Tag

Lessons


Browsing

Dear Pious Reader,

Can you feel it too? The gentle tug in your heart as Ramadhan slips through our days? Yet even as it departs, there are still blessings waiting to be claimed. As the anchor of Ramadhan is being unanchored, we should, if not must, tighten our belts and hold fast to the remaining blessings of these sacred days.

Let us ask ourselves: how are we planning to end this holy month? Perhaps we have not done our best in the days that have passed. Perhaps we missed Taraweeh, neglected the Qur’an more than we hoped, or held back the charity we intended to give. But Ramadhan is not over yet. The few days that remain could hold blessings worth a thousand years. For, as the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) reminded us, “Verily, the deeds are only judged by their endings.”

The ache we feel in our hearts is not weakness; rather, it is awareness, the soul realizing that something sacred is passing. Ramadhan is guiding us, not because it is done with us, but because it came to show us who we could be. It arrives quietly, rearranging our lives, humbling our bodies so our hearts can attain taqwa, as Allah said, “O you who believe, fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may attain taqwa.”

And for a fleeting, merciful moment, we touch taqwa. Hunger softens us. Thirst disciplines us. The Qur’an speaks to parts of us we have long ignored. In the stillness of the night, when the world turns its back, our foreheads meet the ground, and our tears speak languages our tongues have never learned. Allah affirms this when He says, “Their sides forsake their beds; they call upon their Lord in fear and hope.”

Ramadhan soothes our hearts, stirs the depths of our souls, and proves that discipline is never impossible; closeness to Allah is never reserved for the righteous few. If we can change in these thirty days, then change is always within reach.

But now, dear pious reader, as the ship of Ramadhan prepares to sail beyond our shores, we face the most important question:

Are we passing through Ramadhan as a season, or carrying its transformation forward?

The true loss is not that Ramadhan is passing. The true loss is returning unchanged. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said, “Whoever fasts Ramadhan out of faith and seeking reward, his previous sins will be forgiven.”

So if you stumble in these remaining days, return quickly. If you fall, repent faster. If the fire cools, remember how it once burned. For Allah has not moved; only the moon continues its course.

Let us honor these final days with sincerity, giving our best in prayer, Qur’an, and charity. And let our devotion not end when the month does. Let our days after Ramadhan testify that the lessons, discipline, and closeness we gain are not in vain.

Let our souls live and dwell in the presence of Allah. Let us grow closer, not just for Ramadhan, but for every day until we meet our Creator.

May these remaining days inspire you, dear pious reader, to carry the lessons and blessings of Ramadhan in your heart always.

Until we meet again,

Yours, the Soul Whisperer.

You may read part 1 here

Merely four days after publishing my story, I got the awaited call. There was hope after all. The trip was going to happen. The estimated dates had been communicated. We were indeed going for Umrah, yeeyy!! But there was a catch. Members of the initial group that was to travel had taken a step back. Only two of us were remaining: the chairlady and I. Only the two of us would be going.

There was a pause in my voice, an apparent hesitation. Only two of us?! The structural change was stark. Traveling without a mahram was already a matter of deep contemplation for me, but the presence of a group had felt like an acceptable allowance within Shariah. Now, I was traveling without both that reassurance and a group. I requested some time to think about it, pray about it. The logistics alone felt overwhelming. What if something unexpected happened on the journey? What if we faced confusion or difficulty navigating the crowds alone? But above all, the lingering question that weighed on my conscience was, ‘Will this be displeasing to Allah? The lack of both a mahram and a group?’

I laid down my Muswallah and prayed two rakaats of istikhara. At this point, my head was going in circles. Fear engulfed me. What if I go all the way to Makkah, perform Umrah, and I don’t get the full reward just for this reason?

As I reached for my phone, the notification blinked on the screen; the visa was finally out. For a moment, everything inside me stilled. I just stared, letting the reality sink in. After all the waiting, all the praying, all the back-and-forth of hope and disappointment… the door had finally opened.

I felt a lightness in my chest, almost like a small wave of relief washing over me. Alhamdulilah. This was really happening. I whispered a quiet Thank You to Allah, trying to savour that tiny moment of joy before it slipped away.

But almost immediately after that calm came the familiar tightening in my heart. A quiet nervousness creeping in from the edges. Was this truly the answer to my istikhara? If Allah opened this door in such an unexpected way, what was I meant to understand? Why did my joy feel tangled with fear?

Little by little, the worries began to circle again… the lack of a mahram, the group shrinking to just the two of us, the uncertainty of travelling this way. Happiness, relief, fear, sadness… everything collapsed into each other until I wasn’t sure which feeling belonged where. The trip was now confirmed. I was to travel after one day.

That one day was painfully long. It was mostly me making phone calls to the learned scholars in my circle. What am I to do? The more the answers varied, the more heartbroken I felt. But throughout, my family insisted, ‘You’ve done your bit. You asked. You prayed. You cannot do anything at this point. This is out of your control. Now just tawakkal.’

The morning of the journey, I was a mess. Tears flowing. Heart aching. I make one last call to the ‘Hudaibiyyah’ friend, the same one who reminded me of Hudaibiyyah when my first trip got cancelled. She says to me, “Lubnah, when you prepared so perfectly for this journey, Allah closed that door. Now, when everything is imperfect, is when He’s opened the door. You have to trust there is kheyr in this even when you don’t see it. Rejoice! You’re going for umrah!”

And so I left. Broke. Broken. Tired. Unsure.

This is not how I envisioned my journey. Everything was out of place. And as a perfectionist, nothing tears me down like a messed-up plan. But then I remembered something. Throughout the months leading up to this journey, I prayed a lot about every single aspect of it. Including companionship. I was very specific about what type of companionship I wanted. If this is what Allah has chosen for me, then there must be a reason. A wisdom. A lesson that perhaps I would only learn if we were just the two of us. And boy, oh boy, did I not learn?!

***

Remember when the Chair, my partner, previously warned us that our patience shall be tested? She was absolutely right. It started with the bus trip from Mombasa to Nairobi. What would usually take 8/9 hours took me 12 good, long hours. And I had to keep reminding myself of the verse in Suratul Naml, “This is by the grace of my Lord to test me whether I am grateful or ungrateful. And whoever is grateful, it is only for their own good. But whoever is ungrateful, surely my Lord is Self-Sufficient, Most Generous.” I arrived, exhausted but grateful. Much calmer now.

Our trip to Saudi Arabia was very early the next day, and so before I slept, we had a quick conversation with my partner. We were to enter into the state of ihram before we left home, since we’d pass the miqaat while on air. Okay? Okay. I’ve got this.

I knew I’d got this because do you know how many videos of Umrah I had watched? Many, simply too many. I was sure I’d got this. The next morning, I got ready, went into the state of ihram and set off to the airport. On the way, my cousin asks me casually, ‘And so which soap did you use since scented ones are not permitted in Ihram?’ And I…

HOW ON EARTH DID I FORGET THAT?

