Islamic Conversions

By LOUISE PEMBLE
13 Nov 2005

UNCOVERED: Reporter Louise Pemble dressed as a Muslim.

TO walk around Perth dressed as a Muslim is to be treated as an outsider in your own town.

In a week of allegations that Muslims were plotting a terrorist attack in Australia, I donned full Islamic garb and walked through the city to gauge public reaction. Would people see me as a harmless shopper, or would they suspect I was hiding a bomb under my clothes? My mission was to test tolerance towards Muslims by dressing as one for the day. I had the full
support of the Australian Federation of Islamic Councils, whose president, Ameer Ali, viewed it as a chance to highlight some of the issues faced by Australia’s Muslims.

I visited shops and cafes in Forrest Chase, Northbridge
and Hay St Mall, before catching a bus and train. I was surprised at how accepting younger people were, suggesting that Perth may be able to shrug off racism. But I wasn’t prepared for the hostility from older Australians.

The first cheap shot came from an elderly woman walking through Forrest Chase. “Stupid woman,” she hissed at her mate as they pa! ssed me. Later, as I was waiting at the crosswalk outside Perth railway station, a woman in her
60s saw me standing beside her and said to her companion: “Move away from the bomber.”

With the help of Perth’s Muslim community, I was fitted in
black trousers, a long black dress called an abya, a headscarf (hijab) and a facepiece (niqab). My eyes were the only visible part of my body. I chose the facepiece because I wanted to test its impact on others, but my Muslim adviser told me it was up to individuals to decide whether they wore just a
headscarf or covered their entire face. My senses were on high alert the minute I stepped out of *The Sunday Times* building.

Most people did a double take on seeing me and then either gave me a hostile stare or – in the case of several young women – smiled encouragingly. It soon became obvious
that many people thought I was dressed this way as an act of defiance. In their view, I was snubbing my ! nose at the anti-Muslim feeling said to be running high in the Australian community. I had heard of Muslim women being spat at and abused. One woman even had her headscarf torn from her head at Carousel Shopping Centre.

In the morning, I was accompanied by a Muslim
woman wearing the headscarf, but not the facepiece that I wore. In our two hours of walking around the city we were twice subjected to vilification.

“Imagine how this must affect you if it happened every time you left your house,” she said. It was then I realised how much we take for granted our right to feel safe in our own community and how people take only seconds to decide if you
are friend or enemy.

But for every snide remark and hostile stare, I was surprised by the extra respect I was shown by young men and women. Every shopkeeper I approached was much more polite than I had experienced when dressed in my usual clothes. And on a train, where I feared I might be regarded as a suicide bomber, I was twice offered a seat. It was a similar story on a bus, which was standing-room only. By this stage I had removed the niqab so that my face was showing – but nothing else. This seemed to ease some of the tension I had sensed earlier in the day. Back at the office, workmates asked me how uncomfortable I had been walking around Perth in my Muslim clothes. The icy stares on the street had forced me for the first time in my life to be wary of anyone who came near me. Of all the garments I wore, the facepiece caused the most discomfort. With it positioned just under my eyes, I found it difficult to look straight down. It also made drinking a juice in a city cafe a challenge.

*On the plus side, I found being hidden under all those garments surprisingly liberating. For the first time I was able to walk down the street without the usual scrutiny of my figure, face and hair.* On the downside, dressing as a Muslim woman showed me how it feels to leave home every day unsure of your own safety.

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=143

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

All my life I was told not to question things. I kept a bible under my pillow out of loyalty to God, but whenever I opened it to read the verses therein, I became confused. And no one could answer my questions.So in the end the bible remained under my pillow, though I never opened it.

I had books from when I was a kid containing bible stories on top of my wardrobe. I marvelled at the pictures and felt a love for God and his messengers, but a whole lot of confusion about Jesus and satan and the roles they played.

I went to bible classes and Sunday school, and went to mormon churches as well as Cof E. I was baptised at aged 8, and oh what a confusing day that was.And again I was told things were just not meant to be understood, and i were to accept the way it is.

It didn’t help that my parents were confused and apostated at the sign of any hardship.
I was encouraged to look into Islam, and wasn’t having any of it. To me you had to be pakistani or Indian to be a Muslim.

So out of my love for God, and a search for inner peace I collected books on different sects withing Christianity, one on Judaism, buddhism and to be fair I thought I’d read a little on Islam.
I wasn’t born a Jew, so that cleared that one up.

The books on Christianity gave me headaches. They were worse than any Maths assignment I had undertaken. Catholicism was something I had looked into as I switched churches, and it was the same… to keep it short, it left me confused.

And well, I’ve never been one to sit still long enough to meditate so Buddhism was out
No to be perfectly honest, I had always accepted there was a God. One God. never did I question there wasn’t despite my upbringing and hardships, alhamdulillah. So no form of paganism was attractive (yuk).And so i sighed in desperation and held the “Basic Islam” book in my hands. No politics, no plans to save the world, just the basics…

There was no way the last book in my pile would have the answers was there?
And from the first page discussing the Oneness of Allah, and then the messengers, books, and angels.. to the last page explaining how to pray and prostrate as Jesus(as) did I was in tears and shaking.

This basic book answered all my questions. And i hadn’t even opened a Quran yet.
I fell on my face(in prostration) and sobbed. It took a bit of time to place my bible on top the wardrobe with the rest of my books. But once I did I knew I had made the biggest and best choice in my life.

Two weeks later I was officially a Muslim.

I was 16.

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Choosing my friends.

Upon converting I had both Muslim and non-Muslim friends at college. I had only discovered Islam however two weeks prior. Up until then I had thought Islam was an Asian religion like Hinduism and Sikhism. There weren’t any Arabs where I lived.
Like my Hindu and Sikh friends my Muslim friends drank, partied and had relationships. I thought being a Muslim meant you ate curries, wore saris and went to Melas. I remember the only time I questioned this was when I saw one friend’s mother sat on a prayer mat, with prayer beads.

Strangely I learned salaam, and used the words inshaa Allah and Mashaa Allah from when I was 14, but wasn’t really aware of their significance until after I converted. I just thought it was cool and the *in* thing. I would shout salaam to Asians in the street much to their surprise!
For an art exam my Muslim friend painted a portrait of Malcolm X, and she ate pork in secret and changed her clothing when she got to school. So I knew Muslims, but didn’t know Islam.

It was reading about Islam in the college library that lead me to Islam. And two weeks after picking up the first book I had gotten myself a prayer timetable, was reading salat, and wearing a scarf. Although it was merely tied behind my neck, I was still the only one at college with my head covered. Infact I cannot remember seeing anyone my age even in the areas populated by Muslims wearing hijab at all.

My non-Muslim best friend ran when she saw me. Most of the other non-Muslims reacted the same. But what hurt most was my Muslim friend told me I was taking things too far, and other Muslims laughed and mocked me. They would urge me to go drinking with them in lunch breaks, and though I went I only drank coke. Still, I hated being in bars at all.
My Muslim male friends pulled at my scarf and one even shouted that I should stick to my own kind.

On top of this my mom forbade me to pray, wear a scarf and made meat dishes forcing me to eat them. So I learned Islam myself, and in secret. And practised in secret.
One day I was sat on a wall in the college car park, alone and in tears as I had often been since converting. I had this huge love of Allah inside me. It was like I was in love and fit to burst, but everyone was against it.

Then without any belongings I decided not to return to college, or home. Being that my mom beat me I was terrified that she would kill me if she found me, but I had also decided that at 16 I didn’t want that anymore either.

The city I moved to had a big Muslim community, and alhamdulillah they were so welcoming and strong in their faith. I learned much from them, and my passion for Islam grew and grew.
And alhamdulillah I was housed by some wonderful sisters until I was married three months later. I was with people who loved Islam and lived Islam. It was wonderful. I read Quran, and prayed and spent my first Ramadhan fasting and learning and discussing deen with my sisters.

Leaving home so young was extremely tough. Leaving education wasn’t wonderful, but leaving the people behind who made it difficult for me to practise my religion was one of the best choices I ever made.

I remember one of the highs was walking through town dressed all in black. Black hijab, black jilbaab. I got odd looks but I loved my life. I was amongst a minority in my beliefs, but being with these sisters who felt the passion I did had made me strong and not ashamed to be me. Alhamdulillah.

So my experience has a slightly different twist to this topic of choosing believers as friends, but I don’t ever remember feeling surprised or upset that even my kafir best friend disowned me. I expected it from non-Muslims, and to be honest felt I no longer believed in or enjoyed what they did anyway.

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My dad; from NF to Islam

My father was a racist, and even part of the National Front as a teenager. He even showed me his membership card when i was young, and seemed proud of it. He and my mum were racist and looked down on people of other racial backgrounds, and hated that I had friends who were Asian and black. My dad would call them wogs, which upset me. I used to tell my best friend, a Muslim, that I will marry a black man and have mixed race children so that the prejudice wouldn’t continue down the line.

