. Pakistan had won 2 to 1. Happy that his team won, but annoyed that he missed it, he stumbled up the stairs and went to bed.

Just before falling asleep he made a dua:

O Allah, allow me to go to Hajj. Open a way for me to visit Your sacred house, Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem. Guide me, show me the way forward. Protect my children, no matter what. O Allah protect my daughter and my son. Whatever you wish to do to me, O Allah, do it; but keep Mina and Junaid safe.

Part 2 will be published next week inshaAllah

Reader comments and constructive criticism are important to me, so please comment!

See the Story Index for Wael Abdelgawad’s other stories on this website.

Wael Abdelgawad’s novels – including Pieces of a Dream, The Repeaters and Zaid Karim Private Investigator – are available in ebook and print form on his author page at Amazon.com.

Related:

No, My Son | A Short Story

A Hassan’s Tale Story: No Strings On Me

 

The post The Things He Would Say, Part 1 appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

This year marks 10 years since I went to Hajj, Alhamdulillah. In the past decade, I have thought about writing about my experience many times but something always stopped me from doing so. This year, I am sharing my experience in the hopes that it is beneficial for people who may be in a similar situation.

The year was 2014 and I had no idea what my life held for me. I was about to turn 27, single, raising Spark (my pet turtle) and working as an Office Administrator at a small company where I was fairly well liked. In many ways, I had everything one needs to be content. However, I wasn’t content; in fact, I was quietly depressed. In my culture I was reaching the age of “expiry” for marriage and that weighed on me heavily. My self worth was non-existent and every small mistake at work made me hysterical. 

It was during this time that my brother informed our family that he will be going to Hajj with his wife, in sha Allah. I was extremely happy for them. I was going to give him my list of duas so he would remember them on the day of Arafah. I would be helping my parents watch their daughter whom they were going to leave behind. I was excited to bond with my niece over our love for Spark. 

A couple of days later, as I was talking to my sister about nothing and everything, as sisters often do,  the following conversation ensued: 

Sister: Hey, so I’m thinking that maybe I will go for Hajj too. Do you want to come? 

Me: What? How? With who? 

Sister: With Bhaiya and Bhabhi. He is our Mehram. I don’t have a full time job and you can take time off. 

Me: Oh. Hmmm, I didn’t think of it. But yeah, I guess we can. We gotta ask Ammi and Abbu.

Sister: They won’t say no. We just have to make sure Bhaiya is okay with it. 

Me: Yeah. You have money? 

Sister: Yeah, I have some saved up. You? 

Me: Yeah, I think so. I should be able to manage, inshaAllah. 

I don’t remember if we talked to our parents the same night or if it was the next morning, but the result was as expected. They were overjoyed that we wanted to go and said they would talk to our brother on our behalf. My brother and sister-in-law, may Allah bless them both, said yes without hesitation. 

Just like that, I was now preparing to go to Hajj! The list of duas that I’d put together for my brother would now travel with me. I would get to ask Allah, at Arafah, for those things myself. 

Allah had chosen me, as a single woman, to go to Hajj. Not only that, He enabled me to cover my own expenses without relying on anyone else. Truly, Allah is Al-Lateef. When I thought I was going to end up in the pits of depression, He pulled me out by giving me this opportunity. 

The next few months were filled with preparation. I watched lectures on YouTube, talked to family and friends who had been to Hajj, attended workshops, and took courses. I was nervous, excited, scared, humbled and everything in between. 

The Pre-Hajj Test of Faith

I was also sad, because I had to give up my pet turtle. My parents wouldn’t be able to take care of him and my niece. Plus, he was getting too big for the tank I had. With all my resources going towards Hajj, I didn’t have much left to upgrade his space. I decided to find another home for it. I knew that Allah would provide for him like He did for all of us. 

Amidst all the excitement, the company I worked for got bought out. My position was removed and even though I was assigned another role, it was not what I wanted, so I left in June. In July came the news of attacks on Gaza, in Palestine. My heart was broken. I was so disturbed that I could not sleep most nights. I cried and made dua for our brothers and sisters in Palestine. I wanted to do more so I started looking for rallies to attend and petitions to sign. 

The only problem was, my Hajj visa hadn’t been approved yet. Despite everything that Allah had made easy, my faith wavered when I was about to sign petitions. “What if someone sees my support for Palestine and rejects my visa?” I wondered. “Then I won’t be able to go for Hajj!” Even though the thought only lasted for a second, I had forgotten for that second how Merciful and Powerful Allah is. If He was making everything this easy for me, why would I ever think that He would now make it difficult when I was doing the right thing? 