Yep, not only did I use a scented soap. I forgot to wash my hair too 🥲

Listeeeen, nothing bothers an anxious person than being an inconvenience to someone else. Now, how was I going to break the news to my partner? 🥲 Mind you, this is someone I’d just met once before the Umrah trip plans, and talked only a couple of times. Yep, I hated myself in that moment.

When I told her though, she simply suggested I check whether I can do the ghusl in one of the washrooms within the airport. But due to a lack of water, that was not possible. We had to change our plans entirely. We’d get to our hotel, I’d redo the process, then go to Masjid Aisha as our new miqaat location, then leave for Makkah. She was calm and graceful about it in a way that I was so grateful for.

When we were at the airport in Saudi now buying SIM cards, and they couldn’t get my fingerprints due to sweat. The man kept telling me to wipe my hands, but it was simply not working. They brought the tissues, they even brought a small fan in front of me lol but my hands just wouldn’t cooperate. The man looks at me and says, “You need to relax. Relax…” In my mind, I’m like, ‘Yeah. So easy for you to say!’ But my tongue utters something else, “It’s my first time here.” I chuckle softly. “Ohh! Most welcome!… Let’s use your sister’s fingerprints then.” And so we do.

We get to the hotel. We do our thing. But of course, me being me, I just had to, I just had to! mess it around a little bit more 😄

JUST as we were about to leave the hotel room, both of us already in our abayas, genius me said to myself, “I’m going to talk to my Lord. I need to freshen up my mouth again.” And yep! I went for the flavoured, scented toothpaste. When I was done, I casually asked my partner, “BY THE WAY, is this okay?” My goodness. Next, we were quickly Google searching on the permissibility of scented/flavoured toothpastes, SMH. Some say it is disliked, some say it is okay. Most suggest miswak as that is the safest. All in all, at least it not haraam. Phew, alhamdulilah. My partner says to me, “Remember, Allah does not expect or require perfection from you. All He looks at is your effort. You’ve put in the effort, leave the rest to Him.” And throughout the journey, that’s something she frequently reminded me about. Allah does not expect perfection. Just sincere effort.

By the time we got to Masjid Al Haram, it was already Asr time. The lower floor, which leads directly to the Kaabah, was already full, so we moved to the first floor. The place is too crowded, it feels like the entire Ummat Muhammad is there, subhanallah. I was overwhelmed; I couldn’t even fully comprehend what was going on. We got a place to sit, and it wasn’t until I heard the familiar adhan, the adhan we’d heard over and over again since childhood, on our TVs, that it struck me hard. I’m here. I’m truly here. I am in Makkah. The Kaabah is just a few steps away from me. The tears flow naturally. It feels like a dream. I am here.

After the prayers, we join the flock of pilgrims on the lower floor to start our Umrah by doing tawaf. As we were entering the lower ground of the masjid towards the Kaabah, the voices of the guards echoed, “Yallah ya Hajjiyah! Yallah ya Hajji!” The constant call to “Move, pilgrim! Move, pilgrim!” was meant to control the dense crowd. On our way, we meet several groups heading in the same direction.

In my head, my favourite nasheed, ‘Ilahy Wasi’ul Karami’ by Yusuf Ayub, played. I had always daydreamed about approaching the Kaabah while this nasheed played, and in this moment, the lyrics perfectly described my state:

إلهي واسع الكرم وربُّ البيت والحرم

My God, Most Vast in Generosity, Lord of the House and the Sacred Sanctuary,

إليك أتيت منكسرًا متيبًا أغيّر القدم

To You I have come broken, weary, my steps weak and unsteady.

أُبدي طمعًا وجَلًا ويهيف خاطري وفمي

I show my hope and my fear before You, and my heart and tongue tremble.

لله الحمد انتهت بي لما أوليت من نعم

All praise belongs to God, who brought me here after all the blessings He granted me.

ضيوفك بالحُصَى نزَلوا بخير الأشهر الحُرم

Your guests have arrived with the pebbles (of Ihram), during the best and sacred months.

وجئتُك في ركائبهم إلى بردِ المتابِ ظمي

And I have come with them on their mounts, thirsty for the coolness of repentance.

The nasheed described my heart as “broken” and “trembling,” and that was the truest description of my state. My body felt physically unsteady, mirroring my spiritual vulnerability. Yet, the lyrics provided solace: I was before the “Most Vast in Generosity,” and He had brought me here despite my faults. My need for perfection was irrelevant; only His vast grace mattered.

And finally, there it was, the magnificent Kaabah right in front of me. Before I could savour its beauty, the crowd pushed me forward. I didn’t get a moment to pause. To let the moment sink in. To absorb this beautiful moment.

For me, it wasn’t a grand, beautiful moment like most people describe it on Instagram. I was overwhelmed. The place was full to the brim. I felt like I was being taken on a wave, just floating around, as we are pushed around. You know how, when you see a flock of sheep and it just seems like they are just going aimlessly? It felt like that, only that this was the tawaf. Everyone knew the direction they were headed to, but that’s simply what it felt like for me. Like I’ve been abducted by some Turkish aunties, and I’m circling around the Kaabah with them lol.

My partner and I realize we need to do something. We tie our hijabs and hold each other’s hands tightly. A man near us starts reciting dua loudly, as his what I assume to be his group mates respond to the dua. I looked around. All kinds of people. All colours of people. One minute we were with the Turkish group, next were among another South Asian, probably Malay group. It was indescribable, the feeling of witnessing all these nationalities, races, individuals, each with their own story, subhanallah. All here simply for one reason. To worship Allah. The weight of it all hit me once again. And then I cried and cried and cried. My partner heard my sobs and tightened her hand. It was a lot. I felt so overwhelmed, but also, so so emotional. So grateful.

Sometimes I would be so lost in the intimacy of my own dua, when suddenly a wave of sound would break my concentration: a powerful, soulful dua recited loudly by a stranger nearby. It was impossible not to stop and listen, my own whispers fading as I paused, feeling compelled to join the chorus, thinking, “Let me say ameen to these beautiful duas first.”😄

We move from one ritual to the other, then to the Sa’y, which felt like the hardest of all subhanallah. The walk between Safa and Marwa was so humbling. You see all kinds of people walking back and forth; some in crutches, some in wheelchairs, some very old, some very young, some with visible physical deformities, some young, strong and fit. You get to appreciate your health, your youth, your strength, and above all, contemplate on our mother, Hajar and her journey.