When i became Muslim at sixteen my mum and dad had been seperated for quite a while.
My mum made it very hard for me, and I had to leave home. She had the CID looking for me, and convinced them I had joined a cult of dirty Paki(stani)s. Eventually she gave in and let me be, kinda sorta.

But when i decided I wanted to get married I had to go in search of my dad to sign the papers, being I was so young. And he did it straight away. I was so suprised! He signed me over to a Pakistani! My mum on the other hand made such a fuss, but alhamdulillah agreed in the end.
I visited my father thereafter very regularly. I loved my dad and wanted him to be a Muslim but didnt think there was much of a chance. He was always very proud of me as a child and I wanted to show him by example, that Islam made me an even better person.

The day he asked if he could be Muslim I nearly died. Not long after he reverted he broke down and wept, telling me how sorry he was for calling my friends wogs. He sent food to the masjid, read to the children there. Compared his tan with my father in laws naturally brown skin. He sponsored a Hafis in India, and began learning Arabic. He grew a beard and wore an imama.Though in a wheelchair he read five times Salat.

My father then passed away in his sleep on Jumah in Ramadhan, after being Muslim for only seven months.

The lasts words he said to me the night before were, “Allah will look after me.”

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my son

Seven and a half years ago i gave birth to a little boy. I knew from scans he’d have serious heart defects, and was offered an abortion numerous times. The specialists said he would not survive birth anyway, even if he gets through the pregnancy.I went ahead with the pregnancy, and never regreted it.

My son was born almost blue, and very ill. He was in hospital and tube fed for the first year of his life. His ‘heart condition, (which was so unique and serious it couldnt be given a text book name, they)told me, would was incurable. His heart didn’t look like a normal heart at all. Not at all. He had splein problems and developmental problems too. At four months old, just before his first operation, he smiled, and when he came out of surgery I felt my heart cry so much. He was drapesed in tubes, drips, wires and could hardly breath. I sang to him, read Allah’s names, and cried often, but knew he’d pull through. Not once did I get angry at God. Allah gave me strength.

The year after that was hard, but happy. Despite his frequent stays in hospital, he was such a happy child, if a little slow.The good times made up for the worry.At two years he had another operation. It was always frightening leaving him in theatre, as I never knew if I’d see him again alive.

But all Praise to Allah he pulled through, and the first day in intensive care he pulled the ventilator from his mouth, determined to breathe. That night he was moved to the ward. The night was tough, and i found myself watching his oxygen saturation monitor rise and fall. But I neednt have worried. The next morning he was sitting up in his cot, playing with a toy fire engine, despite six canulars (drips) a chest wound and a drainage tube from his abdomen.

The next worry, though, was hearing that although his heart function was improved by the operation, he would need a permanent pacemaker due to damage caused during the op’.
Continuously I worried, but prayed and prayed he wouldnt suffer.

Over the next two years my Sayfullah (sword of Allah), improved his development in leaps and bounds. Allah hu Akbar. He still got ill lots, and twice we nearly lost him due to illness, but he learnt to walk, talk, and make everyone laugh. He was a proper little comedian.
He went to nursery, and school thereafter, and did well, despite missing months at a time due to pacemaker changes and operations.

September 18th will be a year since he died.

He came back from school, and died in my arms of sudden heart attack. We hadnt even walked through the front door. At his appointment at hospital the day before, they said they were pleased with his progress. I am so very happy he died at home, with me, and not under a surgeons knife, amongst strangers. Of course this is a comfort for me. No matter what, he was happy when the angels called him. And will forever be in eternal bliss. I cry because I miss him terribly, and as the date draws near, i feel more saddness at my loss, But to Allah we belong and to him is our return.

I had a beautiful gift for almost seven years, and I love Allah so very much. He was such a happy fella, and never complained. He made a poem up the weekend before he passed away…
“Allah is our God,’cause HE never makes things hard”

Allah knows why these things happen, Allah knows best. I do know however that my son never thought himself other than normal. And his disabilities were overpowered by his laughter and strength.

Without sadness there can be no joy.
Without pain, no comfort.
Without thunder, no calm.

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Losing my son. A collection of posts.

16/9/2002… two days before the anniversary of his death.

I’m gonna sound real sad now, and I’m gonna probably regret being real soft and “do’h”. But sometimes I can’t help myself, feel things have just gotta be said.

I’ve been down these past few days, and switch from crying to laughing to feeling really frustrated. My son died a year ago on Wednesday. Allah has helped me be patient and positive, Subhanullah, but I guess its only natural that I still miss him. It has been harder this last week. My family are great, but of course they are hurting aswell, and I find myself wanting to comfort them. Some of you guys have helped without realising it. I came on line today in an awful mood, but your posts made me laugh and cry

My angel

My sons teacher just recently told me an incidient at school, that she fondly remembers. Sayfullah, my son, was a very soft child (wonder who he takes after ) He was so brave during illness and operations, but got upset quite easily when someone was mean to him, or if I or a teacher got angry at him.

One morning he offered to pick up some wax crayons that had spilled on the floor. He was grinning whilst his teacher was telling the caretaker what a good boy he was, and how he was helping her. The caretaker was in a daze and not really paying attention and exclaimed “yes, I know. That Sayfullah is always crying.” My son’s looked up and frowned at his teacher as if to say “What the……”

Sayfullah was always bugging me to teach him how to cook. (He was only 6!) We made cakes together and the week before he passed away I taught him how to make toast. Proudly he made toast for him and his three year old sister, Naailah, showing of his butter spreading skills to every visitor to the house. One afternoon I heard a growl coming from the kitchen. When I asked what was wrong he said, ” Mummy, now I know how you feel like when we keep bothering you. Naailah won’t stop asking me to make her toast!”

Also, something I find really sweet. He was always keen to read salat, and would soak the bathroom floor doing his Wudhu (ablution). The weekend before he passed away i walked into my bedroom to find him praying in front of his female teenage cousins. They had told him that the man reads in front, and he was grinning from ear to ear at discovering his status in life.

I had always thought that his death would be too much to bear, and that my iman would weaken. Astughfirullah. I shed many silent tears but I have become stronger, mash Allah. I know he is waiting for me and I’m all the more determined to get where he is. I make errors and commit sins, but will never give in inshallah.

I love Allah so very much, and I know He has helped me to cope more than I ever thought I could. We all know that my son is in Jannat, and Subhanullah he passed away in my arms and not under a surgeon’s knife. We had also had some great months before he had passed away, and had been on our first family holiday. Despite these positive aspects, Allah Ta’ala has continued to show me signs in dreams and even in my son after his death. Nurses were amazed at his grey colour turning to pink the second day in the mortuary, and that he was smiling. Allah Ta’ala had us all in tears with these signs, as well as the scratches he had from falling, healing after death also.

On the day of his burial, as they sprinkled water on his grave, there was a shower from the skies for a few seconds. Allah hu Akbar. He is where we all want to be. My son.
Through my tears it helps(and did so especially in the early days) to say,”ina lilahi, wa ina ilahi rajaion,” and know that Allah would be pleased at me doing so, inshallah. It may just be the thing that saves me.

Muslims believe that Prophet Abraham(pbuh), and his wife Sarah look after the infants have passed away, until the Day of Judgement, when they will intercede on their parents behalf. Barzak is where all souls remain until the Judgement Day. According to Hadith, Abraham(pbuh)and his wife teach the children under a tree. My son had serious heart defects. He had four operations, and a pacemaker. We knew that there was a chance he wouldnt live too long, but you try not to think about these things. At an appointment the day before, the doctors were very happy. Although he was very ill as a baby, he was very bright and active for the last few years of his life. The doctors had advised me to have an abortion, I chose not to. He lived nearly seven beautiful years and he had a heart attack last September, in my arms, after returning from school. Not on an operating table. Or in the presence of strangers. Subhanallah.

I have days when I cant cope with missing him. And would have thought id have gone mad. He was just like me, loving and sensitive. My best friend. But Allah Ta’ala has helped me cope so much. He gave me the most beautiful gift to look after for over six years, and is now taking care of him better than I ever could.

Ina lil la hi, wa ina lilay hi, rah jaioon.
To God we belong, and to him is our return.

I had a dream, in ramazaan, when he was a baby that I shot Abu Jahal, the one of the greatest enemies of the Prophet Muhammad (phuh). (He used to try to stand on our beloved Rasools head when he prostrated in prayer. But fire, only Abu Jahal could see, came in between.) Anyway, in my dream, I shot him. And later that night, I dreamt that a boy, that resembled Sayfullah, was riding on a horse with the Prophet Abraham(pbuh). I had the dream interpreted, and I was told that it meant, I would go through some hardships, but if I stayed strong, there would be a happy ending.

Two days before he passed away, I remembered the dream, and that I hadnt practiced my religion all the time since. I cried on my prayer mat begging Allah to forgive me, because I was promised a happy ending if I was strong and I had become weak.

I pleaded with Allah to take me back to that time. And give me the chance to start afresh.
It wasnt until after Sayfullah died, I found out that Abraham looks after the infants deceased. I believe that the hardship the dream said I was to face, was loosing my son. I try to be strong, so that my happy ending will be me meeting my son in Janaat. Inshallah. Also, I have two other children who need me.

