Everyone has been asking me my conversion story for years but
I’ve always been hesitant in telling it. I try to simplify it
for people but I’m always omitting a lot of information. As far
as I’m concerned, my journey began at 17 years old (Grade 12)
and finally culminating at the age of 22 (a couple of weeks
before my third year of university in August 2005). InshAllah,
what I’ve written here will suffice to explain my journey toward
Islam. This story has been divided into the following sections:
-
Developing Comprehension and Analytical Skills
A disdain for all religions
especially Islam
-
Building
Bridges Based on Trust
Forgetting my hate for
Islam
-
Challenging
Islam
Understanding the world through this religion
-
Meeting the
Community and Conversion
Seeing the existence of
Muslims for the first time
I hope
my story is valuable to those who have been Muslim all their
life but struggle to understand their deen, new Muslims and
those looking into Islam still, inshAllah.
Developing
Comprehension and Analytical Skills
A disdain for all religions
especially Islam
I grew up in a
Catholic family and many of my relatives – particularly, some of
my aunts and definitely my grandmother – are devoted to their
beliefs. But, in my observations throughout my entire life, it
seems to be always about emotions. People are spiritually
uplifted, they begin to cry, put their hands up in the air in
worship and so forth. Such a thing never really appealed to me.
At least, not for long anyway. This is my personal experience.
Briefly in
high school, I got caught up in that scene for a bit by getting
involved in a Catholic youth group. The experience brought me to
a spiritual high but it didn't last long at all. The whole
belief system just did not sit well with me and I've always felt
uncomfortable with it. I've had it explained to me about a
million times before but it appealed more to my emotions than
anything else. At around the age of 17 (Grade 12), I
identified myself as an atheist because I felt that the concept
of God (what I knew it to be) didn't make any sense at all.
Instead of looking further into the issue, I sought the easy way
out by outright rejecting the concept as opposed to looking
further into it -- in particular, finding a belief system that
made more sense to me. For my immediate family,
they identify themselves as Catholics but it is not part of
our everyday lives. Sure, we have an altar with a huge picture
of Jesus, a crucifix, a huge copy of the Bible and a small
statue of the Virgin Mary. Every house that we've lived in, it's
always there. It's been the same bible, same picture of Jesus
and the same statue. And it's still there.
Ever since
elementary up until grade 11, I caused nothing but trouble for
my parents. I don't want to go into detail but I did not excel
well at school at all and I got with the wrong type crowd. I
definitely had my share of suspensions and ride homes at the
back cop cars with my mom crying not knowing what to do with me.
I had no direction and I had no intention of finding one. I was
definitely a juvenile delinquent and no one really expected much
out of me. I didn't expect much out of me either. I was
satisfied with playing Sega Genesis, playing basketball and
fitting in with what was considered to be the "it" crowd in high
school no matter what it took. I would join youth gangs with a
ridiculous sense of belonging.
It was around
grade 12 that I heard my first Rage Against the Machine song
called "Wake Up" (quite a coincidence because this was a
watershed in my development as a human being). I absolutely
loved watching the World Wresting Federation and the song
sounded like a wrestling entrance theme. The reason why I played
the CD was because I was doing my usual rounds of looking
through my older brother's stuff. I was listening to random CD's
and I came across this oddly titled album with a burning monk on
the cover. It was a couple of weeks in after listening to the
song over and over that I began to get interested in the lyrics.
So I looked at them online and I rapped along with it over and
over. Soon, I began to look into what the song is about. The
song is about the FBI's Cointelpro Movement -- the records are
now declassified and available to anyone in the public -- that
sought to undermine the civil rights movement and its leaders.
It was this song that first introduced me to Malcolm X and
Muhammad Ali.
"Set the
groove, I'll stick and move like I was Cassius, rep the stutter
stop and bomb a left upon the fascist ..."
"Networks at
work keeping people calm, you know they murdered X and tried to
blame it on Islam ..."