For the next few days, our life revolved around Masjid Al Haram and its environs. And what a pleasure, what an honour, to just stand behind Imams we’ve longed to hear in real life, to gaze at the Kaabah late into the night, to have solitude with Allah that we’ve always craved for, to meet so many lovely souls within the Haram. It was during this period that we met a friend of my partner, a Ugandan lady who was an inspiring, joyful soul and an activist. Her presence added a vibrant, familiar energy to our quieter routines in the Holy Lands. We had such wholesome and intriguing conversations with her, ranging from the Umrah experiences to Palestine and world injustices, to shared views on community upliftment. Her perspective, rooted in both faith and practical action, was a quiet inspiration. These unexpected meetings, though brief, reinforced the core lesson that Allah had chosen this specific, small company, including my partner and her friends, for my journey.

But above all, the greatest lessons were found in the day-to-day reality of living with my partner, which became yet another profound journey of learning for me.

***

Look, they’re not wrong. There are two kinds of people on this earth: me and my partner.She’s naturally outgoing, bubbly, effortlessly friendly, the kind of person who starts conversations with strangers in a queue and somehow walks away having made a friend. She’s bold, brave, and courageous, always ready to face whatever comes her way with a fearless heart.And then there’s me. A little quieter, a little more cautious. The observer. The overthinker. Gentle, soft-hearted, always careful about the next move.Even our food orders tell the story. Her plate is full of colour , greens, olives, and all things fresh, nourishing, and wholesome. Mine? Small portions of junk, whatever comfort food I can get my hands on. She takes life in strides, saying “Whatever happens, happens” with a calmness and groundedness I quietly admire. Meanwhile, I try to control every tiny detail, like peace depends on it. I don’t flow with life as easily, I wade through it with intention and constant questions.

I remember one afternoon, she bought me a Matcha. Very confidently, she said, “This slaaaps! You’ll love it!” I took the first sip and exclaimed, “Oh my God! They were right! This tastes like graaasss!” And we burst into laughter.See? Two kinds of people.You may call us the dynamic duo 😄

And so, very quickly, we learnt how widely different we are. Yet one thing connected us. One thing remained true: we are both striving souls, both seeking the pleasure of Allah, both deep in understanding the human psychology, both passionate about the pen and ink. And so we slowly learnt how to adjust to one another, accommodate one another, but most importantly, give each other grace. For someone who truly embodied the Islamic lifestyle, from her clothing to eating to health care to parenting to prophetic medicine, there was so much inspiration and wisdom I acquired from her.

I vividly remember one morning when I was so in my head. I had prayed istikhara about a matter and was just thinking about it privately as I hadn’t yet shared it with my partner. We were heading for breakfast when she started telling a story. I don’t even know how that conversation started, but she started sharing an experience she had had with a friend and what she’d advised her in that moment. As I kept listening, I could feel the goosebumps on my body. Her friend’s situation was quite exactly the same as mine. And there it was, the answer to my istikhara. Subhanallah. What are the odds? For me, it honestly felt like she was my Khidr, my teacher, in this journey.

We had many deep, eye-opening conversations throughout the journey, which made me realize why exactly Allah chose this trip for us together. Despite our differing approaches, our values, principles, and faith are well-aligned, and we shared the same deep aspirations in Deen. We focused on gently navigating our differences, both between us and with other people along the way, while simultaneously strengthening our shared purpose. Through this, we slowly learnt how to adjust to and accommodate one another, but most importantly, to give each other grace. As she would sometimes say to me, “Lubnah, this is marriage!” highlighting how individuals with good intentions may vastly differ in behaviour, personality, and mindset. This revealed the deeper dynamic of all relationships and the commitment required to make them work.

And so throughout the journey, the repeated theme was grace. Grace, grace, grace. And it was so beautiful and even comforting to experience and witness.

***

On our last night in Makkah, we headed for Qiyam. The distance between the bus stop and the masjid was quite a bit, so we trudged on, half asleep. My partner was listening to a voice note she’d received, when she started nudging me gently with her hand. “What’s wrong?” I asked. She kept listening, her hand still nudging mine, and soon she was in tears. “I’m fine,” she murmured between sobs. I knew she was undergoing a distressful stress during this trip, and I truly admired how she handled the entire matter with such calm and composure. We held each other tightly as she went on weeping. Finally, she managed to speak: “I prayed to Allah for a sign of His pleasure regarding my patience, and He has answered me! He has done it for me!” Goosebumps spread all over me as she narrated the news she’d just received. My heart just melted at how merciful Allah is, how good our Lord is. As she kept sobbing, we paused walking, embracing tighter, right under the last third of the night light. My heart was in awe with our Lord. Oh how generous our Lord is, subhanallah!

We then proceeded to do tawaf. The tahajjud gang was already there, so it was quite packed, subhanallah. We held each other’s hands and started circumambulating around the Kaabah. As we kept being moved by the crowd, at some point we found ourselves right at Maqam Ibrahim, and we were able to look at it closely, albeit in a minute and touch it, alhamdulilah. We then proceeded around. To be honest, for all the times we’d done tawaf, there was no way we could have touched the Kaabah. It was simply too packed, and we were just limited as two ladies surrounded by masculine men. But then at some point, almost in a miraculous way, I noticed an opening on my left side; there it was, right in front of me, just an empty space in the direction of the Kaaba. I turned to my partner, “Look! We have a chance!” She nodded, and we proceeded to move closer and closer to it. Wallahy at that moment, I just felt that that was Allah’s mercy. Cause of how people were moving, that space just appeared out of nowhere. It was like people literally made space for us, subhanallah.

So we inched closer and closer until we reached like three lines away from it. Now that was where the tug of war was happening. Everyone was scrambling to touch the Kaaba. A lady was groaning in front of us; you could see she was literally suffocating, trying to find her way out. Another Egyptian woman was stuck to the Kaaba, crying, not budging despite all the push and pull. And as my younger sister said when she heard the story, all that scrambling I’ve done with matatus back home had been preparing me for this moment 😂 I pushed myself harder into the crowd. I stretched my hand. I widened my fingers apart trying to touch the Kaaba. It was so so close. So close, but my hand was short. My partner, who’s taller than me, tried to pull my hand closer, and she kept doing that until we both finally touched the Kaaba. And that moment was so surreal, so emotional. I couldn’t hold myself back and just started sobbing, my weeping clear to the people next to me. And I cried my heart out on that wondrous night. And this night became the most favourite part of my journey. So surreal. So profound.

***

That evening we set out to Madina, only to find that all trains had been cancelled due to another train malfunction. We found ourselves in a five-hour long drive to Madina. We arrived exhausted, but excited. The heart singing, “Qalby fil Madina”.

Madina was just….beautiful. It is crowded too, but there’s just some different air to it. It’s slower paced. Less noisy. Less people. Just the place to find the solace you’ve been longing for.