Do not feel bad, it helps me to talk(or type), and maybe it may help others too. My faith has given me strength.

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~*My Hajj*~

The plane touching down and seeing the heat rise.

Walking the steps Muhammad (saw) did, breathing in the air he breathed.
Seeing Allah’s ka’ba for the first time and making my first dua whilst facing it. Watching even the birds do tawaf at fajr.

Praying alongside thousands in Jamaat, a whole spectrum of races and colors united in ibadaat. Giving my salaams to Muslimahs from all walks of life and countries… old, young, rich and poor. Sharing my space in salaat, sharing a zam zam tap to make wudhu.

The feeling of your duas been answered as a weight is lifted from your heart.

The five times adhan. Hearing sheik Sodais live.
Chanting (without voice for us women) La baik “I’m here” with thousands of others.

The intense heat of Arafaat, knowing The Last day will be hotter as sweat drips down yout neck and you eat icecream.

And in Muzzalifa. Praying all night under the open sky and seeing all around you thousands of pilgrims doing the same.

Stoning the Shaitaans and hearing your stone go “tock.”

The hardships and rough experiences and coming through them with only positive feelings and spiritual growth.

For myself the relief of going into niqaab, and enjoying the new found respect I recieved. Eating my first icecream under my niqaab and making a right mess

The most exhilarating aside from stoning the shaitaans was completing my farewell tawaf all alone, although I could barely stand through illness and was vomiting between rounds. The last few steps were amazing knowing Allah allowed me to complete it without aid had me shaking with tears.

The saddest experience of my life along with missing my son was leaving Makkah for the airport.

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Going into Niqaab

I used to wear only a headscarf until about six months ago. Since wearing the full clobber, I have enjoyed the respect of other men even more. Men understand that I wish to be respected, and not drooled over. What I have to say, and my thoughts and feelings are far more important than my looks. It is my girl power!

I pass by workmen every morning, and in the evenings men gather outside the public house at the end of my street. I have never had them shout obscenities at me, and if they are in the local shop, they open the door for me, and let me be served before them. My friend, who does not wear Islamic clothing, however, gets eyed up, whistled at, and filthy comments directed at her by these same men. My husband should be my ultimate admirer. I wear ‘western’ clothing at home. I am his jewel that only he can view.

My husband, initially, was against me wearing the veil. My first reason for wearing it was because of my religious beliefs. He tried to convince me there is no need, but like most women, I got my own way in the end! Since then, he has supported me, and is now glad for me, because of the positive effects it has had on my imaan.

For the Muslims…We do not know which good deed we do will save us from our sins. I do not think I am pious or better than anyone else. Astaghfirulah, I am a sinner. Most women I know, who wear the veil of just a scarf, feel the same. It is just one less sin we are trying to save ourselves from. It is very important, especially in these times, to look like a Muslim, and quash the stereotypes non-Muslims have of Muslim women. It can be a form of dawa, also.

Muslim girls have said to me, “those women in veil are the worst, I am glad I’m not like them”. Astaghfirulah! All women, and all men, commit sin. It is only the veiled ones that make good gossip, and hit the spotlight.

The Prophets (saw) wives (ra) wore the veil, and they were the best of women. They were not wearing it to hide their other faults, na’uthu billah. It is a command of Allah Ta’ala. The hijab (head scarf) is fardh. It is better we do one fardh, than none at all. We cannot guarantee we will live to see a day when we will be ready to practice Islam in its entirety. We should do what we can whilst we are living. Allah(swt) knows best.

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~*My Umrah*~

1/11/2002
It was amazing, subhanAllah. So very hard to put into words, but I’ll try.
The knowledge that I was breathing in the air the Prophet (saw) breathed, walking upon the ground that he walked upon was so wonderful. The atmosphere…. the wonderful feelings you experience merely gazing at the ka’bah. We bow and prostrate five times a day in the direction of the Ka’bah, and to do this directly in front of it is unreal. I felt tearful and had a lump in my throat, whilst standing bowing and prostrating before my Maker.

You feel your duas being answered. Things you just think of appear before you without you even having to ask. Even during difficult periods, you know Allah Ta’ala is watching and testing and when those times pass, you feel Allah ta’ala has rewarded you. Great times always follow the hard ones, so much so you forget and feel gratitude. Knowing that Allah Ta’ala has called you to His house to do ibadaat and dua beneath His throne is so very humbling.

SubhanAllah I met so many sweet sisters who would do salaam and hug me. I found that whenever I showed patience, helped another or smiled at my sisters, I was always received and treated kindly. Men were respectful, because I demanded it, and the Arabs were so very calm and helpful.

In hot climates tempers are short and people may not always be patient, but we do not go to nit pick others faults. We go there to humbly request forgiveness for our own sins and pray for guidance in deen not to fuss over or bother ourselves with wrong doings of others.
I say this because I have met sisters who have returned from Umrah and Hajj complaining about this and that. Astaghfirullah

There are many people there who may not be educated in deen. Not everyone shows patience. But maybe a good action of theirs is incomparable to our weak efforts. Only Allah Ta’ala knows.
All the people who were bowing to Allah Ta’ala, declaring and confirming Him to be the greatest personally overwhelmed me.

Knowing your prayers are answered, in certain areas of the Masjid gives you so much hope, and duas just flow from your lips. I felt overwhelmed emotionally and felt I could not do enough to show my gratitude. I would prostrate and ask of Allah Ta’ala knowing He was listening. The feelings I felt cannot be put into words. The best I can do is to say that the voices of others would go silent and I would feel paralysed in prostration, so much so I would wonder if I was still alive. Sometimes we can be unsure of what to ask for, but the words just flowed. I felt I was before Allah opening my heart, and he was listening and forgiving. This explanation really doesn’t do justice, and you must really go for yourself whenever you get the opportunity. May Allah ta’ala invite us all, again and again and again, inshaa Allah, Aameen.

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=146

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

By Jamilah Kolocotronis

Her novel Echoes discusses problems that the new Muslims face.

I sat in my night class, in my first semester at the community college, daydreaming as usual. I thought about my future and wondered where it would take me. Suddenly I had a revelation. I wanted to become a minister. I wanted to devote my life to spreading God’s Word.

Two years later, in 1976, I transferred to a state university two hundred miles away from home. Still pursuing my dream, I immediately contacted the pastor of the local Lutheran church and told him I wanted to help in whatever way I could. For my first assignment, he sent me as his representative to a welcoming picnic for new international students. At that picnic, I met my first Muslim.

I learned that Abdul-Mun’im came from Thailand. He had a nice smile, and he was polite. As we talked, he often mentioned God.

That seemed very strange to me. I had always been told that anyone who was not a Christian would go to hell. I wondered how someone who believed in God, and had good manners, could be condemned to eternal punishment. I felt sorry for Abdul-Mun’im. So I set out to convert him.

I invited him to attend church with me. He came, but he brought his copy of the Qur’an. I was so embarrassed. After the service, he told me a little about Islam and the Qur’an. I had never heard those words before. I had heard the word “Muslim,” but only in a negative sense. During the 60s, many whites across America believed that Black Muslims planned to overthrow white American society.

I had a baby sister, born a few days before I received my undergraduate degree, and I watched her. I tried to see the sin in her.

Over the next two years I stayed in contact with Abdul-Mun’im, and a few other Muslim men, through my involvement with the International Club. I continued in my crusade to convert them, and remained steadfast in pursuing my goal of becoming a minister.

In the 1970s, many churches refused to ordain women. I received a letter from one seminary informing me, in no uncertain terms, that women were “not allowed to speak in church.” It’s in the Bible, in one of the epistles of St. Paul. I wondered if the passage had been revealed by God, or simply reflected the personal bias of Paul.

Anyway, times were changing. I found a Lutheran seminary which accepted me. After graduating from the university, I packed up and headed to Chicago to begin my training for the ministry.

I had some very positive experiences in Chicago. I got along well with my two roommates, and made other friends. I studied Latin with a Polish priest who couldn’t hide his excitement when he learned that the newly-selected pope was Polish. I listened to lectures by scholars at the nearby University of Chicago, and even landed a job dusting the apartment of one old professor. I heard Handel’s Messiah performed in an old cathedral by a professional choir. I soaked up the atmosphere of life on the Southside of Chicago.

But my studies were disappointing. One professor told us that while Christian scholars had determined that the Bible was not infallible, we should not tell our parishioners this. When I asked questions, I was told to “simply believe.” Then there was the seminary social life–parties, drinking. I packed up and left Chicago after one semester, extremely disillusioned.

My parents, though disappointed, welcomed me back into their home. I decided to spend some time searching.

I knew that Muslims did not believe in original sin. I had a baby sister, born a few days before I received my undergraduate degree, and I watched her. I tried to see the sin in her. But I couldn’t, because it wasn’t there.

While trying to decide my next course of action, I signed on with a temp agency and took secretarial jobs. Some of my assignments were in downtown St. Louis, a long bus ride away from my parents’ suburban home. I used my commute time for reading.