Those lines
absolutely floored me. I learned as much as I could about them
but I was attracted to them far more as political figures as
opposed to anything else. The song had such a complex topic and
I didn't know how to go about trying to understand it. I was
always fascinated about what the song is about but I was far too
concerned rapping along with it. Thus, I downloaded a 100
something pages Frequently Asked Questions about their lyrics
and I read it over and over. While I was doing this, I bought
all their other albums. I looked into every single one of their songs and I
was absolutely fascinated about what they were about. They
were always cryptic so it was difficult to understand them, but
I memorized that FAQ and carried it around with me all the time.
That FAQ was
the first time I ever read anything beyond the classroom for
fun. I absolutely hated reading. During that school year, it was
the first time that I tried to smarten up at school regarding my
school work. This newly found hunger for knowledge and this
hunger for people to hear what I have to say -- well … not
really what I have to say, but what RATM wanted to say but I
took it as my own – made me want to do my school work and speak
to people about political issues. Whenever I tried engaging
people in discussions, I resorted to pure rhetoric and the floor
was always mopped with whatever it was that I chose to say. It
was also the first time that I actually cared about what my
teachers thought of me and about my mark. Time and time again,
every single time I wrote an essay or whatever it may be, I
received either a barely passing mark or a note that said "See
me after class". Of course, I never did see my teachers after
class. I usually just threw away my essay as if I didn't care
but I was deeply hurt and disturbed about how far behind I've
gotten in school. I was trying my hardest and failing miserably.
I couldn't even write or form coherent thoughts to make my
points. It's straight up incoherent from poor research, terrible
grammar and just plain inability to articulate my thoughts.
Again, it hurt and it was frustrating. I separated myself from
the crowd that pulled me into a lot of trouble and in the end I
realized that I gained nothing as it relates to any practical
skills such as writing and reading from all those years.
I got close to
one of my teacher during that year. His name is Mr. Garvey and
I still have no idea what his first name is to this day. He
spoke to me about Rage Against the Machine and he really saw how
hungry I was for knowledge but had no direction. So he really
took me under his wing by just talking to me, encouraging me and
giving me books that he thought I might be interested in. So he
became a good friend who encouraged that activist spirit in me.
During this entire time as well I began honing my favorite hobby
up this day: rapping and spoken word poetry. My interest in the
latter kept me wanting to learn more because I was getting an
absolute kick out of rapping about it to fellow high school
students. My rap crew would always be rapping in the changeroom
and it would be packed with kids skipping class to listen to us.
I became known as “Politiks/Critical Mood” and I settled right
into the role as that “political rapper”.
Unfortunately,
it was also around this time that I developed an aggressive
distaste toward religion. I hated it and I made sure everyone
knew about it. At this point of my life, I definitely had
authority issues but not in the same way as before. It was no
longer about defying my parents or teachers. I had authority
issues in the bigger sense: with political leaders,
predatory capitalism, corporate globalization, wars, human rights abuses and
so forth. These were complex enemies that I identified to be
rooted in religion. I thought it made
people stupid and irrational. I thought I was enlightened. I
read about Saudi Arabia and other countries ran by Muslims and
it was enough for me to generalize Islam as a violent religion.
I was not yet fully developed politically to be able to utilize
proper analytical and comprehension skills to understand such complex issues.
Even though I
was into politics a lot, it wasn't until I got introduced to the
writings of Noam Chomsky that I really began to hone my
analytical, comprehension, communication and reading skills. I
learned so much from him. From then on, I went into OAC and I
still remember the feeling of getting my first ever 80% on an
essay. I was so happy to feel like I've finally caught up with
everyone else. I got into politics and history because of
rapping/spoken word. It’s what kept me wanting to learn. I got
into school because of my interest in history and politics. Both
of which eventually took me toward Islam a couple of years
later. Nevertheless, while I was aware of Islam, I did not know
any Muslim and I preferred to keep my distance from what I saw
to be a barbaric religion.