Outside our hotel we could directly see Mount Uhud. It is humongous! I was mind blown by it and my partner reminded me of that hadith on following a funeral procession:

Allah’s Messenger (ﷺ) said, “(A believer) who accompanies the funeral procession of a Muslim out of sincere faith and hoping to attain Allah’s reward and remains with it till the funeral prayer is offered and the burial ceremonies are over, he will return with a reward of two Qirats. Each Qirat is like the size of the (Mount) Uhud. He who offers the funeral prayer only and returns before the burial, will return with the reward of one Qirat only.”

You guyysss, if you knew how bigggg that mount is, I don’t think any of us would miss a salatul janazah. And to think of how the prayer itself takes less than five minutes? I was mind blown!

There was just so much peace in Madina. Especially the Fajr hours, and you get to witness the amazing sunrise and the beautiful ‘umbrellas’ unfolding simultaneously.

It was quite heartbreaking to not have had a chance to go to the Rawdha. Due to the quick plans, we only got to be in the waitlist. I still joined the line in an attempt for another miracle 😄 But yeah, the guard wouldn’t hear it. I felt that kiaziiii 💔 It was heartbreaking. But then, I felt like I had no right to complain at all. Many things didn’t turn out as we initially anticipated, many places we didn’t get to go. We also didn’t get to visit Quba, or any of the other surrounding places. We didn’t do much of anything much beyond the Haram and our hotel room. The time was short and many things were not in our control, but Alhamdulilah for every blessing. This was simply not my night at the Rawdha. Maybe not the trip to explore all the towns and their deep histories. This trip simply felt like an intimate moment with my Lord with lessons to be learnt throughout the journey.

Leaving the town to get back home was quite heavy. You feel like you’re leaving home. It reminds you why this experience is so wholesome so fulfilling, cause we get to do what we were created for; worship Allah in the most sincere of ways.

Despite all the words I’ve written, nothing can truly capture the feeling, the emotion, and the deep peace that comes with being in the Holy Lands. It’s an experience I pray to have again and again. And I pray that you, dear reader, along with every soul yearning and preparing for this journey, get to feel it over and over, surrounded by your loved ones, in good health and high spirits. Ameen.

I want to take this moment to thank each and every one of you who made dua for me when the first trip didn’t happen. Many do not know, but this was the third time this trip had been rearranged. Those duas went a long way, and alhamdulilah Allah finally made it happen. May Allah surprise you all with a similar joy of a more beautiful Umrah and Hajj ya Rab.

This trip was far from being perfect. But the clear message, the clear lesson from Allah throughout this journey is that He doesn’t want our perfection. He wants our sincerity. Our effort. Our striving. Almost like He is saying, “Come as you are beloved servant. Come tired. Come broken. Come broke. Simply come. We’ll receive you as you are.”

May Allah accept our Umrah, our broken efforts, our imperfect ibadah, our desperate duas in the most beautiful way. And for my sister, whom Allah intentionally chose as my partner in this journey, may Allah elevate your status both in this life and the next. Nothing happens by chance with Allah, and you became a beautiful part of my destiny, of my most beautiful journey yet. Thank you immensely for your kindness, generosity and companionship. Barakallahu feeki.

To my favourite stranger, the kind soul who made the payment that confirmed this entire journey: May Allah reward you beyond measure for your generosity and trust. May my humble efforts during this trip produce a ripple effect of reward for you and your family, ameen.

Above all, the greatest blessing of this experience is that the journey itself was the answer to a persistent dua. Additionally, the family mission mentioned in Part I happened, alhamdulilah, by Allah’s overwhelming mercy and grace. The greatest lesson of all was that when we turn to Him with sincerity, He takes care of the details. His promise remains true:

وَلَسَوۡفَ يُعۡطِيكَ رَبُّكَ فَتَرۡضَىٰٓ

And ˹surely˺ your Lord is going to give you, and you will be satisfied.

Allahu Akbar!

***

Alhamdulilah by the mercy and grace of Allah, my blog ‘Strokes of my Pen’ (Lubnah) has been nominated for the BAKE (Bloggers Association of Kenya) Awards- Creative Writing Creator Awards. Please take a moment to vote:
1️⃣ Visit vote.bakeawards.co.ke
2️⃣ Enter your Name, Email & Phone Number
3️⃣ Select your preferred creators
4️⃣ Verify your vote via email using the code sent
5️⃣ Submit!

The voting deadline has been extended to 11th December, 2025. Thank you for your precious time!

*For latest stories and articles, please click on the ‘Subscribe’ button at the bottom of the page 😊

Exactly 31 nights ago, on October 6th, I stood outside Terminal 2 at Moi International Airport, hugging my father goodbye as I waited to board my Jambojet flight. “Forgive me, Baba,” I murmured, feeling a lump in my throat. “Hmm, I have to think about it,” he laughed. “Listen, once you get there, make sure you find a way to fulfill what we asked you to do,” he reminded me of the important family mission I was tasked with once I arrived in Saudi Arabia. I nodded silently. “Let me check in.”

“It’s too early,” my brother said. 

“I know, but if I stay out here, I’ll start crying. I just want to go in.” My sister laughed as my patriarchs shook their heads. They nodded and each gave me one last hug.

As I walked inside, my brother followed, trying to help me load my luggage into the baskets. They stood there until I disappeared through the doors at the far end. Once I finally sat down, I called my mother to let her know I had checked in. She made dua for me and wished me a safe journey. That’s when the lump in my throat finally broke. I let the tears flow freely. My reality felt surreal. I was going for Umrah. Me? My good Lord. How incredible that this seemingly distant dream was finally coming true!

This very moment was a manifestation of a miracle, an answered dua, a subsequent heartbreak, and one of the most important lessons I had to learn in my life.

***

The first time I seriously began making dua for Umrah and Hajj was in 2023, after taking the ‘Raise Your Dua’ course with Shaykh Muhammad Al Shariff. Before that, I would merely daydream and make dua for a visit to the Holy Lands in passing. But after the course, this specific dua became one of my six dream duas, the ones I would repeat during sujood, when it rained, when the masjid was empty at my workplace, and in the quiet moments when I conversed with my Lord. From then on, this dream became an obsession; I posted so much about it that my friends would often reply with duas for me to make it to those blessed lands.

Towards the end of 2024, on December 23rd, I posted a story on my Instagram, a reel of Makkah, with the caption: “Dear 2025, surprise me with an Umrah trip.” I reposted it with my own caption: “Dear LORD of 2025,” but like many similar posts, I didn’t put much thought into it.

In early January, a wonderful sister, herein referred to as ‘Chairlady’ or ‘Chair,’ posted about an Umrah trip for women, and my heart immediately melted. I jokingly said, “Nibebeeeee hata kwa hendbeg,” (insert crying emoji). She laughed and replied, “Listen to me: make dua. How it happens? Leave it to Allah,” reminding me that for Allah, nothing is impossible. I quickly forgot about the conversation, though I continued my dua as usual.

