The prime minister's top man is funded by the Israel lobby.

Forcibly removed from their camps in the northern West Bank, twice-over refugees fear for their internationally mandated rights.

Activists admitted in court to destroying Israeli weapons.

Somali women giving out samosas to anti-ICE protesters in Minneapolis (source: Mukhtar, X).

Imagine that there was a boarding school where children were being abused on a daily basis; where bullying was rife, where staff were casually physically violent and verbally abusive, where the food was routinely contaminated with such things as cigarette ash and insects; a school where petty rules stoked conflict and made life miserable, where staff were seemingly recruited by word of mouth at the pub and were neither vetted nor trained. Many people would say that this place should be shut down fairly swiftly, and that saving children from abuse was the important thing, more so than the concern that they may miss a few weeks of school. The benefits they get from going there do not justify the suffering.

Now consider that there is a police force that deals with a less than vital area of the law: in this case, immigration control and removal of illegal immigrants. Imagine that they act with extreme violence, that they do not distinguish between actual illegal immigrants and legal ones or even citizens but target anyone who “looks foreign”, abducting people to camps thousands of miles away for no valid reason, threaten and attack people who video their behaviour, and shoot people dead when they get in their way. Imagine also that they are deployed by the government against parts of the country which have a history of supporting the opposition, ignoring places that have many times the number of illegal immigrants of the places they terrorise. There would be calls for this entity to be abolished because the lawlessness they perpetrate is considerably worse than what they prevent.

A few weeks ago I saw someone I follow on Twitter, a Democrat who has a clear resentment for “the Left” for causing the loss of the most recent presidential election, poured scorn on the idea that ICE, the American immigration police responsible for an ongoing campaign of terror against immigrant communities in Minnesota, resulting in the deaths of two American citizens and seven others, should be abolished. “We need a sane immigration policy” she proclaims; “it makes no sense to import people into this country that dilute wages for the working class”. The reason working-class people cannot get good jobs anymore is because industry packed up and moved because it did not want to pay decent wages, which is the case both here and in the US, but it’s so much easier to blame immigrants in a country where the creed that you cannot argue with the market is beyond question. In previous tweets she has criticised people calling for ICE to be abolished because she claims they do not appreciate what “real Americans” want and are making it more difficult for Democrats to win elections. She does not actually care whether these things are right or wrong — a gang of thugs, terrorising cities, using extreme violence against non-violent people for nothing more than suspected illegal immigration — only whether it is politically convenient.

She also pours scorn on the notion of ‘defunding’ ICE. She criticises people for saying they are poorly trained, responding that to train them properly would require them to be better resourced. The same arguments are held around defunding police forces that are trigger-happy and have a history of killing innocent people, or at worst people who have committed petty crimes, or people who are in the throes of a mental health crisis; they have resources to buy wholly excessive and inappropriate military hardware to use on civilians, but have no interest in training their officers to use force appropriately. When you remind them of the need to do this, they tell you that they are not “social workers in uniform” (which is exactly what they do need to be when performing welfare checks on people reported to be in mental health crisis) and accuse people who died at the hands of the police of not doing what they were told. In the case of the ICE attack on Minneapolis, the police have become (at least for the time being) heroes, being firmly on the side of the locals under attack and some of their off-duty officers falling victim to ICE’s dragnet as anyone who is not white is assumed to be an illegal immigrant. But when people demand the abolition or defunding of police forces in response to yet another killing of an innocent man or woman by a cop who “didn’t have time for this shit” or whatever, they are called morons or similar by people who have no real solutions themselves.

Policing is actually necessary; the taking off the streets of rapists, murderers, gangsters and so on cannot wait. The removal of illegal immigrants certainly can, until they can find people who can do it without killing them, or innocent members of the public whom they perceive as being in their way, or people who were videoing them to hold them to account, and until they learn to distinguish between an actual illegal immigrant and a mere non-white person. If someone’s sole wrongdoing is being in the country or working illegally, their removal is not worth anyone losing their life over; it should not be up to the immigration service to apprehend and remove illegal immigrants who are violent criminals. They should be escorted to the airport straight from prison. A country that employs an army of undisciplined thugs who terrorise ethnic minorities and cities with a history of opposition to the government on the pretext of controlling immigration is a repressive country that is on the downslide into fascism or banana republic status and when such outfits are abolished when dictatorships are removed, the same people defending ICE would applaud. 

Can Muslim women become scholars of Islam? Should they become Islamic scholars?

Zainab bint Younus speaks to Anse Tamara Gray, a Muslim woman scholar, all about the role that women play in protecting the Islamic intellectual tradition and why it’s so important for Muslim women to study Islam at various levels and capacities. Anse Tamara shares her vision for Muslim women becoming leaders of the Ummah, and introduces Ribaat University as a way to pursue those goals.

Shaykha Tamara Gray is a traditionally trained scholar of the Islamic sciences, having spent twenty years studying in Damascus. She also holds a doctorate in leadership from the University of St. Thomas and a master’s degree in Curriculum Theory and Instruction from Temple University.

Dr. Tamara is the founder and CEO of Rabata, an organization for Muslim women, by Muslim women, dedicated to providing Islamic education in beautiful, creative ways. She also serves as a Senior Fellow at the Yaqeen Institute and is a member of the Fiqh Council of North America.

Related:

ShaykhaTalk: Female Scholarship Or Feminism?

[Podcast] From The Maldives To Malaysia: A Shaykha’s Story | Shaykha Aisha Hussain Rasheed

Podcast: Muslim Women’s Spirituality In Ramadan

The post [Podcast] Guardians of the Tradition: Muslim Women & Islamic Education | Anse Tamara Gray appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

Leading pro-Israel advocate in European Parliament depicts vetting of aid workers as reasonable.

Tulkarm farming family face losing their land, as the Israeli military orders their farm demolished.