Alhamdulillah though, it was only momentary. I did sign petitions, attend rallies and advocate for Palestine. My visa still came through and we were set to travel in September. I wish I had documented my journey as I was going through it, or at least after I returned when it was fresh. Alas, I did not. However, there are some things I remember very clearly which I would like to share so others may benefit, inshaAllah.  

When Hajj Doesn’t Feel the Way You Thought It Would

I was always told that when you first lay eyes on the Ka’ba, your heart is filled with awe and wonder and love and all things good. I wanted to feel those things so badly, but I didn’t. I was extremely grateful to be there, but I didn’t feel what everyone else said I would feel. I thought something was wrong with me and that I didn’t deserve to be there. 

And no, things did not get better after that. Most people in my group were married, with children, save one girl who was also there with her brother. In the holiest of places, I started having meltdowns because I wanted more than anything to have a spouse who would care for me and children I could care for. I avoided  answering people’s questions by reading the Quran. Of course this made me feel even worse – I wasn’t reciting Qur’an for the Sake of Allah, but to avoid talking to people. 

Then there was the issue of Palestine still weighing on me. Here I was, a not-so-great servant of Allah, in His house, during the most blessed days of the year, not feeling the right things while people with much stronger faith were being murdered. What did I do to deserve such mercy from Allah? I was so afraid that Allah was giving me so much in this in the dunya, but that my punishment in the Aakhira would be more severe. 

Uplifted

Despite all these negative feelings and thoughts, Allah, in His infinite mercy, sent wonderful people, including my brother, to gently pull me out of the cycle of negativity.  He reminded me that I was surrounded by people who loved me and cared for me. He explained that a small circle of righteous friends was better than having a large social circle which may pull me away from Allah. His words were comforting. While my sorrow didn’t disappear completely, my brother’s wisdom did shift my perspective and allowed me to focus on my blessings and rephrase my duas. 

On the day of Arafah, I wept and asked Allah for help and guidance and so much more. I prayed for all my friends and family. I asked Allah to help the oppressed, especially the people of Palestine. I asked for success in this dunya and I asked for Jannah in the Aakhirah. Before the day ended, I thanked Him. I thanked Allah for this once in a lifetime opportunity and for making it so smooth and easy. I asked Him for forgiveness for my shortcomings and my wavering faith. Finally, I asked Allah to accept my Hajj and allow me to become a better version of myself. 

After coming back, it was back to the grind of looking for a job and a spouse. Alhamdulillah, I landed a decent job in the summer of 2015 and in October of 2016 I was married. A couple of years ago, I actually came across my dua list from Hajj and subhanAllah, I was amazed at how many of those duas had been accepted. Perhaps those du’as weren’t answered in the way I had envisioned but I know that whatever Allah does, is best for us. 

In the end, even though my Hajj experience wasn’t as uplifting and starry-eyed as so many others’ experiences seem to be, I am so humbled, grateful and forever in awe that Allah chose me for it when He did. 

Before leaving for Hajj, my sister had told me that in the Visionaire program with Muhammad Al Shareef, may Allah have mercy on him, she learned that our duas need to be specific. The biggest lesson I learned from my Hajj journey was how powerful dua is. Even though I didn’t make the intention of going for Hajj that year, I had always asked Allah to make it happen when it was right for me. Standing at Arafah, I realized that I was there because this was the right time for me. I needed to be there to understand that Allah would never abandon me. I reflected on everything I had been through previously and saw that I was never alone in any of my struggles. It was Allah who had pulled me out then, and I knew without a doubt that Allah was going to guide me in any future struggles He has written for me. 

I will end by reminding you, dear reader, that Allah is as you think of Him. Expect good from Him, and you will not be disappointed. He heard the du’as of my heart – du’as I hadn’t even verbalized –  and granted them in the best possible way. He is the All-Hearing so call on Him any time, especially during the blessed months and times.

I ask Allah to bless my parents, my sister who asked me to join her for Hajj and my brother and sister-in-law who so graciously took the responsibility of taking me. May Allah accept the Hajj of all Hujjaj and may He grant everyone the opportunity to fulfill this obligation in good health and with ease. May He grant our Ummah success by allowing us to uphold truth and justice. May He liberate all those who are oppressed. May He unite us all in Jannah with our beloved Prophet (saw). Ameen! 

Related:

Reflections On Hajj I Sh. Furhan Zubairi

Seeking Out The Spiritual Underpinnings Of Our Ritual Acts of Worship

The post A Less Than Perfect Hajj: Hajj Reflections appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.