About five months later, the Chairlady posted something along the lines of, “There’s a sister I talked to about Umrah some time ago, and she said she couldn’t afford the trip. If that sister is you, please DM me; I have a sponsor for you.” I must have reread that story a million times, trying to comprehend what she was saying. My heart raced, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. With shaky hands, I texted her, asking if she was referring to me or someone else. If it was someone else, I requested her to consider me for the next sponsorship opportunity.

I vividly remember sitting with my sisters on the floor during lunch, completely distracted. Finally, I received a response: “Luby! It’s you!!! I had forgotten who I had that conversation with, but it’s you!” I stood up quickly, leaving my sisters puzzled by my sudden movement. “What’s wrong?” they asked. I stayed quiet, my hands shaking intensely, struggling to find my voice. “Check whether your passport is valid and let me know right away.”

I walked into my mum’s room, half-smiling and half-teary. “Ma, where’s my passport?” I asked. “Why do you need it?” she replied. “I need to check something real quick.” She pointed to the drawer where the passport was stored. I quickly opened it, and lo and behold, it was valid! “What is it?” my mum asked again. “I…I…” The words just wouldn’t come out. “I got…a free…Umrah ticket.” Tears started to flow. “Allahu akbar! Mabrukk!” I hugged my parents tightly. “Why are you crying, though? You should be happy,” my dad said, typical of his old-fashioned responses. “It’s tears of joy,” I muttered between gasps for breath.

I then walked into the kitchen where my sisters were still eating, trying to gather myself. “I got a free Umrah ticket,” I announced. In an instant, their surprise transformed into shared joy, and we all began to cry. “Allahu akbar. Alhamdulillah.” Our gratitude and awe overwhelmed us, leaving us with little more to say. My mum quickly called my other sister and brother; with each new congratulation, my emotions deepened, and I began to sob even harder.

I never thought something this extraordinary could happen to me. It wasn’t that I doubted Allah’s ability; I just never expected to be so blessed myself. I cried and cried, amazed at how a casual conversation had turned into a realized dream. How could a stranger, who knew nothing about me, become the means of this miracle? Subhanallah, the subtle ways Allah arranges our affairs left me astounded. Grateful and still trembling with excitement, I shared with the lovely sister, “How am I supposed to live the next five months now?! I feel like I won’t be able to do anything but wait excitedly.” We shared a laugh, excited for the incredible trip that lay ahead of us.

The very first thing I did, as I awaited official confirmation of the trip, was buy a small A6 notebook for my duas. My first entry was a seven-page dua specifically for the Umrah, praying for it to actually happen, for energy and health, for ideal weather, for good companionship on the journey, and for answered prayers; you name it. Slowly but surely, I wrote down other duas over the months. I spoke to Allah more often, requesting Him to forgive me and make me worthy of this trip. I was very conscious not to sin or make any mistakes that would make me unworthy of it all. I poured my entire heart into it, painting a vivid picture of the kind of experience I wished for. That became my mantra for the next few months.

Next, I bought comfortable shoes and increased my daily step target. I wanted to be not just ready, but perfectly ready for this journey of a lifetime. Every morning, I would go to the tallest building at our workplace and walk up and down the steep staircase. If I didn’t have enough time for that morning routine, I’d try to make it up throughout the day. I wanted to get accustomed to the long walks around the Haram and Medina, and to be fit for it. I was determined; I wasn’t about to take this lifetime trip lightly.

Next, I started by watching umrah tutorials, learning about the do’s and don’ts, the best duas to recite, where to do laundry, and which apps would be useful. I downloaded the Nusuk and HHR train apps, even though it felt ridiculously early to do so. And, as we all know how Instagram picks up on our conversations, my feed and Explore page quickly filled with umrah-related reels and posts.

Also, in preparation for my trip to Madina, I began watching the Umar ibn Khattab series, as recommended by our Chair. This helped me better understand the locations we would be touring. I have heard so much about the tranquility and peace of Madina; Aaahhh! I truly couldn’t wait!

Then, I made a list of all the items I would need for my journey and began ticking them off one by one. At that time, everything revolved around umrah. All my conversations with my sisters and loved ones focused on the things I needed to get or do for the trip. It got to the point where I would say, “Aaah, look,” and my sisters would laugh and say, “For umrah, right?”

During this period, one frequent dua I made was for abundance, so I could comfortably prepare for and enjoy the trip. Subhanallah, Allah, the Most Generous, delivverreeeed! Miracles were unfolding right before my eyes. I was getting gigs left and right, and money was coming from unexpected places. Allah was facilitating every need, want, and wish. I was awed and deeply touched by Allah’s kindness towards me. It was really happening!

I remember about a month before the trip, I opened my suitcase and started packing small items one at a time. My younger sister, who had a journey coming up, laughed and said, “My trip is one week away, and I haven’t packed yet. Yours is a month away, and you’re already at it. Truly, there are two kinds of people in this world.” It’s no secret that I’m the ultimate planner, but trust me when I say I was still arranging my bag right up until the very last day. I wanted everything to be perfect. Typical, I know.

Despite my overwhelming excitement and extensive preparations over the months, I still hadn’t received official confirmation for the trip, which made me feel a bit nervous about whether it would go through. However, once it was confirmed, I couldn’t hide my joy any longer. Maybe I overdid it, but honestly, no one could comprehend how excited I was. This was about a month before the journey, and so I began texting my friends, loved ones, and everyone who had once carried my list of duas, eagerly telling them, “It’s now my turn to make dua for you in the blessed lands.”

I also informed my co-workers and asked for their forgiveness as I continued collecting duas. I ended up gathering over 50 pages of everyone’s duas. I know, I know lol, it seems like I was doing the most 😀 But guys! I was not about to be stingy with my prayers!

That night, as I nervously boarded my first plane to Nairobi, I whispered my last-minute duas, asking for this journey to be a positive turning point in my life. The one-hour flight passed quickly, and we soon landed at our destination.

As I was removing my backpack from the overhead compartment, my lovely sister, our Chairlady, called me. “Luby, did you see the texts?” I told her I had just landed and hadn’t read them yet. She then said something that left me speechless: “The agents said the system has been down, and they were unable to acquire the visas for us. Let me send an Uber to pick you up and bring you to my home.” Honestly, I don’t remember what I answered; my mind just went blank. I didn’t know what to think, say, or feel. My thoughts raced during the ride through the night.

I kept reminding myself of the words our Chairlady had said during the months of preparation: “Such spiritual trips always come with tests. No matter how much experience you have visiting the Holy lands, you will always be tested in one way or another. Be mentally prepared for that and be very patient with whatever comes.” I thought to myself, “Aha, this is what she was talking about. The tests have started. But we must stay optimistic. We must be patient.”

Our group chat was lighting up with messages expressing confusion, shock, and reminders to exercise patience and make dua. Our trip was scheduled to start at 2 AM that same night, and we all kept hoping for a miracle to happen at the last minute.