One day I walked into a bookstore and bought a paperback translation of the Qur’an. I had a B.A. in Philosophy and Religion, and a semester of seminary training, so surely I possessed the skills I needed to expose the errors in the Qur’an. Then I would be able to persuade my poor Muslim friends how very wrong they were.

I read, looking for mistakes and inconsistencies, and found none. I became impressed when I came to Surat Al-An`am 6, verse 73. [He it is Who created the heavens and the earth in truth. On that day when He says, Be, it is.]

When I was a little girl, attending Sunday School and Vacation Bible School, I learned about how God created the world. “God said, ‘Let there be light’,” the Bible says. “And there was, and it was good.” Be, and it is. I started to wonder if Allah was the same God I had always worshiped.

I paid closer attention after reading that verse. For the first time, I wanted to know more about Islam.

I decided to return to my old university to study for my master’s degree in Philosophy and Religion. I began attending some of the Friday prayers, just to observe. I also continued to go to church and eat ham and cheese sandwiches. I wasn’t ready to become a Muslim. But I felt adrift. I needed answers.

I felt as if I had been treading water, and I finally found land.

I searched in earnest. My Muslim friends at the university clarified some issues, such as how Jesus could have been born of a virgin and not be divine. I wrote a paper for my one of my classes in which I explored the concept of “logos”. In the Bible, the Gospel of John, it says, “In the beginning was the Word (Logos), and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” This verse is often used to support the divinity of Jesus. So I explored the concept, tracing it back to ancient Greece and the writings of Plato. I studied the evolution of the doctrine of the Trinity, researching the various Christian opinions on this issue before it was codified at the Council of Nicaea in 325. I read the Bible from Genesis to Revelations. I had many questions, and I needed to know.

I studied other religions also. I read the Bhagavad Gita, examined the life and teachings of Buddha and talked about peace with Baha’is. I needed to find the truth.

By the summer of 1980, I had come to appreciate many of the teachings of Islam. But some things still bothered me. One of the greatest was the need to make ablutions before prayer. God should be accessible at all times, I thought. Why did Muslims feel the need to perform a special cleansing ritual? I couldn’t see the logic in it.

On the night I accepted the necessity of wudu’, I was ready to accept Islam. I walked over to the small mosque near the university, on the night of the nineteenth of Ramadan, and told the men there about my discovery. One of them, Adel, gave me shahadah.

It took a few days, but I started to feel at peace. I had been searching for so long. I felt as if I had been treading water, and I finally found land.

But my struggles weren’t over. For one thing, I had no idea about hijab. The three men who were present at my shahadah were from Jordan, Egypt and Thailand, and they told me nothing about it. In those days, most of the women in their countries didn’t cover. On the day before `Eid I traveled with them to a larger town, and they took me to the apartment of a Sudanese woman. Soon after my arrival, she handed me a robe and a scarf and told me to put them on. I was stunned. She was very nice, though, so I did as she said.

When we returned to our small town, I took off the robe and scarf. That was not for me. It was hot—this was in August—and I felt strange. And, besides, I didn’t want one of my professors to know that I was a Muslim. I knew he would be displeased.

My next challenge was trying to figure out how to tell my parents. Three weeks after my conversion, I wrote them a letter. I tried to explain my struggle and years of searching. They were shocked. They hoped I was just going through a phase. They worried that I had joined a cult. They didn’t understand. But they never turned their back on me.

A few months after my conversion, I began to wear the scarf. First, I wore it to keep my ears warm on winter mornings in northern Missouri. Then one day, after being treated rudely by one of the men on campus, I decided to wear it full-time. My professor wasn’t happy, but he didn’t say too much.

Seven or eight months after my shahadah, I met another student who was interested in Islam. She already knew something about it, and wanted to learn more. We talked and talked. One night she told me she was ready. I gave her shahadah.

Even though some Muslims degrade women, Islam elevates us.

All during this time, I kept in contact with Abdul-Mun’im. He was one of the three present when I made shahadah, and he helped me adjust to my new faith. A month after my conversion he left to pursue his doctorate in Indiana, but we continued to write. When I told him about Sr. Aisha’s conversion, he invited both of us to travel with him and his friends up to Ann Arbor. A brother and sister with a large family hosted Aisha and me. Community members gave us Islamic clothes and books. We felt very welcome.

In the spring, Abdul-Mun’im invited me to apply to his university. I was accepted, and they offered me a doctoral fellowship. In the summer, Aisha and Fauzia, a Pakistani sister, helped me move to Indiana. They stayed there with me during Ramadan. At the end of Ramadan, Aisha and Fauzia moved back to Missouri. Abdul-Mun’im asked me to marry him.

We have been married for twenty-four years. We have six sons and, in sha’ Allah, we will soon have our first grandchild. During most of our years together we have worked to establish and strengthen Islamic education.

Even though I have been a Muslim for twenty-six years now, I still feel new. My Arabic lessons stopped after my first son was born, and even though our youngest is now ten I have not returned to them. I have continued my studies in Islam, but I never feel I know enough.

I do know that I will always be an American. My early years had a huge impact on my life, and America will always be my country. I did try, for the first twenty years, to blend in with the immigrant culture, but I realized that I was denying who I really was. I can’t turn my back on my first twenty-three years.

One aspect of my conversion which my family still finds puzzling is my willingness to renounce, as they see it, the feminism of my youth. It is true that I no longer seek to become a religious leader. But, in Islam, I have found a fuller expression of what it means to be a woman. I do get irritated when brothers from other countries try to impose their cultural beliefs, suppressing women and not allowing us to be heard. When that happens, I only need to turn to the Qur’an or remember the example of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him). Even though some Muslims degrade women, Islam elevates us.

I am still learning, and still struggling to be closer to my Creator. And I am still working to integrate my American self with my Muslim self. Life is a journey, and I’m still on the road.

——————————————————————————–

** Jamilah Kolocotronis is a writer, teacher and the mother of six sons. Originally from St. Louis, she attended one semester of Lutheran seminary before becoming disillusioned. She accepted Islam at the age of twenty-three.

She and her husband live in Milwaukee, where he is principal of Salam School. Jamilah teaches part-time and writes novels about American Muslims. Her latest novel is Echoes.

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=147

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

IN the name of Allah, Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

It was narrated that Ibn ‘Abbaas (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: The Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “On the night on which I was taken on the Night Journey (Isra’), a beautiful fragrance came to me. I said: O Jibreel, what is this beautiful fragrance? He said: This is the fragrance of the hairdresser of Pharaoh’s daughter and her children. I said: What is their story? He said: Whilst she was combing the hair of Pharaoh’s daughter one day, the iron comb fell from her hand and she said, ‘Bismillaah (in the name of Allaah).’ The daughter of Pharaoh said: ‘My father?’ She said: ‘No. My Lord and the Lord of your father is Allaah.’ She said: ‘I will tell him about that.’ She said: ‘Yes.’ So she told him and he summoned her and said: ‘O So and so, do you have a Lord other than me?’ She said: ‘Yes, my Lord and your Lord is Allaah.’ He ordered that a baqarah (lit. “cow”) made of copper be heated up, then he ordered that she and her children be thrown into it. She said: ‘I have a request to make of you.’ He said: ‘What is your request?’ She said: ‘I would like my bones and my children’s bones to be gathered together in one cloth and buried.’ He said: ‘This will be done for you.’ He ordered that her children be thrown into it in front of her, one by one, until they came to the last one who was an infant boy who was still being breastfed. It was as if she wavered because of him, but he said: ‘O mother, go ahead, for the punishment of this world is easier to bear than the punishment of the hereafter.’ So she went ahead.” Ibn ‘Abbaas (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: Four infants spoke: ‘Eesa ibn Maryam (peace be upon him), the companion of Jurayj, the witness of Yoosuf and the son of the hairdresser of Pharaoh’s daughter.

Narrated by Imam Ahmad in al-Musnad (1/309), al-Tabaraani (12280), Ibn Hibbaan (2903) and al-Haakim (2/496).

Al-Dhahabi said in al-‘Aluw (84): This hadeeth has a hasan isnaad. Ibn Katheer said in al-Tafseer (3/15): There is nothing wrong with its isnaad. Its isnaad was classed as saheeh by the scholar Ahmad Shaakir in his commentary on al-Musnad (4/295). Al-Arna’oot said in Takhreej al-Musnad (5/30-31, no. 2821): Its isnaad is hasan.

With regard to the phrase “He ordered that a baqarah (lit. “cow”) made of copper be heated up”, Ibn al-Atheer said in al-Nihaayah (1/145): Al-Haafiz Abu Moosa said: It seems to me that this does not refer to something that was made in the shape of a cow, rather it may have been a vast pot or kettle, which they called a baqarah, taken from the word tabaqqur which means vastness, or it may have been something that could have held a whole cow because of its large size, so it was called thus.

And Allaah knows best.