A burgeoning set of Muslim creatives and intellectuals are thriving amid the backdrop of Zohran Mamdani’s rise. We ask 18 of them about this historic moment in New York City life

Against the backdrop of Zohran Mamdani’s mayoral rise is a dynamic scene of Muslim creatives and intellectuals who are helping usher in a new era for New York City. Their prominence represents a rebuke of the ugly Islamophobia that defined the period following 9/11, and is in many ways an outcrop of the mass movement for Palestinian rights forged over the last two years. We ask 18 Muslim New Yorkers to discuss their work and what this moment means.
How Muslim New Yorkers are changing the city’s cultural landscape

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From Palestine to Venezuela, western colonialism has dropped its mask.

In the journey of the soul, the most transformative moments are often the most uncomfortable. Whether we are navigating the complexities of adulthood or guiding the next generation, the Islamic tradition teaches that true growth is a moral search conducted through suhba (companionship) with other sentient beings capable of moral choice. Yet, a new phenomenon is quietly displacing this sacred friction: the rise of Artificial Intelligence (AI) companions.

From the conversational intimacy of Chat GPT to the highly customized simulations of popular AI Companions such as Character.ai and Replika, millions now engage in private, sustained dialogues with digital entities programmed to simulate empathy, validation, and a seamless presence. While these platforms offer a digital “safe harbor” for those navigating isolation, we must ask: at what cost does “frictionless” intimacy come to the human soul?

The Innate Vulnerability to the Script

Our susceptibility to digital intimacy is not a modern accident, but a biological reality. In the mid-twentieth century, early experiments in computer science demonstrated that humans possess an innate psychological vulnerability to anthropomorphization – the tendency to project a personality, intentions, and consciousness onto simple computer scripts.1 We are effectively hardwired to perceive a social presence and a “real” relationship even when we are interacting with nothing more than code.2

While these entities are programmed to simulate validation, they represent a steady erosion of the boundary between a tool and a friend. This push for “easy,” conflict-free relationships clashes with the Islamic value of the “moral search”—the hard work of growing our character and keeping our power to make real choices. Because these digital tools lack a real moral compass, they often fail to navigate the ethical and emotional complexities inherent in crises.3

A Tool for Learning vs. a Mirror for the Ego

Interestingly, the Qur’ān itself uses human-like descriptions of Allah , referring to the “Hand of Allah” [Surah Al-Fath: 48;10] or His “Eyes” [Surah Hud: 11;37]. These aren’t meant to define what God looks like, but are a teaching mercy; they make a “complex abstract morality” feel relatable so we can build a personal relationship with our Creator.

However, AI uses these human-like qualities for a very different purpose: to fake a friendship that has no real moral depth. When we treat a machine as a “companion,” we risk ignoring the sacred uniqueness of the human soul (rūh). While God uses these descriptions to pull us toward a higher authority, AI uses them to keep us comfortable in a simulated relationship that doesn’t ask anything of us.

While the story of Mūsa and Khidr [Surah Al-Kahf: 18:65–82] is a powerful example of mentoring, where the student is challenged by a perspective that shatters his own logic – the AI companion offers no such disruption. This interaction is life-changing precisely because it is difficult and pushes us to grow. In contrast, an AI interaction is “frictionless”. It acts as a mirror of the user’s own nafs (ego), and lacks the “otherness” necessary to develop true empathy. In essence, there is no conflict unless you start it, and the AI never pushes you to be a better person. 

The Atrophy of the Heart

“Real empathy and relationship skills involve learning how to handle disagreement and stand up to social pressure.” [PC: Schiba (unsplash)]

Because the AI is essentially just an echo of ourselves, it lacks the independent voice needed for deep, spiritual change. Real empathy and relationship skills involve learning how to handle disagreement and stand up to social pressure. In human-to-human interaction, conflict is the “refining fire” that builds our character.

Without this independent pressure, our hearts can become weak. If our “growth” only ever reflects our own desires, we aren’t achieving tazkiyah (purification of the soul), but are instead stuck in a loop of telling ourselves what we want to hear.

Conclusion: Returning to the Community of Souls

In our tradition, well-being is more than just feeling “stress-free.” It is the active work of building God-consciousness (taqwa) through the “refining fire” of a real human community. We have to look past the “safe harbor” of a computer screen and return to the suhba (companionship) that truly matters.

To deepen this reflection within your own circles, consider using the following questions to spark a meaningful conversation about the future of our digital and spiritual lives:

Community Reflection Questions

1. In what ways have we started to prefer “frictionless” digital interactions over the “messy” reality of human community?
2. How can we reintroduce the “Khidr-like” disruption in our circles to ensure we aren’t just echoing our own nafs?
3. What practical boundaries can we set to ensure AI remains a tool for utility rather than a substitute for suhba?

Just as the human-like language of the Qur’ān is a bridge to a higher Truth, technology should only be a bridge to human connection, not a substitute for it. True well-being lies in the pursuit of haqq (truth) alongside other souls—a journey that requires a heart, a spirit, and a presence that no computer code can ever replicate.

 

Related:

– Faith and Algorithms: From an Ethical Framework for Islamic AI to Practical Application

– AI And The Dajjal Consciousness: Why We Need To Value Authentic Islamic Knowledge In An Age Of Convincing Deception

 

1    Byron Reeves and Clifford Nass, “The Media Equation: How People Treat Computers, Television, and New Media Like Real People and Places,” Journal of Communication 46, no. 1 (1996): 23.2    Xiaoran Sun, Yunqi Wang, and Brandon T. McDaniel, “AI Companions and Adolescent Social Relationships: Benefits, Risks, and Bidirectional Influences,” Child Development Perspectives 18, no. 4 (2024): 215–221, https://doi.org/10.1093/cdpers/aadaf009.3    M. C. Klos et al., “Artificial Intelligence–Based Chatbots for Youth Mental Health: A Systematic Review,” JMIR Mental Health 10 (2023): e40337, https://doi.org/10.2196/40337.

The post Digital Intimacy: AI Companionship And The Erosion Of Authentic Suhba appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

In the Name of Allah, the Gracious, the Merciful

As Ramadan approaches, it is imperative for Muslims to purify their hearts of malice (ḥiqd). At its least harmful, malice diminishes one’s rank in the sight of Allah and obstructs a believer from performing voluntary acts of goodness. At its most severe, malice becomes a deadly spiritual disease associated with idolatry, unbelief, and even the practices of black magic.