When I arrived, our Chairlady welcomed me with a long hug and a nervous laugh. The night felt long as we tried to make sense of what was happening, embracing the uncertainty and remaining patient as Allah’s plan unravelled.

The next morning, we gathered with our fellow sisters in our team. We poured our hearts out amid the chaos, reassuring each other that this was merely a phase. Allah is testing us, but He is planning something better for us. We constantly reminded one another, “Qadar Allahu wa ma sha’a fa’al” (Allah has decreed, and whatever He wills, He does).

I remember our Chair stating, “I wholeheartedly believe that there is a reason behind this delay, and Allah will reveal it to us eventually.” I added, “That’s true, but sometimes Allah tests us without providing closure. If that closure doesn’t come, that’s a test too, whether we will trust Him regardless.” For the next few days, Allah tested me on my own words.

Amidst apologies from the agents, confusion, and unclear next steps, we had no option but to wait. This became the most dreadful wait of my life.

My family and close friends continuously checked on me, sending encouraging words and beautiful reminders of Allah’s plan and the khayr in all delays. During this time, I stayed with my two lovely cousin sisters, who went above and beyond to accommodate me, comfort me, and cheer me up.

All the while, my heart was crumbling. I kept desperately speaking to Allah, saying, “Ya Allah, there must be a reason why You brought me to Nairobi. I didn’t leave home and arrive here for no reason. I know there must be a purpose. Please reveal it to me.”

For many years, I had wanted the opportunity to go to Nairobi for one significant mission in my life. When my trip brought me to a halt there, I thought maybe this was my chance; perhaps Allah wanted me to fulfill my mission. But that door was also tightly closed. It was painful trying to understand, “Why am I here then?!”, to accept and fully trust His plan. As much as I tried to smile, inside, my heart was falling apart.

At that time, despite the delay, we still held onto hope that we would be able to recover our money, obtain our visas, and travel immediately to salvage the remaining bookings we still had. So, the waiting continued. I kept myself busy by meeting old friends, spending time with my sister in law and beautiful nieces, and admiring the stunning purple Jacaranda trees outside the house; anything to keep my mind occupied.

I also had the chance to meet a lovely revert sister whom I had been in contact with for two years but had never met in person. It was such an emotional meeting for both of us. We talked, we cried (yes, she’s a crybaby, just like me), we hugged like we’d known each other forever. My cousin later told me, “Maybe your stay in Nairobi was for this reason: this beautiful meetup.” And you know what? Maybe, maybe she’s the sole reason I stayed in Nairobi. I was destined to meet this beautiful, beautiful soul, Allahumma bareek! Allah knows best, you know?

By the fifth day, as I sat at the dinner table with my two cousins, our Chair sent a voice note. As I listened, my heart raced. We had reached a dead end with the visas and had to cancel the trip while they sought legal ways to resolve the matter. I couldn’t pinpoint when the tears began to fall, but I remember the dreadful feeling of my heart sinking. What followed were the longest nights of my life. I used to think I understood what heartbreak was, but this? This was on another level. It was undoubtedly the most painful heartbreak I had ever experienced. Even as my loving cousins comforted me with Allah’s words and I recognized the truth in what they said, my heart felt like it was crumbling like a wet cookie; I was devastated.

Of course, the shaytan thrives in moments of brokenness. I began to descend into a dark rabbit hole of overthinking. Did I do something to cause Allah to take this away from me? The umrah I had waited and prayed for years for, the important family mission in Saudi Arabia, the significant personal mission in Nairobi, it felt like all the doors had not just been closed but slammed shut right in my face.

I didn’t know how to process the heavy feeling, the sadness, the grief, and the shock. How was I supposed to return to normal life after this?

I travelled back home two days later with a heavy heart, but I was glad to embrace my parents once again. However, one more major plan for the end of October also fell apart painfully. Honestly, it was a humbling moment.

The biggest lesson I learned from this experience is that, once again, I am NOT in control. Despite all the preparation I put into this trip, ultimately, it is Allah’s plan that prevails. And that plan? You have to trust it blindly, even when you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, even when it doesn’t make sense, and even when you don’t understand why things had to happen the way they did.

This situation reminds me of the quote: “The universe will give you the same lesson in different forms until you master it.”

As someone who continually struggles with letting fate unfold as it comes, this was a stark reminder for me.

Above all, I kept reminding myself of my sister, our Chair, who faced an even greater challenge in losing all her bookings and tickets. She was placed in a situation that no leader or person ever wishes to be in. Whenever I thought about my own grief, I had to remind myself of hers. Yet despite everything, I found her to be resilient, patient, and firm, with unwavering faith. Alhamdulillah ala kul hal. May Allah reward her abundantly for her patience and compensate her for every heartbreak, every tear, every pain and worry and every penny she lost, ameen. Please take a moment to make dua for her, and for the other sisters in our group who also underwent this heartbreaking experience. May we all be compensated with what is better in all ways, ameen.

One of my dear friends (God bless her beautiful soul), who helped me extensively in preparing for my journey, reminded me of the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and his companions set out for Makkah to perform Umrah, but they were turned away when they were so close to the sacred land and instructed to return the following year. Despite this setback, Allah reassured them, describing that moment in the Qur’an as “a clear victory.”

This experience felt like my own Hudaybiyyah moment. Although I didn’t arrive in Makkah for Umrah, I underwent a different kind of pilgrimage in my heart. It’s a comforting perspective to hold.

It’s been 31 nights, and my suitcase still sits across my bed, mostly unpacked. My Nusuk app is still on. Umrah content still fills my Instagram explore page. Some may say it is denial. Some may say it is hope. I don’t really know where to place it; maybe somewhere in between the two. I really don’t know. In shaa Allah kheyr. In shaa Allah, it shall be well.

***

P.S. Regardless of everything that has happened, I will always be grateful to the stranger, my favourite stranger, who sponsored this trip for me. I also want to thank our Chair, whom Allah chose to be the reason I received this opportunity. I am deeply appreciative of my cousins, my sister in law, my closest friends, my loved ones, and my entire family, who went above and beyond to support me during this challenging time. May Allah bless you all in ways that will truly astonish everyone on this earth and in the heavens. Ameen.