Islam Q&A (www.islam-qa.com)

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=223

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

From: The Stories of the Prophets

By: Al Imam Ibn Kathir [(701 - 774 AH) or (1301 - 1372 AD)]

Ibn Ishaaq stated that he was a man of Rum. His names was Job Ibn Mose Ibn Razeh Ibn Esau Ibn Isaac Ibn Abraham. Someone else said he was Job Ibn Mose, Ibn Rimil Ibn Esau Ibn Isaac Ibn Jacob. There have also been other statements in his lineage. Ibn Asaker narrated that his mother was a daughter of Prophet Lot.It was said, also, that his father was one who believed in Abraham when he was cast into the fire.

The first opinion is the most plausable as he was a descendant of Abrahams offspring as Allah Almighty declared: “That was the reasoning about Us which We gave to Abraham (to use) against his people: We raise whom We will degree after degree: for thy Lord is full of wisdom and knowledge. We gave him Isaac and Jacob: all (three) We guided: and before him We guided Noah and before him We guided Noah and among His progeny David Solomon Job Joseph Moses and Aaron: thus do We reward Those who do good” Quran 6:83-84

Allah the Almighty praised His worshipper Job in His Glorious Quran: “Truly! We found him patient. How excellent a slave! Verily, he was ever oft-returning in repentance to Us” Quran 38:44

Job was repentant, remembering Allah with thankfulness, patience and steadfastness. This was the cause of his rescue and the secret of Allah’s praising him.

A group of angels were discussing Allah’s other human creatures, how those who were humble earned Allah’s displease, while those who were arrogant incurred His displeasure. One of the angels remarked: “The best creature on earth today is Job, a man of noble character who displays excellent patience and always remembers his Generous Lord. He is an excellent model for the worshippers of Allah. In return, his Lord has blessed him with a long life and plenty of riches, yet he is never haughty or selfish. His family, his servants, as well as the needy and the poor share in his good fortune; he feeds and clothes the poor and buys slaves to set them free. He makes those who receive his charity feel as if they are favouring him, so kind and gentle is he.”

Iblis, overhearing all this, became annoyed. He planned to tempt Job to corruption and disbelief, so he hastened to him. He tried to distract Job from his prayers by whispering to him about the good things in life, but Job was a true believer and would not let evil thoughts tempt him. This distrubed Iblis more; thus he began to hate Job even more.

Iblis complained to Allah about Job. He said that althought he was continously glorifying Allah, he was not doing so out of his sincerity but to satisfy Allah so that his wealth should not be taken away. It was all a show, all out of greed. “If You remove his wealth then You will find that his tongue will no longer mention Your name and his praying will stop.”

Allah told Iblis that Job was one of His most sincere devotees. He did not worship Him because of the favors; his worship stemmed from his heart and had nothing to do with material things. But to prove Iblis the depth of Job’s sincerity and patience, Allah allowed him to do whatever he and his helpers wished with Job’s wealth.

Iblis was very happy. He gathered his helpers and set about destroying Job’s cattle, servants, and farms until he was left with no posessions. Rubbing his hands in glee, Iblis appeared before Job in the guise of a wise old man and said to him: “All your wealth is lost. Some people say that it is because you gave too much charity and that you are wasting your time with your continuous prayers to Allah. Others say that Allah has bought this upon you in order to please your enemies. If Allah had the capacit to prevent harm, then He would have protected your wealth”

True to his belief, Job replied: “What Allah has taken away from me belongs to Him. I was only its trustee for a while. He gives to whom He wills and witholds from whom He wills”

With these words, Job again prostrated to his Lord.

When Iblis saw this, he felt frustrated, so he again addressed Allah: “I have stripped Job of all his posessions, but he still remains grateful to You. However, he is only hiding his dissapointment, for he places great store by his many children. The real test of a parent is through him children. You will then see how Job will reject You”

Allah granted Iblis authority, but warned him that it would not reduce Job’s faith in his Lord nor his patience.

Iblis again gathered his helpers and set about his evol deeds. He shook the foundation of the house in which Job’s children were living and sent the building crashing, killing all of them. Then he went to Job disguised as a man who had come to sympathise with him. In a comforting tone he said to Job: “The circumstances under which your children died were sad. Surely, your Lord isnot rewarding youproperly for all your prayers?”

Having said this Iblis waited anxiously, hoping Job was now ready to reject Allah. But again Job dissapointed him by replying: “Allah sometimes gives and sometimes takes. He is sometimes pleased and sometimes displeased with our deeds. Whether a thing is beneficial or harmful to me, I will remain firm in my belief and remain thankful to my Creator”

Then Job prostrated to his Lord. At this Iblis was extremely vexed. Iblis again called on Allah: “O my Lord, Job’s wealth is gone, his children are dead, but he is still healthy in body, and as long as he enjoys good health he will continue to worship You in the hope of regaining his wealth and producing more children. Grant me authority over his body so that I may weaken it. He will surely neglect worshipping You and with thus becomes disobedient”

Allah wanted to teach Iblis a lesson that Job was a devoted servant of his Lord, so He granted Iblis his third request but placed a condition: “I give you authority over his body but not over his soul, intellect, or heart, for in these places reside the knowledge of Me and My religion”

Armed with this new authority, Iblis began to take revenge on Job’s body and filled it with disease until it was reduced to mere skin and bone and he suffered severe pain. But through all the suffering Job remained string in his faith, patiently bearing all the hardships without complaining. Allah’s righteous servant did not despair or turn to others for help but remained hopeful of Allah’s Mercy. Even close relatives and friends deserted him. Only his kind loving wife stayed with him. In his hour of need, she showered her kindness on him and cared for him. She remained his sole companion and comforter through many years of his suffering.

Ibn Asaker narrated: “Job was a man having much wealth of all kinds: beasts, slaves, sheep, vast lands of Haran and many children. All those favors were taken from him and he was physically afflicted as well. Never a single organ was sound except his heart and tongue, with both of which he glorified Allah, the Almighty all the time day and night. His disease lasted for a long time until his visitors felt disgusted with him. His friend kept away from him, and people abstained from visiting him. No one felt sympathy for him except his wife. She took good care of him, knowing his former charity and pity for her”

Therefore, Iblis became desperate. He consulted his helpers but they could not advise him. They asked: “How is it that your cleverness cannot work against Job, yet you succeeded in misleading Adam, the father of man, out of paradise?”

Iblis went to Job’s wife in the form of a man. “Where is your husband?” he asked her.

She pointed to an almost lifeless form crumpled on the bed and said: “There he is, suspended between life and death.”

Iblis reminded her of the days when Job had good health, wealth and children. Suddenly, the painful memory of yeas of hardship overcame her, and she burst into tears. She said to Job: “How long are you going to bear this torture from our Lord? Are we to remain without wealth, children or friends forever? Why don’t you call upon Allah to remove this suffering?”

Job sighed, and in a soft voice replied: “Iblis must have whispered to you and made you dissatisfied. Tell me, how long did I enjoy good health and riches?”

She replied, “For eighty years”

Then Job asked, “How long am I suffering like this?”

She said, “for seven years”

Then Job told her: “In that case I am ashamed to call on my Lord to remove the hardship, for I have not suffered longer than the years of good health and plenty. It seems your faith has weakened and you are dissatisfied with the fate of Allah. If I ever regain health, I swear I will punish you with a hundred strokes! From this day onward, I forbid myself to eat or drink anything from your hand. Leave me alone and let my Lord do with me as He pleases.”

Crying bitterly and with a heavy heart, she had no choice but to leave him and seek shelter elsewhere. In his helpless state, Job turned to Allah, not to complain but to seek His mercy: “Verily, distress has seized me, and You and the Most Merciful of all those who show Mercy. So We answered his call, and We removed the distress that was on him, and We restored his family to him (that he had lost) and the like thereof along with them - as a mercy from Ourselves and a Reminder for all who worship Us” Quran 21:83-84

Almighty Allah also instructed: “Commemorate Our servant Job behold he cried to his Lord: “The Evil One has afflicted me with distress and suffering”! (The command was given:) “Strike with thy foot: here is (water) wherein to wash cool and refreshing and (water) to drink.” And We gave him (back) his people and doubled their number as a Grace from Ourselves and a thing for commemoration for all who have Understanding.” Quran 38:41-43

Job obeyed, and almost immediately his good health was restored. Meanwhile, his faithful wife could no longer bear to be parted from her husband and returned to beg his forgiveness, desiring to serve him. On entering he house, she was amazed at the sudden change: Job was again healthy! She embraced him and thanked Allah for His mercy.