The Messenger of Allah ﷺ instructed us to approach Ramadan with hearts free of malice, as indicated by his statement:

“On the middle night of Sha’ban, Allah Almighty looks down upon His creation, and He forgives the believers, but He abandons the people of grudges and malice to their malice.”1 In another narration, the Prophet ﷺ said, “Allah looks down at His creation on the middle night of Sha’ban, and He forgives all of His creatures, except for an idolater or one who harbors hostility (mushāḥin).2” Imam al-Ṣan‘ānī explained that ‘one who harbors hostility’ refers to a person who carries malice in the heart.3

In a related narration, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ issued a grave warning:

“If not one of three evil traits is within someone, then Allah will forgive whatever else as He wills: one who dies without associating any partners with Allah, one who does not follow the way of black magic, and one who does not harbor malice against his brother.”4

In other words, a Muslim who deliberately nurtures malice against his brothers or sisters places himself in the company of idolaters and those who seek aid from devils. Malice is so heinous that Allah may withhold forgiveness from one who persists in it. As Imam al-Munāwī observed, “Malice is an evil portent. Its condemnation has been related by the Book and the Sunnah countless times.”5

Clearly, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ intended for believers to purify themselves of malice by the middle of Sha‘bān—at least two weeks before the arrival of Ramadan. To that end, we must develop a proper understanding of what malice is, how it undermines fasting, and the means by which it is treated, lest our Ramadan be corrupted from within before it even begins.

Malice: The Root of Evil

Imam Ibn Ḥibbān, who compiled the sayings of the Prophet ﷺ in written form, wrote plainly, “Malice is the root of evil. Whoever harbors evil in his heart will have a bitter plant grow, the taste of which is rage and the fruit of which is regret.6” There is no acceptable degree of malice, for the scholars have described it as “one of the mothers of sin.7” Unlike anger—which is often dangerous but occasionally righteous—malice is never praiseworthy. It is a weed in the garden of the heart and must be uprooted.

Shaykh Ḥasan al-Fayyūmī, one of the Hadith masters of the 9th century Hijrah, defined malice as “to internalize enmity and hatred.8” He explained that it is often described as the desire for revenge, and that its true nature emerges when rage cannot be released—because one is unable to retaliate in the moment—causing it to turn inward, fester, and ultimately transform into malice. In this sense, malice is unresolved anger: a smoldering fury that is retained and nurtured until it erupts in acts of vengeance. The desire for revenge and the pleasure of justified rage are beautified by Satan, yet in reality, they are a silent poison that corrupts the believer from within, masking the virtues of character and even sabotaging one’s fasting in Ramadan.

Malice is not a single spiritual disease, either, but rather a constellation of related sins that take root in the heart. Imam Ibn Ḥajar al-Haytamī listed unjust anger, envy, and malice as a single disease among the major sins.9 Further examination of the Hadith commentaries in which malice is mentioned shows that scholars consistently associate it with envy (ḥasad), arrogance (kibr), rancor (ghill), malevolence (ghish), hypocrisy (nifāq), rage (ghayẓ), and lingering grudges (ḍaghāʾin).10 Indeed, it could be said that ‘all roads lead to malice,’ for it is the central node through which Satan’s whisperings assail the heart. Therefore, purifying the heart of malice disarms the Devil of his most potent of weapons.

Fasting, when observed in accordance with both its outward rules and inward realities, is among the most effective means of treating malice in the heart. The relationship between the two is reciprocal: fasting purifies malice, while malice corrupts fasting. For this reason, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ urged believers to rid themselves of malice at least two weeks before the onset of Ramadan.

Fasting: A Treatment for Malice

“When I forgave and held no malice toward anyone, I relieved my soul of the anxiety of enmity.” Imam al-Shafi’i [PC: Christopher Stites (unsplash)]

Malice has been described by the Prophet ﷺ and the righteous predecessors as a “disturbance” (waḥar), an “agitation” (waghar), and a state of inner “disorder” (balābila). This is because malice harms the one who harbors it more than anyone else: it unsettles the heart, disrupts worship, and robs the soul of tranquility. As Imam al-Shāfiʿī expressed in his poetry, “When I forgave and held no malice toward anyone, I relieved my soul of the anxiety of enmity.11”

When we fast, we deliberately train ourselves to refrain from retaliation and revenge. We cultivate patience, forbearance, and dignified self-restraint in the face of insult, in accordance with the Prophet’s ﷺ instruction, “If someone insults him or seeks to fight him, let him say: ‘Indeed, I am fasting.’12” This posture stands in direct opposition to the impulse of malice. Thus, one who truly fasts is actively resisting malice, even if unaware of its formal or academic definition.

In this light, the commentators understood what the Prophet ﷺ meant when he said,

“Shall I tell you what will rid the chest of disturbances? Fasting for three days each month.13” Imam al-San’ani explained, “Disturbances in the chest, that is, its malevolence, malice, rage, hypocrisy, or intense anger. This [ridding of disturbance] is due to the benefit of fasting.14” 

The righteous predecessors likewise linked fasting to the treatment of malice, specifically citing the Prophet’s ﷺ description of Ramadan as “the month of patience.15” Al-Ḥārith al-Hamdānī, may Allah have mercy on him, said, “Fasting the month of patience—Ramadan—and fasting three days each month removes disorders within the chest.” Mujāhid similarly said, “It removes agitation within the chest.” When asked what agitation in the chest is, he replied, “His malevolence.16” Imam Ibn Baṭṭāl clarified this linguistic connection, explaining, “Agitation in the chest refers to the inflammation of malice and its burning within the heart.17”

If malice is the node around which Satan gathers his weapons, then patience is the virtue through which Allah dispenses His cures—such as mercy (raḥmah) and sincere goodwill (naṣīḥah).