I still
remember where I was during 9-11. I was in the cafeteria playing
dominoes and freestyling with all my friends when a classmate
came to all of us saying: "Yo man, the United States is being
attacked." So being a bunch of nosy little punks we were, we
went running into a classroom that had a television. The place
was packed with both faculty members and students. Many of the
teachers were crying and I was in awe trying to figure out what
was going on. A couple of weeks later I learned that Osama bin
Laden, a Muslim, perpetrated the attack. For me, it was enough
to solidify my stance on religion. I thought: "This is exactly
what happens with religion! Religion kills! It causes genocide!"
People who mix religion with politics were dangerous people to
me. I perpetuated as much ISLAMOPHOBIA as I could that's for
sure because I thought I was fighting for justice. I thought I
had fully developed as a politically aware and informed
individual and it did not take me long to realize how flawed my
outlook was. So I ran with that attitude as I went into
university.
Building
Bridges Based on Trust
Forgetting my hate for Islam
During my
first year, I became good friends with two guys: Hassan (forgot
his last name) and
Bilal Hashmi. I didn't know they were Muslim when I became friends with
them. They always talked to me about politics and I'm sure I've
ranted a couple of times about my dislike for religion and how
it should be kept away from politics, how it should be kept
inside the home and so forth. They weren't confrontational guys
at all so I definitely rang their ears with my rantings. I
didn't know they didn't listen to music. I'd see them in the
library and I'll be like: "Yo, check out this NWA song called "F
--- the Police" and I would just stick my earphones into their
ear. They didn't get mad at me or anything, they just usually
nodded along. But, they weren't completely out of touch with the
world of music or hip hop. They were quite aware of Rage Against
the Machine and how political their lyrics are. So they spoke to
me a lot about that.
And then
somewhere down the line, I can't pinpoint when, I found out they
were Muslims and at that point I didn't really care. I was
friends with these guys already and I wasn't just gonna stop
being friends with them. They were really nice and mad cool.
Regardless, I didn't talk to them about Islam because I wasn't
interested in it. I was still very bitter. I just didn't
verbalize what I thought about their religion because I wasn't
interested in religion. I thought as long as they kept it away
from me and don't oppress people, then I'm cool. But these guys
won't oppress people, they were too nice I thought.
During my
second year of university, I continued my friendship with Bilal
and Hassan. I saw them practically everyday in our Latin
American classes and I'd always sit beside them. Whenever I see
them in the library I would always just talk to them. I'm sure
they probably referenced Islam a couple of times but I usually
just let it go over my head. I didn't show them my disdain for
religion because I didn't want to get into conflict with them.
Finally, during Islam Awareness Week, Hassan just randomly
suggested something to me: "Hey, you like books, right? You
wanna grab a copy of the Quran? There's IAW going on in the
student centre." I don't know what came over me but I just said:
"Yeah, sure." So we went and grabbed one and I didn't even
notice Muslims inside the student centre. As far as I was
concerned, I just got a book which I didn't touch until 3 to 4
months later. It just sat there in my room. Maybe I said "Yes"
because Hassan was such a nice guy or maybe I said "Yes" because
I genuinely like free stuff. In hindsight, he took a tremendous
risk in asking me if I wanted a copy of the Quran. I could have
easily said "Hell no!" but I didn't. I trusted him. I trusted
Bilal. I hated religion … hated Islam … but they were so damn
nice, I had to hide that hate, all that blame I placed on Islam
and Muslims. I hid it so much that I just said "Yes" out of
reflex. I forgot about it.
Three or four
months later, I didn't say anything about the Quran or anything.
I just continued with the way things were with Bilal and Hassan.