Job was now worried, for he had taken an oath to punish her with a hundred strokes if he regained health, but he had no desire to hurt her. He knew if he did not fulfill the oath, he would be guilty of breaking a promise to Allah. Therefore, in His wisdom and mercy, Allah came to the assistance of His faithful servant, and advised him: “And take in your hand a bundle of thin grass and strike therewith (your wife), and break not your oath. Truly we found him patient. How excellent a slave! Verily, he was ever oft-returning in repentance to Us” Quran 38:44

Abu Huraira (ra) narrated that the Prophet Muhammed (pbuh) said: “While Job was naked, taking a bath, a swarm of locusts fell on him, and he started collecting them in his garment. His Lord called him: ‘O Job! Have I not made you too rich to need what you see?’ He said: ‘Yes, O Lord! But I cannot shun Your Blessings” (Bukhari)

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=239

September 10th, 2008 | Tags: Ayub, Job | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

ISLAM is a lifelong journey, but it begins with a first step. I entered the door of Islam at an American mosque on September 18, 2003 after I heard the words of one Hadith: If you walk toward Allah, He comes to you running. This was my Islamic moment, and I never looked back. Yet, at that time, I could not anticipate the surprising destination that lay ahead of me Madinah, Saudi Arabia.
I arrived in the holy city of Madinah on December 17, 2005 to begin teaching English at Taibah University. This was my first trip outside the United States (except for Canada). In the months before my arrival, I scoured public libraries in Michigan for every book I could find on Saudi Arabian culture and history. Many authors I consulted were balanced and thorough, such as Princeton s Bernard Lewis and John Esposito of Georgetown University. However, others were hopelessly biased against the Kingdom, especially Stephen Schwartz, author of The Two Faces of Islam: The House of Saud from Tradition to Terror (New York: Doubleday, 2002).

In the United States, there is a great curiosity about the Islamic world, but it is a Herculean task for an American layman to differentiate between real experts and pamphleteers.

Books and newspapers can open windows to the world; they inspire curiosity and wonder. But a monastic reliance on these sources may be like studying the menu in a restaurant without tasting the food. This was my first lesson in Madinah. Neither photograph nor paragraph could really capture the preternatural beauty of this sacred space. As I approached the magnificent Mosque of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) for the first time, it appeared as if it had been lowered straight from Heaven. The beautiful Adhan for Maghrib prayer sounded angelic. Thousands upon thousands of Muslims hastened their steps to heed the call to prayer inside the Mosque and outside in its large exterior plaza. It was a sight to behold.

To be in the Prophet s (peace be upon him) Mosque is to witness the Islamic world in a glorious miniature. It is egalitarian and embracing: every nation is represented, many in vibrant colors. This is a vision that all visitors to Madinah surely must carry within their hearts the rest of their lives. It is also a poignant reminder of the words the Prophet (peace be upon him) delivered in his Final Sermon: O people! Listen to my words. Know that every Muslim is a brother to every Muslim and that all Muslims constitute one brotherhood.

A spirit of brotherhood is the hallmark of Madinah. The people of Madinah take special pride in hospitality and gentleness. As the Prophet (peace be upon him) advised: He who is deprived of gentleness is deprived of good. It is a pleasure to live in a city, where the reigning ethos is not competitive profit. I lived in 13 states throughout America, from Cambridge, Massachusetts to San Francisco and California. However, nothing in the United States can quite be comparable to the tranquility found in Madinah.

It is a rare privilege to live in the City of the Prophet (peace be upon him). This is the heart of Islamic history. As I travel the streets of Madinah, it is very humbling to know that I am walking in the footsteps of the Prophet (peace be upon him) and his Companions. Millions have come before me and millions will follow. Nobody remains untouched by the spiritual power of Madinah.

Madinah is a unique international city. Unlike New York and Las Vegas, it has no need for fluorescent advertising. It is subtle and comforting like a wise grandfather. Madinah is a symbol of the faith because Islam is an invitation to peace, not a declaration of force. This essence of Islam should not remain opaque to the world. The Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques King Abdullah addressed this important topic in a keynote speech at a recent conference organized by the Muslim World League:

We have to tell the world through our words and deeds that we are a nation that, in its heydays, promoted a culture of science, knowledge, truth and justice, and protected human rights, keeping away from extremism, terrorism and violence in dealing with others.

Islam is peace. By spreading this message to the world, we Muslims can become ambassadors for the faith we love and cherish.

Joseph Richard Preville is an American Muslim writer living in Madinah. His previous works appeared in San Francisco Chronicle, Christian Science Monitor, Harvard Divinity Bulletin and many other USA publications.

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=247

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

by Yusuf Islam

All I have to say is all what you know already, to confirm what you already know, the message of the Prophet (Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam) as given by God - the Religion of Truth. As human beings we are given a consciousness and a duty that has placed us at the top of creation. Man is created to be God’s deputy on earth, and it is important to realize the obligation to rid ourselves of all illusions and to make our lives a preparation for the next life. Anybody who misses this chance is not likely to be given another, to be brought back again and again, because it says in Qur’an Majeed that when man is brought to account,
he will say, “O Lord, send us back and give us another chance.” The Lord will say, “If I send you back you will do the same.”

My Early Religious Upbringing

I was brought up in the modern world of all the luxury and the high life of show business. I was born in a Christian home, but we know that every child is born in his original nature - it is only his parents that turn him to this or that religion. I was given this religion (Christianity) and thought this way. I was taught that God exists, but there was no direct contact with God, so we had to make contact with Him through Jesus - he was in fact the door to God. This was more or less accepted by me, but I did not swallow it all. I looked at some of the statues of Jesus; they were just stones with no life. And when they said that God is three, I was puzzled even more but could not argue. I more or less believed it, because I had to have respect for the faith of my parents.

Pop Star

Gradually I became alienated from this religious upbringing. I started making music. I wanted to be a big star. All those things I saw in the films and on the media took hold of me, and perhaps I thought this was my God, the goal of making money. I had an uncle who had a beautiful car. “Well,” I said, “he has it made. He has a lot of money.” The people around me influenced me to think that this was it; this world was their God. I decided then that this was the life for me; to make a lot of money, have a ‘great life’. Now my examples were the pop stars. I started making songs, but deep down I had a feeling for humanity, a feeling that if I became rich I would help the needy. (It says in the Qur’an, we make a promise, but when we make something, we want to hold onto it and become greedy.) So what happened was that I became very famous. I was still a teenager, my name and photo were splashed in all the media. They made me larger than life, so I wanted to live larger than life and the only way to do that was to be intoxicated (with liquor and drugs).

In Hospital

After a year of financial success and ‘high’ living, I became very ill,
contracted TB and had to be hospitalized. It was then that I started to think: What was to happen to me? Was I just a body, and my goal in life was merely to satisfy this body? I realized now that this calamity was a blessing given to me by Allah, a chance to open my eyes - “Why am I here? Why am I in bed?” - and I started looking for some of the answers. At that time there was great interest in the Eastern mysticism. I began reading, and the first thing I began to become aware of was death, and that the soul moves on; it does not stop. I felt I was
taking the road to bliss and high accomplishment. I started meditating and even became a vegetarian. I now believed in ‘peace and flower power,’ and this was the general trend. But what I did believe in particular was that I was not just a body. This awareness came to me at the hospital.

One day when I was walking and I was caught in the rain, I began running to the shelter and then I realized, ‘Wait a minute, my body is getting wet, my body is telling me I am getting wet.’ This made me think of a saying that the body is like a donkey, and it has to be trained where it has to go. Otherwise, the donkey will lead you where it wants to go. Then I realized I had a will, a God-given gift: follow the will of God. I was fascinated by the new terminology I was learning in the Eastern religion. By now I was fed up with Christianity. I started making music again and this time I started reflecting my own thoughts. I remember the lyric of one of my songs. It goes like this: “I wish I knew, I wish I knew what makes the Heaven, what makes the Hell. Do I get to know You in my bed or some dusty cell while others reach the big hotel?” and I knew I was on the Path.

I also wrote another song, “The Way to Find God Out.” I became even more famous in the world of music. I really had a difficult time because I was getting rich and famous, and at the same time, I was sincerely searching for the Truth. Then I came to a stage where I decided that Buddhism is all right and noble, but I was not ready to leave the world. I was too attached to the world and was not prepared to become a monk and to isolate myself from society.

I tried Zen and Ching, numerology, tarot cards and astrology. I tried to look back into the Bible and could not find anything. At this time I did not know anything about Islam, and then, what I regarded as a miracle occurred. My brother had visited the mosque in Jerusalem and was greatly impressed that while on the one hand it throbbed with life (unlike the churches and synagogues which were empty), on the other hand, an atmosphere of peace and tranquility prevailed.

The Qur’an

When he came to London he brought back a translation of the Qur’an, which he gave to me. He did not become a Muslim, but he felt something in this religion, and thought I might find something in it also.
And when I received the book, a guidance that would explain everything to me - who I was; what was the purpose of life; what was the reality and what would be the reality; and where I came from - I realized that this was the true religion; religion not in the sense the West understands it, not the type for only your old age. In the West, whoever wishes to embrace a religion and make it his only way of life is deemed a fanatic. I was not a fanatic, I was at first confused between the body and the soul. Then I realized that the body and soul are not apart and you don’t have to go to the mountain to be religious. We must follow the will of God. Then we can rise higher than the angels. The first thing I
wanted to do now was to be a Muslim.

I realized that everything belongs to God, that slumber does not overtake Him. He created everything. At this point I began to lose the pride in me, because hereto I had thought the reason I was here was because of my own greatness. But I realized that I did not create myself, and the whole purpose of my being here was to submit to the teaching that has been perfected by the religion we know as
Al-Islam. At this point I started discovering my faith. I felt I was a Muslim.