Healing from the Disease

Malice is a malignant disease at all times of the year, not only during Ramadan, and its cure is not confined to fasting alone. Imam Ibn Qudāmah, citing the great Imam al-Ghazālī, teaches that the general remedy for diseases of the heart is to compel oneself to act in opposition to them.18 Thus, if a Muslim feels inclined to curse another person, he should instead force himself to pray for that person’s guidance and well-being—however distasteful this may feel to the heart. As Imam al-Ghazālī observed, such remedies are “very bitter to the heart, yet benefit lies in bitter medicine.19”

Building upon this insight, Shaykh Ṣāliḥ ibn al-Ḥumayd, one of the Imams of al-Masjid al-Ḥarām in Mecca, offers the following counsel:

Whoever is afflicted with the disease of malice must compel himself to behave toward the one he resents in a manner opposite to what his malice demands—replacing censure with praise and arrogance with humility. He should place himself in the other’s position and remember that he himself loves to be treated with gentleness and affection; thus, let him treat others in the same way.20

Such, then, is your mission this Ramadan: to enter the month with a heart purified of malice, and to emerge from it fortified against this disease ever taking root again. Strive to place yourself in the position of those you resent, so that you may regard them with empathy and incline your heart toward forgiveness. If nothing else, keep the words of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ ever before your eyes, “Whoever would love to be delivered from Hellfire and admitted into Paradise, let him meet his end with faith in Allah and the Last Day, and let him treat people as he would love to be treated.21”

Success comes from Allah , and Allah knows best.

 

Related:

• Using Ramadan To Forgive Those Who Have Hurt Us In The Past
• Purification Of The Self: A Journey That Begins From The Outside-In

 

 

1    Ibn Abī ’Āṣim, Al-Sunnah li-Ibn Abī ’Āṣim (al-Maktab al-Islāmī, 1980), 1:233 #511; declared authentic (ṣaḥīḥ) according to Shaykh al-Albānī in the comments. Full text at: www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2025/09/03/allah-forgives-except-hiqd/2    Ibn Ḥibbān, Al-Iḥsān fī Taqrīb Ṣaḥīḥ Ibn Ḥibbān (Muʼassasat al-Risālah, 1988), 12:481 #5665; declared authentic due to external evidence (ṣaḥīḥ li ghayrihi) by Shaykh al-Arnā’ūṭ in the comments. Full text at: www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2019/06/16/forgives-shaban-except-mushrik/3    Muḥammad ibn Ismā’īl al-Ṣanʻānī, Al-Tanwīr Sharḥ al-Jāmi’ al-Ṣaghīr (Maktabat Dār al-Salām, 2011), 3:344.4     Al-Ṭabarānī, Al-Mu’jam al-Kabīr (Maktabat Ibn Taymīyah, Dār al-Ṣumayʻī, 1983), 12:243 #13004; declared fair (ḥasan) by Imam al-Munāwī in Fayḍ Al-Qadīr: Sharḥ al-Jāmiʻ al-Ṣaghīr (al-Maktabah al-Tijārīyah al-Kubrá, 1938), 3:289. Full text at: www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2025/08/28/three-allah-does-not-forgive/5    Al-Munāwī, Fayḍ al-Qadīr, 3:289.6    Ibn Ḥibbān, Rawḍat al-’Uqalā’ wa Nuz’hat al-Fuḍalā’ (Dār al-Kutub al-ʻIlmīyah, 1975), 1:134.7    Al-Ṣanʻānī, Al-Tanwīr Sharḥ al-Jāmi’ al-Ṣaghīr, 5:140.8    Ḥasan ibn ʿAlī al-Fayyūmī, Fatḥ al-Qarīb al-Mujīb ʻalá al-Targhīb wal-Tarhīb (Maktabat Dār al-Salām, 2018), 11:266,9    Ibn Ḥajar al-Haytamī, Al-Zawājir ’an Iqtirāf al-Kabā’ir (Dār al-Fikr, 1987), 1:83.10    For the full length study on malice, see the paper, “Malice in Islam: The Root of Evil in the Heart” by Abu Amina Elias (Faith in Allah, August 29, 2025): www.abuaminaelias.com/malice-in-islam-root-of-evil11    Muḥammad ibn Qāsim al-Amāsī, Rawḍ al-Akhyār al-Muntakhab min Rabīʻ al-Abrār (Dār al-Qalam al-ʿArabī, 2002), 1:177.12    Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī (Dār Ṭawq al-Najjāh, 2002), 3:26 #1904; Muslim ibn al-Ḥajjāj, Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim (Dār Iḥyāʼ al-Kutub al-ʻArabīyah, 1955), 2:807 #1151. Full text at: www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2011/08/07/virtues-fasting-sawm/13    Al-Nasā’ī, Sunan al-Nasā’ī (Maktab al-Maṭbūʻāt al-Islāmīyah, 1986), 4:208 #2385; declared authentic (ṣaḥīḥ) by Shaykh al-Albānī in Ṣaḥīḥ al-Jāmi’ al-Ṣaghīr wa Ziyādatihi (al-Maktab al-Islāmī, 1969), 1:509 #2608. Full text at: www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2019/04/23/fasting-purification-heart/14    Al-Ṣanʻānī, Al-Tanwīr Sharḥ al-Jāmi’ al-Ṣaghīr, 7:12.15    Al-Nasā’ī, Sunan al-Nasā’ī, 4:218 #2408; declared authentic (ṣaḥīḥ) by Shaykh al-Albānī in Ṣaḥīḥ al-Jāmi’, 1:692 #3718. Full text at: www.abuaminaelias.com/dailyhadithonline/2014/07/03/fasting-ramadan-three-days/16    ’Abd al-Razzāq al-Ṣan’ānī, Muṣannaf ’Abd al-Razzāq (al-Maktab al-Islāmī, 1983), 4:298 #7872.17    Ibn Baṭṭāl, Sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī (Maktabat al-Rushd Nāshirūn, 2003), 8:42.18    Ibn Qudāmah al-Maqdisī, Mukhtaṣar Minhāj al-Qāṣidīn (Maktabat Dār al-Bayān, 1978), 1:190.19    Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazzālī, Iḥyā’ ’Ulūm al-Dīn (Dār al-Maʻrifah, 1980), 3:199.20    Ṣāliḥ ibn ʿAbd Allāh ibn Ḥumayd, Naḍrat al-Na’īm fī Makārim Akhlāq al-Rasūl al-Karīm (Dār al-Wasīlah lil-Nashr wal-Tawzīʿ, 1998),10/443221    Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, 3:1472 #1844.