P.S. 2: As I continued to navigate through this storm, my elder sister sent me a beautiful and soothing series on the Names of Allah by Ustadh Hisham Abu Yusuf. It has been a profound and timely reminder for me. I realize that to find peace of mind amidst life’s challenges, we first need to deeply comprehend who Allah truly is. I share this with you in the hope that it comforts you just as it has been comforting to me: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSFZjjKC3qPYGLinbi1XurRSC3izxodtC

Photo Courtesy: drew.edu

On the day of my graduation, I met a university colleague just outside the compound while I was still in my gown. She congratulated me before asking what I had gotten in my results. The moment I told her it was a first class honors, she jumped with excitement and exclaimed, ‘eish!! First class na huringi?!!’ I laughed at this yet it made me wonder, what do people exactly expect from you after getting first class? Walk with head held very high and maybe start glaring at people from head to toe or write it on all walls, chant it like it is a magic spell, stop strangers on the road and tell them about my result or perhaps wear a placard that says ‘I have a first class’?? 😀
My classmate later on asked me what my feeling was for my achievement and I said, ‘I am just grateful and happy’ then when she realized how it wasn’t such a big deal for me she went on, ‘Ah you are a genius that’s why.’ Lol again, no, I was never a genius. I very well remember getting 7/30 in my CATS, getting a few C’s in my final exams, panicking like a freak just before ALL my exams for not having read enough, without forgetting those assignments I terribly failed and literally had to ask the lecturers to make me understand how they were awarding marks. And no, I never cheated in my exams to get my first class. Perhaps this is where we say, ‘where there is a will there is a way.’ Sometimes, no I mean always, all you gotta do is work hard and put your entire faith in God with the belief that He will never let you fail when you have done your very best.

So a pal who is still in university requested that I write about how one can work through challenges in university; both in academics and social life and the laziness, so as to get first class. Perhaps he too thought I am among the nerds who used to trans-night to study while my legs shoved in cold water and a very large cup of coffee beside me to keep me awake. Well, there is no single night I stayed awake throughout just to read nor was I in the library 24/7 exploring all the books in there. I believe so many factors are to be considered here; like what course you are taking, your IQ, your suitable studying technique and your social circle in university. As much as I made it through, there are a few things I wish I had been told, advised and warned about university life before hand that would have made it an easier path to walk through.

But even before we start on the topic, I’d like to re-tell what one of my lecturers said during his first class. ‘When you finish university, you leave with one of these four things: your certificate, real life-long friends, a spouse/partner or a baby/AIDS. Sometimes you leave with more than one and sometimes you leave with none. You decide what you want to have’ Perhaps this was the best advice we got as starters for we realized the importance of being focused from the very first time you join university.

1. There is difference between hard work and being a genius: Something very important for you as a student is to know where you lie in the IQ chart. Some people are geniuses, some are just hard working while some, are a powerful combination of the two. Well, unfortunately not all of us are born geniuses and we had to struggle to get to our goals. DO NOT compare yourself with someone else and DO NOT imitate their studying styles. I very well remember my only other mate who got a first class like me would not start a 10 paged assignment until the night before and he would still score very well or sometimes better than all of us mashallah while someone like me would start the same assignment two weeks ago and still get the same marks like him. To top it up, even while doing his work overnight, he would still do it comfortably with no fuss or worry while I would still be panicking to the very last second before submitting my work. SO do not look around and comfort your poor soul that so and so too hasn’t started his/her work. ‘I am not alone.’ No buddy, you are very much alone. You are on your own in this so know where you stand in the IQ list and how to do your work in the best way possible. And perhaps you already know that you are not a genius and need to work extra hard and just taking it easy. Well, you can forget about the first class then.
P.S. Even the geniuses have to put in effort to succeed, only that the amount of effort is what differs with each individual.

2. Studying style also differs with different people: Some students have to regularly re-read the same topics again and again before grasping it, some can just read a topic once and that is enough to make them get the A’s, some can just listen to the teacher keenly and that’s it, some need to listen to the teacher and also read a bit, some can stay without ever attending class but still study on their own and still succeed, some work best with cramming, some just have to trans-night before the exam day and they are good to go, some entirely depend on cheating while some have to do a combination of ALL the mentioned; read, re-read, listen to the teacher, cram, trans-night every night and cheat on top of it so as to succeed. Well cheating is really never going to get you anywhere because as far as you get in life, the effects of the cheating will appear in the shoddy work you will do in your job. So get to know what studying style suits your IQ and your course of course (as explained below).

3. Your studying style should consider your course: Of course the studying style for a medicine or architectural student can not be the same with the one for an art student. This is because the level of academic pressure differs to far extents. For other courses, theory is much more while in others, it is the practicals. Like for the journalism course that I was taking, our theory notes were just countable pages yet most units needed practical projects, assignments and exams. So you get to know where to put your greater focus on and as you’ve noticed all these 3 points inter-connect i.e. your IQ, your studying style and your course come hand in hand.

4. When the lecturer asks whether you want group work, be the first one to scream a ‘NO’ If possible, take a speaker and shout it out. Write it on the board in Red, Bold and Capital letters. Not unless you are one of those who like taking advantage of group work, you will totally agree with me that group work is annoying, irritating, time wasting and most of the time all the pile of work ends up being done by one or two people. To make it worse, sometimes you end up submitting very messy disorganized work done last minute. Well, sometimes you get lucky and get great partners to work with but still, it is very rare to get all your group mates being cooperative. You won’t miss one or two who will just mess all of you up. Another mistake most students do is getting into the same groups with their friends with the thought that they can work best together. Well, not unless your friends are very focused people, you guys might just end up chatting and laughing, everyone waiting for the other to start the work until it is too late and you just decide to write up anything for the lecturer. You need to know you are in university alone and you will leave alone and all these small works given to you matter in your end result so take everything seriously from the start.

5. Be part of the society but not necessarily part of the group: In universities we don’t miss to have groups in our classes. I don’t mean the red cross groups and religious groups or so, I mean ‘the birds of a feather flocking together’; the group of friends who hang out together of which most of the times they meet for less constructive issues or we can call them the informal groups. Well, it always feels nice to be part of a group but sometimes, peer pressure comes in. You start skiving classes, doing things you would never have thought of doing, not doing assignments etc. But there is also another problem of being part of a group. Usually social groups never miss to have opponents or rather, another group that just agree on how the other is. These differences usually lead to spoken and sometimes unspoken hot wind of hatred between the two or more groups. Differences could be of social class, academics performance, behavioural differences or even political. Trust me, in university, you don’t really want to be part of a particular group because if there is any place you need to have good connections with people, it is university. Especially if you are living far from home; in hostels, you need the strong network with different people including the non-staff; the gate man, the cook, the cleaners. You just never know when you will get into trouble and need someone to help you. And don’t say I can never get into trouble. Sometimes you just need assistance especially in our Kenyan universities, you struggle a lot if you don’t have connections in the administration offices i.e. the clerks, financial managers, PR etc You could need assistance in your projects and assignments from an IT guy or an engineering student or perhaps the graphic designer to design you a poster for the school elections; could be anything really. So be part of the general society; help others, laugh with all sorts of people, connect with people, appreciate them even when you have personal differences with them and hang out with them when you can but don’t directly associate yourself with one social group only. It usually has its consequences; could be positive but most of the times it is negative. Well, as for the introverts, you don’t really have to excessively connect with people. A simple hi with a smile every time you meet different people is enough.