Same old, same old. Then somewhere down the line, something
sparked my interest about certain social functions. For example,
Hassan always goes into the washroom and then he always comes
out all wet. His beard was wet and his face was always freshly
dried. So one day, I either asked directly or it came up during
a discussion (I can't remember) in which the question "Yo, why
are you always wet?" came up. So he told me that he needs to
wash himself before he prays. So it went on like that for a
while, I would ask a question, he'd give an answer and I didn't
really care. I was just curious because I began to notice what I
thought were weird little quirks. Finally, that one day when I
went in into the old UTM library washroom and I saw some guy
washing his bare feet in the sink finally made sense. Before
that I just thought: "That's frickin' disgusting!"
I had a
gazillion questions: Why do you have a beard? Why do you wear
that? Why won't you eat Pizza Pizza because they used the same
knife on another pizza? Why don't you eat pork? Why don't you
listen to music? Why do you have leather socks? And on and on. That went on like that
for quite a while and they just answered all of them regardless
of how stupid my questions were. I think they said more than
their immediate answers but the fact that I can't remember if
they did or not is a testament to the fact that: I didn't care,
I was just curious.
Although,
sooner or later, my curiosity just became more and more complex.
My questions went from: "Why won't you trade me pepperoni pizza
for roti?" to "What is your perspective regarding politics and
religion? The separation of church and state?" "How do you feel
about 9-11?" And on and on. These were very important questions
to me and the answers they gave had to make sense before I
entertained any further discussion. I didn't want to hear an
answer that appealed to my emotions. I didn't want to hear:
"Muslims love everyone! God tells us to love others!" I wanted
to hear something political, something specific, something that
addresses the complexity of such a question. Alhumdullillah,
they gave it and I kept on asking. As always, I wanted to look
into the most controversial issues.
Challenging
Islam
Understanding the world through this religion
The pattern
was set: I asked, they answered and I cut them off when I wasn't
curious anymore. Eventually I picked up that copy of the Quran
that I got with Hassan from IAW at the Student Centre and I read
it. I read it and I had tons of questions. I highlighted the
crap out of it, I made notes on the side and there were things
in there that came across in a bad way to me because I was
looking for negative things. I was aware of the negative things
people say. Muslim men abuse their wives, so I looked for those
verses. Muslims are terrorists and are particularly violent so I
looked for those verses. Islam is an oppressive religion so I
looked for those verses. And I found them and I went to Hassan.
I told him which verses I thought were wrong and not right. He
explained to me that hadiths are necessary to understand the
Quran. So I went to Soundvision where I met Adeel, Humaid and
Said (brothers from University of Toronto). I bought Bukhari's
Hadith book, I read it halfway, page 400 something and finally I
went to Hassan with a list of questions: Why is this book going
backwards? Why are there paragraphs repeating? Why does every
paragraph end or begin with “Narrated” by some person I have
never heard of before? What’s up with the chapter titles? (ie.
To treat one’s family in a polite and kind manner) I thought to
myself: “What a poorly edited and put together story.” Hassan
answered me with: "Oh, no, these are for references, you need
scholars to understand what the Quran says or hadiths say on a
particular issue." Thus, the school year ended and I was still
looking into it. I also began to pay attention to the religious
development of Malcolm X and Muhammad Ali as well by going
beyond their political contributions.
Hassan and
Bilal gave me various sites to look out for these things called
"fatwas". So during the summer, I read every fatwa I found
online and went on shopping sprees galore at Soundvision. Keep
in mind I wasn't a Muslim yet, I was just curious. I also came
across a couple of sites regarding prayers and they were all in
Arabic and transliteration. Apparently, people memorize these
things if they want to pray. So I decided to take a shot at it
because I had a gazillion rap verses in my head anyway. I had no
intention to begin praying though. So I started memorizing them
for fun. Around this time, I also got involved more with student
activism at UTSU downtown. I met Shaila Kibria in my American
History class and she kept bugging me to join the Equity
Commission (she was VP Equity at the time) at St. George and I
guess she found it odd that I was interested in events
pertaining to Muslims. So, she got me involved and I went to an
Islam & China event by the IHYA Foundation and UTSU. That
experience was particularly awkward because I was asked to go up
on stage to assist two acrobat dancers -- two women wearing
really tight and skin colored clothing (Shaila thought two men
with baggy clothing were supposed to come). My task was to light
up a set of candles and bring it to them. When I went on stage
to hand them the candles, I went too fast at one point and they
almost went out. There's nothing like going in front of a Muslim
audience that you've been observing for months and almost
embarrassing yourself.