The post Starting Shaban, Train Yourself To Head Into Ramadan Without Malice appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

As Darius learns Ma Shushu’s medicine, seeing a dying child forces him to confront his own dark past.

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

* * *

Acupuncture

The treatment room – the same room where I had first awakened after arriving here – was dimmer than the rest of the house, the shutters drawn halfway. Scrolls of neat black characters hung on the walls, and bundles of dried herbs dangled from the rafters, scenting the air with bitterness and earth. The padded table sat in the middle of the room, covered in clean cloth. A small brazier glowed in one corner, and beside it the candle flame flickered.

“Your pain is behind the eye?” Ma Shushu asked the man.

“Yes,” the man whispered. “Behind the eye, into the neck. Always drumming in my head.”

“Hm.” My uncle’s voice was thoughtful but not sympathetic. “You drink wine. You stay up at night, worrying about profit and loss. You shout at your workers. Your liver is hot, your blood rises to your head.”

The man grimaced. “If you cure it, I will pay anything.”

“You will pay what is fair.” Ma Shushu took another needle, passed it briefly through the candle flame, then cooled it with a puff of breath. His hands were sure and unhurried. “And you will follow my advice.”

He pressed a fingertip gently along the man’s brow, then found a spot at the temple. With a tiny, precise movement, he slid the needle in. The man’s fingers twitched, but he did not cry out.

“If you tense, the qi will knot,” my uncle said. “Breathe slowly. In… and out.” He demonstrated, his own belly rising and falling in time with his words. “Tell me when the drum in your head changes.”

He moved smoothly around the table, balanced and focused. He placed needles at the back of the skull, the base of the neck, and the web between thumb and forefinger. Each insertion was as smooth as a well-executed strike. No wasted motion, no hesitation.

I found myself mapping his movements onto my father’s lessons. The lines of the man’s body were like the meridians in Five Animals forms – paths along which force flowed. These same points were striking targets or pain points in combat. Yet here the force was not a blow, but something invisible within the flesh. I did not understand it, but I could see that there was a system, as strict and exact as any martial form.

“Now?” Ma Shushu asked.

The man swallowed. His face had relaxed a little. “The drum is… softer,” he said. “Farther away.”

“Good.” Another needle. “And now?”

The man’s shoulders sagged. “The pain is gone,” he said, sounding surprised and very relieved.

Divine Wisdom

“Your body wishes to be well, but you poison it daily,” Ma Shushu told the man.

Haaris stood beside me, as silent as I was, though I saw his eyes shine with pride. He had seen this many times before.

Ma Shushu checked the needles, then stepped back. “You will lie like this for a while. When you rise, do so slowly. You will drink no more wine, is that clear? You come from an honored Hui family. You know drinking wine is against our faith, and your pain is proof of the wisdom of Allah’s prohibitions, though Allah’s commands need no proof. Everything that Allah commands is Divine wisdom for our benefit, not for Him. Allah the Most High is independent of all needs and wants. You could drink yourself into the grave, and it would not harm Allah in the least. It’s for you, do you understand?” Ma Shushu punctuated this last comment with a gentle finger tap to the man’s forehead.

“Yes, honorable sir,” the man said.

“You will go to bed early,” Ma Shushu went on. “Tomorrow you will not drink wine. Instead, walk in the fresh air. Send your workers home an hour before Maghreb. They have rights upon you, and if you do not treat them fairly, you will answer to Allah on Yawm Al-Qiyamah.”

“Yes, yes,” the man murmured. His voice was drowsy. “Whatever you say, Master Ma.”

Work for the Mind

My uncle extinguished the candle flame with a pinch of wetted fingers, then turned to us. “Haaris, watch him. If he tries to roll over, stop him. Darius, come with me.”

I followed him into the main room. He closed the door to the treatment room halfway, leaving it open enough that Haaris could call out if needed.

“How much did you understand?”

“A little,” I admitted. “You followed the meridian lines inside his body. Like forms that exist under the skin.”

He regarded me sharply. “How do you know about meridian lines?”

In reality my father had taught me the meridian lines in order to be more precise in striking. These were the points where strikes and gouges could elicit maximum pain or even cause crippling injury. Stabbing the junction between the front shoulder and chest muscle, for example, or up into the armpit. Punching the solar plexus; or a knife hand chop into the philtrum, which was the groove between the upper lip and the base of the nose. But all I said to Ma Shushu was, “My father taught me.”

My uncle grunted, and I had the feeling he was surprised that my father knew the meridians, but he did not say so. “In this house,” he said, “there is work for the hands, the spirit and the mind. Your hands are capable, I have seen that. Now we must train the other two.”

I bowed my head slightly. “Yes, Ma Shushu.”

He clapped his hands once, lightly. “We will pray, then you may rest for an hour. After that, we will continue your studies.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Do not worry. Needles will not be involved.”

I almost smiled back, but caught myself. I was not yet ready to feel that light. Still, as I returned to bed to nap, I felt some of the weight of the day lifting from my shoulders. There were problems to be solved, secrets to be kept, and personalities to be learned. This was all more than I was used to. But I would figure it out. I had to.

Independent of All Needs

That night after supper I shared the moon cake with Haaris. He told me he’d already had one in town, but I shared it anyway. He was very happy, and told me a funny story about something that had happened in town. A black horse had come charging through the main street, riderless, and a woman – a milk-seller – fainted with fright. Zihan Ma revived her, and the first thing she said upon waking was, “Don’t let my husband know about us!”

I was scandalized, but I chuckled. I knew from experience that when a person fell unconscious and revived, they might not know where they were, and might even remember having dreams, even if only a few seconds had passed. It was very strange.

Lying in bed that night, my mind drifted to Ma Shushu’s words to the wine-drinking merchant. I had always wondered at the foolishness of the villagers who left offerings of food in front of the statue, only to watch the food rot. What was the point? Yet Ma Shushu said that Allah is independent of all needs and wants. It means, I thought, that our worship is not about Allah’s ego. Our prayer is a way of lifting us out of the misery of this world. I might have contemplated this further, but sleep overtook me.