On reading the Qur’an, I now realized that all the Prophets sent by God brought the same message. Why then were the Jews and Christians different? I know now how the Jews did not accept Jesus as the Messiah and that they had changed His Word. Even the Christians misunderstand God’s Word and called Jesus the son of God. Everything made so much sense. This is the beauty of the Qur’an; it asks you to reflect and reason, and not to worship the sun or moon but the One Who
has created everything. The Qur’an asks man to reflect upon the sun and moon and God’s creation in general. Do you realize how different the sun is from the moon? They are at varying distances from the earth, yet appear the same size to us; at times one seems to overlap the other.

Even when many of the astronauts go to space, they see the insignificant size of the earth and vastness of space. They become very religious, because they have seen the Signs of Allah. When I read the Qur’an further, it talked about prayer, kindness and charity. I
was not a Muslim yet, but I felt that the only answer for me was the Qur’an, and God had sent it to me, and I kept it a secret. But the Qur’an also speaks on different levels. I began to understand it on another level, where the Qur’an says, “Those who believe do not take disbelievers for friends and the believers are brothers.” Thus at this point I wished to meet my Muslim brothers.

Conversion

Then I decided to journey to Jerusalem (as my brother had done). At Jerusalem, I went to the mosque and sat down. A man asked me what I wanted. I told him I was a Muslim. He asked what was my name. I told him, “Stevens.” He was confused. I then joined the prayer, though not so successfully. Back in London, I met a sister called Nafisa. I told her I wanted to embrace Islam and she directed me to the New Regent Mosque. This was in 1977, about one and a half years after I
received the Qur’an. Now I realized that I must get rid of my pride, get rid of Iblis, and face one direction. So on a Friday, after Jummah’ I went to the Imam and declared my faith (the Kalimah) at his hands. You have before you someone who had achieved fame and fortune. But guidance was something that eluded me, no matter how hard I tried, until I was shown the Qur’an. Now I realize I can get in direct contact with God, unlike Christianity or any other religion. As one Hindu lady told me, “You don’t understand the Hindus. We believe in one God; we
use these objects (idols) to merely concentrate.” What she was saying was that in order to reach God, one has to create associates, that are idols for the purpose. But Islam removes all these barriers. The only thing that moves the believers from the disbelievers is the salat. This is the process of purification. Finally I wish to say that everything I do is for the pleasure of Allah and pray that you gain some inspirations from my experiences. Furthermore, I would like to stress that I did not come into contact with any Muslim before I embraced Islam. I read the Qur’an first and realized that no person is perfect. Islam is perfect, and if we imitate the conduct of the Holy Prophet (Sallallahu alayhi wa sallam) we will be successful. May Allah give us guidance to follow the path of
the ummah of Muhammad (Sallallahu alayhi wa sallam). Ameen!

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=266

September 10th, 2008 | Tags: Yusuf Islam | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

All praise is due to Allâh, the Rabb of the worlds and may His choicest blessing shower upon our Master who emancipated both men and women from the yoke of repression.

Anâs Radhi-Allâhu ‘anhu reports that Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam has said: “From among the women of the world who have reached perfection and who are worthy of following are (the following four):Miryam the daughter of Imrân; Khadija daughter of Khuwailid; Fatima daughter of Muhammad and Asiyah wife of Fir’aun” (Tirmidhi)

The scholars of hadîth are of the view that this statement was made before Aisha Radhi-Allâhu ‘anha reached the position of excellence whereupon Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam said: “The virtue of Aisha Radhi-Allâhu ‘anha over all the women of the world is like the virtue of tharîd [a meat dish] over all other food.”

The hadîth however refers to four women who acquired perfection in faith and character by virtue of their devotion, patience, toil and morality. Their lives radiated with piety, trust, patience and gratitude. Their lives serve as beacons of guidance for all believers, especially in times of hardship, difficulty and struggle.

Miryam: The Daughter of Imrân
Miryam Alayhas-Salâm spent her young days in total seclusion within the precincts of Baitul Muqaddas. She devoted her life to prayer and worship of the Almighty. Although unmarried she miraculously gave birth to Isa Alayhis-Salâm. She was accused of adultery and chastised for bringing disrepute to the family name. Who would have believed her innocence when she came to her people as a spinster with a child in hand, and how could she exonerate herself from the charge of adultery? Just how could an unmarried woman convince her people that this was no ordinary birth… nor was this an ordinary child? The Holy Qur’ân says: “So she came to her people carrying the child with her.” They said:” O Miryam you have indeed done an amazing thing” … she pointed to him- they exclaimed: “How can we talk to one who is a child in the cradle?” But He (the child) said: “I am the servant of Allâh who has given me the Book and made me a Prophet.” (19:27-30) The breast suckling child spoke and vindicated his mother from the accusation of infidelity. When she gave her life to Allâh, Allâh gave her a child that protected her integrity even whilst he was in the cradle.

Khadija Daughter of Khuwailid
She was extremely wise, intelligent, gentle, and influential called Tahira [chaste and pure] even in the era of ignorance. She was exceptionally wealthy and a prosperous business woman. She married Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam at the age of fifty while he was twenty five. She provided the moral, financial, and emotional support for Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam when he was blessed with Nubuwat. When Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam first saw Jibra’îl Alayhis-Salâm in the cave of Hira, he was terrified and feared for his life. He ran down the mountain trembling and crying: “Cover me up! Cover me up!” It was Khadija Radhi-Allâhu ‘anha who consoled him; she was his pillar of support; she believed in him when everyone else doubted him. She served as his refuge, consoled him, supported him and cared for him when he was alone, confused and terrified. She stood by him when everyone else shunned him. Khadija Radhi-Allâhu ‘anha rallied to the call of Islam, she gave a home to Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam, she was his first confidant, and tower of strength.

Fatima Daughter of Muhammad
Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam would often say: “Fatima is of my flesh, he who angers her, angers me” (Bukhari & Muslim)

Fatimah Radhi-Allâhu ‘anhu was the youngest child of Nabî Sallallâhu ‘alayhi wasallam and the only child who survived him. Hers was a life of extreme poverty and struggle. She constantly saw her father being mistreated, insulted and humiliated by the disbelievers. One day, when she was barely ten years old, she accompanied her father to the Masjid al-Haram. He stood in the place known as al-Hijr facing the Kabah and began to pray. Fatimah stood at his side. A group of Quraysh gathered around him. They included Abu Jahl ibn Hisham, the Prophet’s uncle, Uqbah ibn Abi Muayt, Umayyah ibn Khalaf, and Shaybah and Utbah. Abu Jahl, the ringleader, asked: “Which of you can bring the entrails of a slaughtered animal and throw it on Muhammad?” Uqbah ibn Abi Muayt, one of the vilest of the lot, volunteered and hurried off. He returned with the obnoxious filth and threw it on the shoulders of the Prophet while he was still prostrating. Imagine the feelings of Fatimah as she saw her father being humiliated in this manner. She went up to her father and removed the filth and then stood firmly and angrily before the group of Quraish thugs and lashed out against them. Such scenes of vicious opposition and harassment against her father and the early Muslims were witnessed by the young Fatimah almost everyday. She did not meekly stand aside but joined in the struggle in defence of her father and his noble mission.

Asiyah wife of Fir’aun
“And for those who have faith Allâh has set forth a parable in the (story) of Fir’aun’s wife when she prayed: O my sustainer! Build for me a mansion in paradise by You and save me from Fir’aun and his doings and save me from all evil doing people.”

When the magicians fell into sajdah and declared their faith in Allâh and accepted Mûsa Alayhis-Salâm as the Nabî of Allâh - the wife of Fir’aun also declared her faith. Fir’aun began punishing her by pegging her to the ground and exposing her to the midday sun. Whenever he turned away from her the angels would give her shade with their wings. He then gave her a choice: ‘Either retract from your belief or be prepared to be crushed by a huge boulder.’ She chose to be crushed. As she was placed onto the ground she raised her sight towards the sky -she saw her place in Jannah and prayed: “O my sustainer! Build for me a mansion in paradise by You and save me from Fir’aun and his doings and save me from all evil doing people. As she said this, her rûh left her body and the boulder then crushed her lifeless body.

These four women changed the course of human history, through their perseverance, faith and courage. Miryam Alayhas-Salâm life was characterized by piety, chastity and faith, Khadija Radhi-Allâhu ‘anha neither succumbed to the trappings of wealth, nor to power and fame, Fatima Radhi-Allâhu ‘anha made sabr in the face of unending hardships and was crowned the ‘leader of all women in Jannah’, whilst the wife of Fir’aun chose faith over royalty. These were women distinguished by sabr who found the true friendship of Allâh through their unfailing steadfastness in the face of grinding sacrifices.

May Allâh grant us the taufîq to emulate the beautiful conduct of these icons of virtue, humility and courage.

http://www.qldmuslims.org.au/modules/articles/article.php?id=304

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment

N the ninth year of Hijra, the Master was leading an expedition to Tabuk. One evening as the army was encamping, people saw someone trudging on, with baggage on his back.