I remember coming away with
such a positive outlook on Muslims after the event because
despite the two scantily clad women stretching in very
inappropriate ways, the very orthodox/traditional looking crowd
still applauded with enthusiasm.
During that
summer as well, I saw Bilal and Hassan sporadically and I would
talk to them about the stuff I've learned. I would even have
them hear what surahs I just memorized too. Bilal asked me why I
was memorizing them one time and I just said: "I don't know, it
sounds cool." But he never really dug beyond that.
During all
this time, I was reading everything I could find on Muslims,
Islam and political issues. You name it, I tried to inform
myself about it. What I loved about Islam was that nothing was
hidden. Everything had an explanation that made sense. Even the
ones that didn't make much sense to me were valued because I
appreciated how it was readily available for me to devour. The
scholarship behind everything was so appealing to me. Differing
opinions, different rulings, the history and so forth. I
remember learning about the Compact of Medina and thinking how
revolutionary it was. It was all laid out, everything had an
answer. The answers I was given were rational and did not
attempt to pull at my emotional strings. If that was the case, I
would have shut down and went on to something I found less
annoying.
Meeting the
Community and Conversion
Seeing the existence of
Muslims for the first time
During that
summer as well, I joined a Muslim group on MySpace and I
followed a lot of the things discussed in the message boards.
Through that site, I met a sister from New Jersey (Sister Sabra).
I still haven't met her in person, just spoke online through
MySpace and eventually on MSN. She told me of a Muslim message
board called IslamicaWeb.com – which, by the way, a lot of U of
T students frequent – and so I joined it keeping a low profile.
Posting here and there and just reading things that people say
or talk about. Eventually, she connected me to another brother
who lived in Vancouver and we got to talking about Islam too. It
was at this point that I got my first glimpse of how Muslims
think and what they think about. It was my first glimpse into
the Muslim community.
At one point,
Hassan took me to the Salahadeen Islamic Centre in Scarborough
to listen to a speaker named Muhammad Al-Shareef. I can't
remember the lecture at all because I was far too pre-occupied
with observing the functions at the mosque. I was particularly
entertained with the "thug" looking brothers walking in and
disappearing. When I saw them again, they have all changed into
the traditional Muslim clothing (thobes and kufis). When the lecture was done, there was the call to
prayer. Hassan suggested that I just imitate everyone or just
sit in the prayer room but I felt too uncomfortable so I went
outside. I sat on the curb as I watched a stream of brothers and
sisters go into the mosque for maghrib (of course, I didn't know
it was called that at that time). I remember thinking how
beautiful the call to prayer was and a part of me wanted to go
inside and pray too but I wasn’t sure. After that, I just went
home. I was aware of the fundamentals in Islam but I learned
about them sporadically. The concept of the "Five Pillars" was
something I didn't hear (or, wanted to hear) about until later
on when I realized that I knew about them already through my
other readings.
The same night
that I came home, the brother that Sister Sabra connected me to
asked me if I believed in everything I was learning: the concept
of One God, his Angels, the Day of Judgment, the Prophet
Muhammad (peace and blessing be upon him) and the Hereafter. To which I answered, "Yeah, I do."
At that point he told me that I was one step away from being a
Muslim and that I should take the shahadah and to not delay it.
I had no idea what the shahadah was so I asked him. He explained
to me what it was and I verified what he said by reading about
it online and in the books I accumulated since I began asking my
random questions to Bilal and Hassan for the next few hours.