A Restless Boy

The next day after Fajr prayer Ma Shushu declared that I would join Haaris in the farm work.

“Husband,” Lee Ayi said. “Let him work with me a little longer. I have a lot of work this week, and he’s been very helpful. Besides, I want to get to know him a bit more.”

She spoke this lie very naturally, and Ma Shushu clearly suspected nothing, as he replied, “Certainly, if you wish.”

So I did housework with Lee Ayi for a handful of days, until my shoulder was healed.

One day we were folding laundry together, standing at the low table by the window. The cloth was warm from the sun, faintly smelling of soap and air.

Lee Ayi shook one tunic out and said, almost idly, “We were not farmers, you know.”

I looked up. “Who?”

“The Lee family.” She smoothed the sleeve flat. “We lived in the city. Your grandfather was a clerk for a trading house when he was young. Later he kept accounts for the mosque. People trusted him with money. Our family was respected.”

She folded with quick, precise movements.

“Yong was restless even as a boy. Always running ahead, climbing walls, getting in fights.”

I nodded. “That sounds like him.”

She gave a short huff. “He was brilliant, but difficult. My father would correct him and Yong would listen, but only once. If the correction came twice, he would bristle.”

She stacked the folded cloth neatly.

“He was good at martial arts very early. Better than Jun De ever was.”

I hesitated. “Jun De?”

“Our older brother.” She did not look at me. “He drowned in the river when Yong and I were still young.”

I waited, but she did not elaborate.

Games and Races

When my shoulder was healed I went out to work in the fields with Haaris.

Haaris worked hard, never complaining, singing to himself as he hauled water or guided the animals. He knew every task by heart. I was bigger and stronger than him, and once I learned the rhythm of the work, we moved quickly. The fences were repaired, the firewood stacked, the pens cleaned. By the time the sun stood directly overhead, much of what normally took until Asr was already done.

Haaris was delighted. He taught me jianzi, where we took turns kicking a small shuttlecock made of copper coins wrapped in twine, with chicken feathers sticking out of it. The idea was to balance it on one foot and kick it up in place, and keep catching it on the foot. Haaris excelled at it, but the first time I tried it I sent it almost onto the roof of the barn, which made Haaris cackle like a chicken.

Another day he challenged me to a race to the gate and back. I indulged him and let him win, but he knew what I’d done and stuck his tongue out at me, saying, “Boo!” At times I found Haaris’s innocence difficult to relate to, but on the whole he was a sweet boy, unfailingly polite and respectful. And handsome too. He had wide set black eyes and straight black hair that fell to just below his ears. His father was quite dark, and his mother very pale, and Haaris landed in the middle, which gave him a healthy glow.

When he wanted to run off to play tag with the donkeys and feed them oranges, that was too much. I left him to his games and went into the house to watch Ma Shushu work.

Patients Rich and Poor

People came for treatment in a steady stream. Many were of the laboring class: farmers with hands split open from winter soil and cracked wooden plows; muleteers whose backs were knotted hard from sleeping on the ground beside the road; old women with knees swollen like gourds from decades of squatting in the fields; children burning with fever, their mothers’ faces pinched with fear; a charcoal burner coughing black dust into a rag; a silk porter with rope scars cut deep into his shoulders; and others of this kind.

These people brought payment in the form of goods: a basket of eggs, a large bundle of bok choy or daikon radish; or in one case a young pig, which Ma Shushu refused, explaining to the man that we did not eat pork. I saw the man return a week later with coins, after selling the pig I supposed. Often the payment was insufficient, but Ma Shushu treated them all, turning no one away.

This was balanced out by occasional patients from the upper classes: merchants with delicate mustaches and jade rings; the wife of an official carried in on sedan chairs, veiled and silent, suffering from lingering weakness after childbirth; a young scholar with ink-stained fingers and eyes red from studying by oil lamp, tormented by headaches before his examinations; an elderly, heavyset matron attended by two servants, her pulse thin and fluttering from years of rich food and little movement; and once, discreetly at dusk, a high-ranking government official accompanied by two guards. This last one insisted the gate be closed, not wanting anyone to know he was ill.

These people paid in gold, and Ma Shushu spared no expense in their treatment, often using rare and expensive medicines.

Every now and then there was a patient who Ma Shushu admitted he could not cure. In these cases, he gave them medicine to relieve pain and alleviate symptoms temporarily. One case that stuck with me was that of a child who was perhaps six or seven years old, carried in by his mother because he no longer had the strength to walk.

He was terribly pale, his skin almost translucent, with faint bruises blooming along his arms and legs though his mother swore he had not fallen or been struck. His belly was distended, his limbs thin, and his gums bled when Ma Shushu examined his mouth. He tired quickly, and when he smiled it was with a terrible effort. His mother said he had once been lively, always running, always climbing, but now he slept most of the day and woke drenched in sweat, complaining that his bones hurt deep inside.

Ma Shushu listened, felt the child’s pulse for a long time, and examined his tongue. His face grew grave. He asked gentle questions, then took the mother into another room and spoke to her privately. I followed, standing beside the wall, listening.

“This illness is in the blood itself,” Ma Shushu said softly. “It is like rot in the roots of a tree. I can ease his pain, but that is all. He is dying.”

The mother bowed until her forehead touched the floor, not weeping, only breathing in short, broken gasps. Ma Shushu helped her up and pressed medicine into her hands, refusing payment. He spoke to her quietly about keeping the boy comfortable, about rest and cool water, about praying for patience and mercy.

After they left, the room felt heavy, as if the air itself had thickened. I had seen death before, but this was different. He was just a little boy, and there was no enemy to fight, no mistake to correct, no injustice to rage against. That night, long after the lamps were out, I lay awake thinking of the boy’s smile, and about the fact that even the greatest skill had limits.

Hope and Happiness

The next day during Islamic studies lessons, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Haaris beside me, I asked Ma Shushu about the boy.

His solemn eyes flicked to mine. “He is very ill. It’s a blood-borne disease that strikes children. I have seen it before. I do not know what causes it.”

“I heard what you said to the mom. It doesn’t seem fair. You taught me that Allah has a plan for everyone, and that our lives have meaning. Why then take away a life so young?”