“Who could this fellow be, coming on foot, all by himself?” remarked some of the men. “It must be Abu Dhar,” said the Master. People looked carefully and shouted out, “O Messenger of Allah! surely this is Abu Dhar!”

“May Allah have mercy on Abu Dhar!” said the Master. “He is a loner. He is travelling alone, will die in loneliness and will be raised alone on the Day of Judgement.”

In the meantime Abu Dhar came up. He explained how his camel had refused to move, when the expedition left, so he had to come on foot. “You are one of those whom I miss very much,” said the Master. “However, for every step you have walked, Allah has forgiven a sin of yours.”

ACCEPTANCE OF ISLAM

Abu Dhar was one of the earliest converts to Islam. He belonged to the tribe of Ghifar. This tribe inhabited the country around the trade-route to Syria. Abu Dhar possessed a very sensitive, inquisitive mind. When he came to know that the Last Prophet had appeared in Makkah, he sent his brother to the city, saying, “Ride to that valley and find out the truth about the man who claims to be the Prophet. Talk to him and report back to me.”

The brother obeyed. He talked to different people in Makkah to find out the message of Islam. Then he went back and said to Abu Dhar, “I have heard the Prophet tell people to be good and kind. The Book he recites far above poetry.”

The report was too brief to satisfy AbuDhar. He himself set out to Makkah. There he went inside the Kaaba and waited for some one who could take him to the Prophet. Presently Ali entered the Kaaba. He looked at the stranger but Abu Dhar did not think it safe to speak out his mind to him. On the second day, the same thing happened again. On the third day Ali saw the stranger still sitting in the Kaaba. So he said, “Won’t you tell me the purpose of your visit ?”

“First promise to guide me, then I will speak out my mind,” said Abu Dhar. Ali readily promised and Abu Dhar explained why he had come.

“Surely he is the true Prophet of Allah,” said Ali.” “Follow me and I will take you to him.”

Soon Abu Dhar stood before the Master, completely won over to Islam. “Go back to your people,” said the Master, “and convey to them my message.”

“By Allah,” declared Abu Dhar, “first I will shout out my faith here.”

Saying this Abu Dhar went straight to the Kaaba and shouted out: “I declare that there is no god except Allah and Muhammad is His servant and His Messenger.”

This daring act made the Quraysh mad with rage. They fell upon Abu Dhar and gave him a severe beating. Abbas, the Master’s uncle, happened to come up. “Woe to you!” he said to the people, “don’t you see That the man belongs to the tribe of Ghifar. His kinsmen will make your traderoute un-safe.” On the following day the same thing happened again. Once again Abbas came to Abu Dhar’s help.

MOST FEARLESS

Abu Dhar’s love for truth was unbounded. Nothing could stop him from declaring openly what he believed to be the truth. With this courage of conviction he combined a strong dislike for the comforts of this world.

Persecution by the Quraysh forced the Muslims to flee to Medina. However, Abu Dhar clung to Makkah. No danger could drive fear into his heart and no persecution could turn him from the path of truth. The Makkans started an all-out war against the Muslims. They fought the battles of Badr and Uhud, losing the first and winning the second. Feelings at Makkah ran high against Islam and its followers. Despite this all, Abu Dhar stayed on in the stronghold of the enemy.

At last he left Makkah of his own free will and joined the Master at Medina. His dauntless faith won him the deepest love of the Master. “Allah has commanded me,” the Master once declared, “to love four men, because He Himself loves them. These men are: Ali, Miqdad, Abu Dhar and Salman, the Persian.”

On another occasion the Master declared: “The earth has not carried on its back and the sky has not looked down upon a more truthful person than Abu Dhar.”

MASTER’S DEPUTY

Such was the trust put by the Master in Abu Dhar that twice during his absence, he appointed him his deputy at Madina. Despite all this honour and rank, Abu Dhar led an extremely simple life. He belonged to the group of the penniless Companions living in the portico. They are commonly known as `Ashab-i-Suffa’ or “People of the Portico.” They made their living by collecting wood from the desert and owned nothing in the world. Almost all their time was spent in studying the details of the faith.

These qualities made Abu Dhar a unique figure among the Campanions. The Master aptly described him as “the Jesus-like ascetic among my followers.”

Closeness to the Master earned Abu Dhar the greatest respect of the people. Both Abu Bakr and Omar had the highest regard for him. Omar fixed his stipend at the same rate as allowed to the heroes of Badr, although Abu Dhar never took part in that battle.

CRITICISM OF OTHMAN

Abu Dhar led a very quiet life under the first two Caliphs. Shortly after Othman came to power, the ascetic Companion felt disturbed by the course of events. The kinsmen of the aged Caliph were gaining control of all key posts. Wealth was passing into the hands of a few families, dooming the masses to a life of property. Unequal distribution of wealth brought in its wake many more evils. The simple way of life was giving way to empty pomp and show. Idle pastime and sports were becoming popular. Leading Quraysh families spread out in the provinces in a bid to amass wealth and build up power, Othman’s hand was too weak to stop these evils. If anything, he lavished rich gifts on his relatives. His brother, Harith got three hundred thousand dirhams, Zaid bin Thabit, an Ansari, got one hundred thousand and the Caliphs cousin, Marwan, got a very huge amount.

Abu Dhar could not remain a silent witness. He lashed out at Othman’s relatives quoting these verses of the Qur’aan: ‘Those who amass gold and silver and don’t spend it in the way of Allah, warn them of a painful chastisement. The day which these will be heated in hell fire and their foreheads and their flanks and their backs will be branded with them. Lo! This is what you amassed for yourselves ! Now taste of what you amassed!”

Marwan conveyed this criticism to the Caliph. So Othman sent his servant to Abu Dhar, requesting him not to make such comments. But Abu Dhar paid no heed to the request, saying: “Does Othman forbid me to recite the Book of Allah? I would displease Othman to please Allah, rather than displease Allah to please Othman.”

ABU DHAR IN SYRIA

Othman saw that Abu Dhar was not going to discontinue his attacks. So he ordered him to go to Syria. The order was obeyed but it only changed the direction of the attack. Muawiya, the shrewd Governor of Syria was a kinsman of the Caliph. With careful thought and great tact, he had built a strong base for the Omayyad power. All wealth and power was in the hands of his own men, mostly relatives or trusted friends. The common man was made to fight for the cause of Allah, but had little share in the booty, which went mostly to the chiefs and leaders of the Quraysh.

Abu Dhar could not but protest. “How clever of Muawiya to fill the public treasury with gold and silver, calling it Allah’s money! Why, it is the people’s money and must be distributed among them forthwith.” The argument made a strong appeal to the masses. People thronged round the outspoken Companion. Hatred against the rich began to mount. Abdullah bin Saba, the arch-enemy of Othman, was quick to make capital out of the situation.

Muawiya found himself helpless. Abu Dhar was too high for him to handle. But to let him carry on his campaign was to court disaster. So he wrote to Othman, requesting him to call back Abu Dhar.

DEATH IN LONELINESS

So Abu Dhar was back at Medina. People were by now openly critical of the Caliph’s policies. Abu Dhar addressed a meeting, declaring “Forewarn the people of Madina about the wide-spread
loot and the impending disaster.”

Othman found himself in a fix. He could not stop Abu Dhar from declaring what he believed was the truth. On the other hand, this was sure to make an already bad situation still worse.

At last the Caliph decided to send Abu Dhar to Rabdha, a small village near Medina. When he left, Ali went some way to see him off- Such was the esteem in which he was held by the greatest of Companions. However, this act of Ali displeased Othman.

In the lonely village, Abu Dhar had only the company of his wife and a maidservant. But even here, he continued un abated his criticism of the policies of the Caliph. This went on till his death in 31 A.H.

When the end was in sight, Abu Dhar called his wife and the maid and said, “When I am dead, you two wash me up, wrap me in a shroud and place my dead body by the road-side. When the first body of riders passes this way, tell them: `This is the dead body of Abu Dhar, the Companion of the Messenger of Allah. Help us bury him’.”

This last wish of Abu Dhar was carried out. His dead body lay by the road-side. Presently Abdullah bin Masood, another well-known Companion, came up with a party of men. They were riding on camels and were on their way to Medina, from Iraq.

As the party came up, a voice shouted out: “This is Abu Dhar, the Companion of the Messenger of Allah, help us bury him.” The announcement brought tears in the eyes of Abdullah bin Masood.

“The Messenger of Allah was right,” he said, “when he remarked: you are walking alone, you will die in loneliness and you will be raised alone on the Day of Judgement.”

The party dismounted and laid to rest the most out-spoken Companion of the Master. Thus ended a career dedicated to the cause of Truth. Abu Dhar showed by his example how a good Muslim should discharge his duties and assert his right as a citizen. He differed with Othman, but respected his authority. All the same, he exercised to the last his right to freedom of speech.

http://www.alinaam.org.za/library/hist_bio/abudharr.htm

September 10th, 2008 | Category: Reversion/conversion stories | Leave a comment