6. Your assignments and projects are your trump card: Never underestimate the value of your CATS, assignments and projects. Not unless you are among the ones who just want a certificate doesn’t matter what grade it is so long as it’s not a fail, you need to take every of these seriously. Because in the very end of your study,all your points in every step of your academic life do count to make up the final result.

7. Discipline Well, who doesn’t know about discipline? We have been hearing about it our entire school lives. Remember the lecturers do consider your discipline even when awarding you with first class. Being arrogant just because you perform well won’t take you anywhere far. How many times have we heard of students failing just because they had an argument with a teacher and they ended up being in their bad books? Perhaps that is the bad thing about university, your entire career life is in their hands by how they award you marks. Some are fair, some just fail you the moment you step on their toe. So be careful; respect your lecturers, your mates, be timely and meet the deadlines as required. By doing this the lecturer doesn’t gain anything, you are the one gaining here.

8. Laziness and Procrastination: Ironically, we have been going to primary and secondary school as from 6 or 6:30 in the morning. We have been having more than 6 subjects per day with few minutes or an hour for a break, yet we are too lazy to wake up early for the university class that starts at 8 and ends at 11. Or too lazy to do an assignment that was given to you two weeks ago yet you previously used to do 3 assignments per day. I think this comes almost automatically to all university students. Wonder why? Nonetheless, this should give a reason to be more determined and focused, ‘if I could wake up so early for a full day in school then why not for just 3 hours or 6?’ Well, some courses are more demanding like medicine where they have to be in class full day but then still, you chose the course yourself; this is your goal and your dream so go for it. Getting A in secondary/High school doesn’t count anymore when you get to university. The challenges in university are many especially on the peer pressure. If you are not careful you can easily drop out. The tables do turn and your hard work is all that matters. Personally I had a B- in secondary school and still got first class. And I am not the first nor the last to have done that. The vice versa has also happened. Very bright students who unexpectedly failed their finals while some didn’t even get half -way through the years. So don’t be relaxed that you are a genius who got straight A’s in secondary, this is a totally different life and experience where you got to work hard to get to your goals. Stop procrastinating and start doing something now.

9. You have to be your own master: If you let friends divert you then you will definitely get distracted from what brought you to the university. You skive classes with someone who can very well succeed without the lecturer’s directions while you really need extra elaborations to understand the lesson, what are you doing to yourself friend? You waste your studying time with rich friends who can afford to join any other university or course when they fail, but are you sure your parents can do the same to you when you fail? Do you really want to put them through such trouble? You don’t do assignments because your friends didn’t and take CATS jokingly because your friends can depend on the exams only to pass? Again, remember each person has their own IQ and own studying style that suits them best. So instead of just blindly following the flock, know when is the right time to hang out with friends and the time to really get serious with your studies. You went there alone and will leave alone. This is your future entirely in your hands therefore be your own master.

Finally, I’d like to wish you well as you go through this rough, tough road of university life yet filled with so many beautiful memories. Set your goals and be focused. Know which of the 4 things you want to leave the university premises with. But again, remember, Nothing comes easy. Nothing comes on a silver platter.

Photo Courtesy: Salem_Beliegraphy

I am by no chance a scholar in deen as much as I wish I could be one and maybe one day by Allah’s will I will be able to be but nonetheless, I was listening to what Luqman (A.S) was telling his son as mentioned in the qur’an and it got me thinking; perhaps we would be living better lives if we followed what wise men of olden times and even of the present said to us. And maybe, things would be at their best, if parents would sit down with their children and give them serious lessons on life and morals.

In the qur’an, surat Luqman as from the ayah 13-19, we get to learn from the wise Luqman the most basic advice for mankind in his life. Below I will state the lessons as derived from the ayas and perhaps in shaa Allah we can learn from it.

1. Do not worship anything apart from Allah nor join others in worship with Allah.

2. Man should be dutiful and good to his parents for they have raised him in hardship upon hardship.

3. Always give thanks to Allah and to your parents as well.

4. If your parents drive you against Allah or that you join others in worship with Him then don’t follow them BUT still treat them with kindness.

5. Allah is able to bring forth anything however hard it may seem to you…(so have faith in Him).

6. Do perform prayer

7. Enjoin on people all that is good.

8. Forbid people from all that is evil and bad.

9. Do not turn your face from men with pride.

10. Do not walk with insolence or arrogance.

11. Be moderate in your walking.

12. Lower your voice when speaking.

Imagine how life would be if we followed these simple lessons; how we would avoid so many problems if we could keep our voices low even when we are angry or when someone is confronting us, if we treated our parents with utmost respect, if we had total faith in Allah, if we could all correct each other when we go wrong and support others in good deeds, if we could be humble instead of being arrogant or insolent. Just picture the world like that, wouldn’t the world be such an amazing place to live in?? Change starts with me and you, be modest, humble and polite and see how you will be able to spread love and peace even without you knowing 😉

Photo Courtesy: http://www.suffolkfa.com/

When the whistle is blown and the game goes on, we are attracted to the screen. The game is so thrilling, exciting, it’s all about the enchantment of football. Once someone told me football is bewitching and that is surely a true say. The game can be so overwhelming especially when we see the players dribbling the ball to the goal or when they hurl the ball around, seeing a powerful kick or an entertaining shoot from the exultant players. How exciting it can be seeing them majestically enter the field, full of confidence and how they conquer the field and win the cup. How enchanting!

But there is quite a big difference between us and these teams. They live in a world of their own…they conquered their fears and fulfilled their goals. They earn millions of cash per week while we sit watching them for hours but what do we gain from them? Do we learn anything after more than one hour of deep concentration? They have a secured future but do we? Have we ever wondered why they earn all that money for just pushing a thing made of skin? Isn’t it a worldly affair that’s driving out people from what is more important to them? Haven’t we seen people committing suicide just because their team has lost? That’s a good reason for us to think well.

Well, there is a positive side of this whole issue. There are some things we could learn from the players. Not once nor twice have the fans seen some few players raise their hands to the sky and thank God for their success. They make time for their God, while we rarely do. Remember, they have done their part while we haven’t.

On the social basis, it’s so interesting seeing the winners and the losers hug, exchange shirts and pat each other’s back after the game. Actually this is the most entertaining part of the entire game.

They do realize that after all it’s just a game while we haven’t yet realized that life is a mere game too. We are too malicious and selfish, we never want to scratch each others’ back and we don’t even have good will to the closest people to us.

When the game is on, we see the collaboration, the unity and association among the team members. How they work together with no selfishness to get to their goals and how good the results of it can be. It is something worth following.

Life is all about your decision; either you learn from football or just merely watch the game. Have fun watching football or even other games but make sure you have your priorities first; your family, your studies, your future and most importantly, your hereafter. Well, it’s up to you now.

 

Powered by WordPress