Ma Shushu rubbed his chin, chewing on one lip. “Part of imaan is to believe in Al-Qadar, Divine destiny, the good and the bad of it. Everyone dies, but why do some die young or suffer? This is the point at which human knowledge fails, and faith steps in. Our own Prophet Muhammad, sal-Allahu alayhi wa sallam, lost more than one child. One of them was Ibrahim, his beloved little son, who became ill when he was eighteen months old. The Prophet (s) held him in his arms as he was ill, kissing him and smelling him. Then, as Ibrahim was breathing his last breaths, the Prophet (s) began to weep silently. AbdurRahman ibn Awf said, ‘Even you, O Messenger of Allah?’ He meant that the Prophet had prohibited wailing and crying excessively over the dead. The Prophet (s) said, ‘O son of Awf, this is mercy.’ Then, the Prophet (s) wept some more, saying, ‘Verily, the eyes shed tears and the heart is grieved, yet we will not say anything but what pleases our Lord. We are saddened by your departure, O Ibrahim!’”

“He was the Seal of the Prophets,” Ma Shushu went on. “The highest of humanity. Yet even he had to watch his son die. We cannot understand this, but we don’t allow it to affect our faith in Allah. Does that make sense?”

I nodded. I hadn’t really expected any other answer, and Ma Shushu’s words were profound.

“Do you want to ask something else?”

“My life has been difficult, did you know that?” I blurted out these words. I had never spoken of personal subjects to Ma Shushu, never opened up to him before.

“I have gathered that, yes.”

“My mother’s life was sad, and she died painfully. There were times, after my mother died, that I wished I could die as well, to be with her. I would have been jealous of that boy. I would have wanted to take his disease and die instead of him.”

“I’m very sorry. We didn’t know about your situation.”

Haaris often fidgeted during these lessons, but he had gone very still beside me, and I could feel the weight of his gaze upon me.

“I don’t feel that way anymore,” I went on, looking Ma Shushu in the eye. “If I had died, I would not have seen how my father changed before he died. And I would not have met you, and Lee Ayi, and my brother Haaris.”

I had meant to say my cousin, but for some reason my tongue said, my brother. When I said these words, Haaris burst into tears and threw himself upon me, hugging me. I lost my balance and tipped over. I laughed, but I held him to me and patted his back until his father helped him up.

Ma Shushu sat beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Darius. You say your mother’s life was sad, but I am very sure that there was something in her life that gave her hope and happiness. That something was you.”

* * *

Come back next week for Part 8 – Refugees At The Gate

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:

Zaid Karim, Private Investigator, Part 1 – Temptation

Gravedigger: A Short Story

The post Far Away [Part 7] – Divine Wisdom appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

We talk to Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah about “racialized fascist imperialism.” We also discuss new details of US plans for a Gaza concentration camp.

Israeli army, settlers, attack Palestinian villages across West Bank.

Miqdaad Versi, Shaista Aziz, Aamna Mohdin and Nosheen Iqbal on the rise of the far right and growing Islamophobia in the UK

The far right is on the rise and much of its messaging is explicitly Islamophobic. In 2024 anti-Muslim hate crimes in England and Wales doubled. Meanwhile, the government has stated that it cannot even agree on a definition of what Islamophobia is.

How does all this make British Muslims feel? Miqdaad Versi, Shaista Aziz and the Guardian’s community affairs reporter Aamna Mohdin talk to Nosheen Iqbal about what’s changed.

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Bismillah

Bismillah, alhamdulillah, wa salatu wa salamu ‘ala Rasoolillah, wa ‘ala alihi wa sahbihi wa man wala. Amma ba’ad.

Allah ﷻ tells us in the Qur’an about Ramadan in verses that many of us recite each year. They begin with:

“يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا”
“O you who believe!”

One of the companions (radiAllahu ‘anhu) said that whenever you hear this phrase in the Qur’an, pay close attention. Why? Because what follows is either a command towards something good—khayr—or a prohibition from something evil—sharr.

The Command to Fast

Allah ﷻ says:

“يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا كُتِبَ عَلَيْكُمُ الصِّيَامُ كَمَا كُتِبَ عَلَى الَّذِينَ مِن قَبْلِكُمْ لَعَلَّكُمْ تَتَّقُونَ”

“O you who believe! Fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may attain taqwa.”

It’s already written, already decreed—fasting is fardh, a compulsory obligation upon us. Just as it was upon those before us.

Fasting Across Faiths

I remember a brother who converted to Islam. During Ramadan, he attended a school gathering with various religious leaders. When he declined the food, someone from another religious group approached him and said:

“I know why you didn’t eat. It’s Ramadan, isn’t it? You’re fasting.”

The brother replied yes. Interestingly, he had converted from that man’s own religion. The man then said something remarkable:

“Fasting is such a noble thing to do. It’s too bad our religion changed it over the years.”

Many religions have remnants of fasting—maybe avoiding certain drinks or foods—but the tradition has been diluted over time.

The “Criticism” of Islam

People often criticize Islam by saying: “You Muslims are still practicing the same Islam from 1400 years ago.”

SubhanAllah. What a beautiful “criticism”! That’s exactly what we want—to follow the Islam practiced by the Prophet ﷺ and his companions.

Ramadan: A Month of Qur’an and Du’a

In the verses about Ramadan, there’s a powerful interjection. Between the verses on fasting, Allah ﷻ says:

“وَإِذَا سَأَلَكَ عِبَادِي عَنِّي فَإِنِّي قَرِيبٌ”
“And when My servant asks you concerning Me—indeed, I am near.”

“أُجِيبُ دَعْوَةَ الدَّاعِ إِذَا دَعَانِ”
“I respond to the du’a of the supplicant when he calls upon Me.”

Allah ﷻ will answer your du’a. Every single time.

The Power of Du’a

You might make du’a for a Cadillac Escalade. And either:

1. You get it.
2. You get something even better.
3. Allah protects you from a harm you didn’t know about.

Even if your du’a isn’t answered in this life, it’s stored for the Hereafter.