Afterwards, I sat for a good hour or so just thinking about
everything, all that I've learned and everything I went through
since I developed my hostility toward Muslims (even before that
when I first began developing a political identity even). In the
end, I said it right there and then and I said it to Hassan
during the first day of school just to be sure I did it right.
I remember the
feeling, I was so excited and I told all my Muslim friends:
Bilal, Hassan and Shaila. Surprisingly, they all said they
didn't see it coming and that they just thought I was curious.
According to them, I showed a fanatical zeal when it came to
learning about whatever got my attention. I was definitely
curious but I just kept on going because I trusted them. So I
took the shahadah a couple of weeks before my third year of
university started but I still didn't know how to pray. I knew
all the surahs but I didn't know how to put it all together.
During the first week back, Hassan began to teach me how to pray
and I began to join the brothers in the prayer room. I was
really nervous and terrified (a bit silly too) to say the least.
Suddenly I started noticing all these Muslims on campus which I
swear I have never seen or noticed before. I saw all of them and
it's an overwhelming feeling. I remember feeling a bit weird
praying, doing all those movements and I definitely had my share
of awkward moments in the prayer room. One time, I went to join
a congregation and I stood about 3 inches from the wall so a
brother had to pull me back while he was doing his prayer
because there was no way I would have gotten down for sujood.
Another time, I went into the prayer room to pray by myself and
a brother came by and tapped me on the shoulder. At that time I
didn’t know what that meant. I ignored him but by the second
time, during the third rakaat, I stopped and looked back at him
and asked if I could help him with anything. He was obviously startled because he just
wanted to join me in prayer. It also took me a while to get used
to greeting fellow Muslims. The exchange of "Assalamu-aleykum,
brother!" with "What's up?" on my end went on for quite a while.
Nevertheless,
there was nothing more terrifying than joining my first ever
large gathering for prayer during Ramadan. I went with Hassan
and I was absolutely terrified because I felt like everyone was
looking at me and knew I was new to all this. I was worried that
I might do something improper that would get everyone mad at me.
I broke my fast by eating a date and having a drink of water. I
placed the plastic cup on a table and Sister Anika (UTM MSA VP
at that time) came up to me and told me to "Please throw away
your cup." It's such a tiny thing but I felt embarrassed after
that and after the prayer, I didn't eat and I just went home. I
was really overwhelmed. But, alhumdullillah, in time I got used
to everything. Everything felt natural and I began to get
settled in.
I met a
gazillion Muslims (both brothers and sisters). Suddenly, it
wasn't just Shaila, Hassan and Bilal anymore that I was around (I guess, Malcolm X and
Muhammad Ali too who I kept in mind throughout my entire
journey). New waves of new topics and
questions came about and I had to deal with them. Some I handled
in an excellent manner and some not so much. I made a lot of
mistakes and I had my shares of ups and downs and burn outs. To
me it was all about passion and it still is about that. When I
want to learn about something I either throw all of myself in or
not at all. It keeps me interested and keeps me hungry for
knowledge. Such an attitude has its negative and positive sides
to it because burning out will make you neglectful of your
duties as a Muslim, but I never would have walked toward Islam
if it was not for passion.
What will be
obvious to people is how rational the process was to me. I
gained my spirituality by analyzing and making sense of issues
pertaining to Islam. It was not about emotions. It was about
things making sense. I think this fact is evident in that while
I become neglectful of my duties as a Muslim sometimes when
negative emotions take a hold of me, my belief system and values
always remain constant and firm. This is something I always
struggle with but I intend on winning. I find comfort in the
order that Islam -- the orthodoxy, the traditions, the sunnah,
etc. -- brings into my life.
Alhumdullillah,
I'm still firmly rooted in this struggle to strive for my deen.
I look forward to the bigger things yet to come and even the
small things such as finally mustering the courage to wear a
thobe. Now I deal with everything as a Muslim and I struggle
to be guided as a Muslim. It's been a long journey and I
experienced a lot, but it was the best decision I ever made in
my life.
My
Conversion to Islam