Loving My Limbs (The Unsung Heroes)

Told by Hafizah

I may like to see the best in people, but I am not naïve. I know full well that if I had to write out all the failings of the Muslim community, my hand would get severe repetitive strain injury before emptying even half my thoughts out. Everyone’s had that experience where a Muslim has done something that was disgusting, and yet you knew it was just typical behaviour for people within the community. But dwelling on it, wallowing in it and constantly complaining about it is going to help no one.

First of all, remembering the time someone didn't return your salām, the time an acquaintance searched through all your personal belongings, or the time some random stranger went out of their way to tell you you’re going to Hell... is going to make you feel awful! You’ll feel rejected, offended, disrespected, worthless and angry, and where’s the good in that?

Secondly, it’s going to make for one very unhealthy ummah. Investing your time and energy into ranting about all the harm Muslims do puts all your focus on what you don’t like about your fellow brothers and sisters in Islām. Shaykh Yahya Ibrahim put the dangers of this beautifully when he said:

“Thinking poorly of someone always precedes treating them unjustly.”

There’s a very strange psychological affliction called body integrity identity disorder (BIID). Sufferers feel like they need to have their limbs removed to feel happy within themselves. They know exactly where it needs to be amputated to take away their suffering and they may even try to do the job themselves. Their own limbs are enemies to them. To us, it’s mind boggling that someone would want to attack their own body and damage something that is meant to be whole. The Prophet (SAW) told us that as an ummah, we are supposed to be like one whole body, feeling sick if just one limb aches [Muslim]. Instead, we’ve begun to turn on our own limbs, irritated by their presence and eager to hack them off at any opportunity.

Our hate for the flaws of our ummah consumes our thoughts and we can’t deal with the conflict between what we should be and what we are. Rather than trying to solve the problem, we deal by trying to distance ourselves from the actions and the people that do them. We don’t realise that, in doing so, we become less complete because they’re a part of us. Every time we open our mouths to complain about another Muslim, we’re attacking our own selves and recruiting others in the fight.

“You who believe, avoid most suspicion. Indeed some suspicion is a crime. And do not spy and do not backbite one another. Would any of you like to eat his brother’s dead flesh? No, you would hate it. And have taqwa of Allāh, Allāh is Accepting of Repentance, Most Merciful.” (Hujurāt, 49:12)

Do what you can to try and better the situation. Seek help from someone who has the power to change things, teach by example or speak to the person and explain to them why they hurt you; but don’t rant about it and spread the hate and distrust to your friends! That is not going to make things better.

Told by Rukyya

I think one of the saddest things though is that it takes attention away from those amazing Muslims who have really inspired us. Just like everyone has those stories of Muslims who seemingly went out of their way to be cruel, everyone has those stories of Muslims who went out of their way to be courteous and kind.

Muslims are known for their crazy levels of hospitality and generosity. At the beginning of a year studying abroad, I had a family seriously offer for me to stay at their home for a whole academic year so I wouldn’t have to pay the expenses of downtown living. They’d literally only met me once or twice! I was welcomed and looked after in their home for a few days when I had nowhere to stay and the mother actually scolded me when I tried to buy them a few measly bits of fruit and sweet things to return the favour!

Sometimes it’s the smallest acts of kindness that stick with you. I’ll never forget the time when I was around 10 years old and my mum and I met a couple in an Islamic bookshop. I walked out with the adults as they carried on their conversation towards the couple’s car. I could tell the husband really wanted to include me out of kindness. He searched about in his vehicle and pulled out a moneybox with several different compartments in it. It looked like it had been used and may even have had handwritten labels stuck on. The man explained to me what it was for and gave it to me. I took it, actually quite impressed, even though I knew it was a bit of an odd gift. (I was a bit of a strange child who was actually quite good at saving up, so the idea of splitting your savings for different things seemed pretty neat!) As I held it and looked at my new toy, the man’s wife realised what he had just given me and made it clear how ridiculous a gift it was and told him to take it back. He did so reluctantly and gave me some sweets he’d found in the meantime. I remember it because even then I understood that he was so eager to be generous, to give me something, to make me happy, that he gave me anything he could. It didn't matter how silly it seemed, it was about the gesture, and that really touched me.

We all have these experiences buried somewhere in our minds. You may need to dust off all the cynicism, suspicion and doubt, but they’re there. Whether it was from a stranger, a good friend or a family member, we've all been the recipients of extraordinary levels of kind-heartedness or witnessed it given to others. These are the stories we need to be spreading. We could learn a lot from those unsung heroes. Just thinking of them makes our love and care for our brothers and sisters in Islām flourish, and sharing their shining moments with others cultivates that love in their hearts too. They teach us new ways to leave positive impressions on the people we meet and motivate us to up our game and treat others with iḥsān (excellence) too. If we all decided to focus on and share these kinds of stories, I think the body of the Muslim ummah would only become stronger.

We can complain about what we've become, or we can do something about it. I want every single person who reads this to remember just one Muslim they've met who has done something exceptionally kind and then to share it with other Muslims. Comment with it below, tweet it #LovingMyLimbs, post it on Facebook, write it on a card and take a picture to share, call a friend right now and tell them about it, write it as a blog, make your sister a cuppa and share it with her... Tell those stories! Then make it a habit. It’s not about praising the person who did it, so don’t mention a name, it’s about jump starting our love for our brothers and sisters in Islām and the religion we share, it’s about being proud of the people that we’re a part of. Before we can sincerely strive for what’s best for our ummah, we need to think well of them. So let’s get sharing some heart-warming stories and try loving our limbs, shall we?

Told by Fayza