The Prophet ﷺ told us: on the Day of Judgment, when people see the stored rewards of unanswered du’as, they will wish that none of their du’as had been answered in the dunya!

The Cost of Du’a and Intention

What does it cost to make du’a? Nothing.

What about making a good intention? Also nothing.

But the reward? If you make a sincere intention to do good, it’s recorded as if you did it. And if you actually do it? You get 10 times the reward.

Imagine the power of simply sitting down and making lofty intentions:

• “I want to build 1,000 masjids.”
• “I want to donate a billion dollars to da’wah.”
• “I want to bring a thousand people back to Allah.”

Even if only 1% of people fulfilled those intentions, our community would be transformed.

Don’t Let Others Deflate Your Intentions

Sometimes when you make big intentions, someone will say, “That’ll never work. Be realistic.”

That kind of mindset deflates ambition. But the Sahaba didn’t think like that. In fact, the Battle of Badr happened during Ramadan. And what did they do? They fasted and fought.

The Prophet ﷺ made du’a:

“O Allah, if this group is destroyed, You will not be worshipped on Earth.”

Ramadan wasn’t just about fasting—it was about striving.

The Spectators and the Participants

Masajid are packed on:

1. The first night of Ramadan.
2. The last 10 nights.

These are the spectators—the ones watching from the sidelines. But the real participants are in the masjid every night. They push through, read Qur’an while others sip tea, and spend time feeding others—not just feeding themselves.

Shahr al-‘It’am vs. Shahr al-Ta’am

Ramadan is Shahr al-‘It’am—the month of feeding others. But many of us have made it Shahr al-Ta’am—the month of eating!

There’s so much pressure, especially on our sisters, to raise food quality. But is that the essence of Ramadan? Going to dinner parties? Eating more than usual?

The Prophet ﷺ performed i’tikaf in Ramadan—not social dinners. In his last Ramadan, he did 20 days of i’tikaf.

No More Excuses

People often say:

• “I can’t go to the masjid daily.”
  But in Ramadan, they show up every night.
• “I can’t pray Qiyam—it’s too hard.”
  Yet during Ramadan, they wake up early for Suhoor and Qiyam.
• “I can’t live without coffee or cigarettes.”
  But in Ramadan? They go cold turkey from dawn to dusk.

The same goes for Qur’an. A person might read nothing all year, but in Ramadan they finish the entire Qur’an.

Training the Soul

Fasting trains the soul to obey Allah. You’re avoiding things normally halal—like food and drink—because Allah said so.

After Ramadan, avoiding haram becomes easier. Ramadan is about developing taqwa through spiritual training.

What Makes a Ramadan Unforgettable?

Try to remember a Ramadan you’ll never forget. What made it unforgettable?

For most people, it’s tied to Taraweeh:

• A special imam.
• A deep focus.
• Consistent attendance.

But what if that imam isn’t there next year? Will you give up? No. You have to be the one who brings the focus—you extract the benefit, not wait for it.

Behind the Scenes: Life of the Imam

Let me take you backstage—what is Ramadan like for the imam?

• After Fajr: Reviewing Qur’an while everyone else sleeps.
• Daytime: Resting intentionally to preserve energy for night prayers.
• Afternoon: More Qur’an review.
• Iftar: Light meal. If he eats too much, he can’t lead Taraweeh. He might literally vomit—no joke.
• Taraweeh: Complete concentration.
• Post-Taraweeh: Brief rest. Then the cycle continues.

Why? Because the Qur’an is his priority.

Be Like the Imam

Whether you’re leading or not, you can live like the imam.

Let Ramadan become a month of:

• Qur’an
• Discipline
• Du’a
• Intention
• Ibadah

You can even aim to memorize 10 ajza’ this Ramadan. It’s not impossible. People have done it.

Final Thoughts

Don’t be the person who shows up at the airport and says, “I haven’t decided where to go yet.”

If you don’t know your destination, you’ll go nowhere.

Make your intention now. Plan your Ramadan today. Prioritize Qur’an and ibadah above all else. And with Allah’s help, you’ll make this Ramadan unforgettable.

Jazakum Allahu Khayran.
May Allah grant us all a truly epic Ramadan. Ameen.

Related:

Ramadan Duaa Series: The Greatest Delight

5 Duas For Ramadan Therapy | Sh Yahya Ibrahim

The post How to Make this Ramadan Epic | Shaykh Muhammad Alshareef appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.

A plan to train Gaza’s police will reinforce the occupation.

Former PM called for national register and accreditation for imams, sparking backlash from Muslim leaders

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Leading Islamic community groups have condemned Scott Morrison as “deeply ill-informed” and “dangerous” after the former prime minister demanded a national register and accreditation for imams, and expanding foreign interference frameworks to capture foreign links in religious institutions.

The former Liberal leader, speaking at an antisemitism conference in Jerusalem on Tuesday, claimed the measures were needed in the wake of the Isis-inspired Bondi terror shooting at a Hanukah event, which left 15 people dead. Morrison demanded a focus on “radicalised extremist Islam”, noting the two alleged Bondi shooters “were Australian-made” and demanding local Muslim bodies do more to stamp out hate.

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We talk to journalist Ahmed Al-Najjar in Gaza, where harsh conditions and Israeli attacks belie Davos claims that “war” is over. We discuss Trump’s “Board of Peace” and more.

What does every new Imam need to know about being an imam? What do you do if you’re in a small community with minimal resources? How do you manage joining a new community, learning the ropes, and not biting off more than you can chew? In this episode, Sh. Mohammad Elshinawy shares his advice for new imams, community building, and reflections on his own imam experience.

Shaykh Mohammad Elshinawy is a Graduate of English Literature at Brooklyn College, NYC. He studied at College of Hadith at the Islamic University of Madinah and is a graduate and instructor of Islamic Studies at Mishkah University. He has translated major works for the International Islamic Publishing House, the Assembly of Muslim Jurists of America, and Mishkah University.

Related:

Don’t Take For Granted Your Community Imam I Sh. Furhan Zubairi

The Rise of the Scholarly Gig Economy and Fall of Community Development

 

The post [Podcast] The Parts of Being an Imam They Don’t Warn You About | Sh Mohammad Elshinawy appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.