An Unexpected Journey to the Paradise of the Caribbean

Barbados: July 2022

It was Friday, the 22^nd of July 2022, when my esteemed teacher, Muftī Rada’ al-Haq Ṣāḥib from Madrasa Zakariya in South Africa, arrived on British soil. His previous visit to these shores had been probably over a decade ago, and though I had been blessed with meeting him in South Africa some five years prior, an increasing sense of urgency had been growing within me. The reality of his advancing years weighed heavily on my heart—each opportunity to sit at his feet and absorb his wisdom felt increasingly precious, perhaps even fleeting.

The timing of his visit presented a particular challenge. My weekend was already committed to several programmes—ones that propriety and responsibility would not allow me to cancel. Adding to this predicament, my car was languishing at the dealer’s, requiring extensive repairs with parts frustratingly on backorder. When news reached me that Muftī Rada’ Ṣāḥib would be visiting Leicester on Wednesday before departing from Heathrow, I reached out to his hosts with what seemed a modest request—might they consider a brief stopover in London enroute to the airport? It was, admittedly, a long shot, especially given how such programmes rarely adhere to their scheduled timings.

At precisely 6:40 pm on the Monday evening—the exactness of the time etched in my memory—my phone rang. It was another teacher of mine from Blackburn, Muftī Shabbir Ṣāḥib, his voice carrying a gentle reproach as he questioned why I hadn’t yet visited my teacher Muftī Rada’ Ṣāḥib. After explaining my circumstances, he presented an unexpected opportunity: would I be interested in chauffeuring Muftī Ṣāḥib from Gatwick to Heathrow on Wednesday morning? The conversation then revealed an intriguing development—Muftī Ṣāḥib’s itinerary had changed. He would now be travelling to Barbados for two days, returning to the UK on Saturday for a final programme in Leicester before his journey back to Johannesburg.

Rather than simply planning to meet Muftī Ṣāḥib in the UK, I began contemplating the possibility of accompanying him to Barbados. What began as a simple thought—checking flight prices to Barbados—led me to look into different options. Virgin Atlantic’s summer holiday fares were predictably steep at around £1,800. Muftī Ṣāḥib’s routing was through British Airways from Manchester to Gatwick, then onto Heathrow for the Barbados flight. Curiously, this ticket was only purchasable from Manchester at about £1,050; attempting to book just the London-Barbados segment proved impossible. This initial research would eventually materialize into a journey of valuable experiences and learning.

In what felt like divine orchestration, I reached out to Mawlānā Siraj Bhana in Barbados—a connection forged a few years ago when we shared a room during Hajj. Mawlānā Siraj, who graduated from Darul Uloom Bury in 2007, had established himself as both a successful businessman and a dedicated servant of Islamic education through his founding of the Sirajul Ulum Institute in Barbados. As expected, he was intimately involved with Muftī Ṣāḥib’s visit and extended a warm invitation. Though I was only 20% inclined to make the journey—particularly given my reluctance to travel to Manchester for the flight—what unfolded next was remarkable.

Mawlānā Siraj’s resourcefulness revealed an unexpected path: a Virgin Atlantic flight available for air miles plus £343 in taxes and fees, departing the very next morning at 9:20 am. He also secured availability on the same BA flight that would carry Muftī Ṣāḥib back on Saturday. The decision to travel across continents with less than 15 hours’ notice weighed heavily—there were work commitments to consider, plans to reorganise.

In this crucial moment, I turned to spiritual guidance. Sitting quietly, I spent a few minutes in devotion: reciting tasbihs, performing the short istikhāra supplication, and engaging in meditation, seeking Allāh’s guidance. As I have learned, turning to Allāh’s remembrance in moments of decision is invaluable—for He possesses knowledge beyond our understanding.

The confirmation I sought came through my wife, who had just completed her ‘Asr prayer. Her words were simple but profound: “You should go. We don’t know when an opportunity like this—to accompany one of the world’s most knowledgeable Muftīs—would present itself again.” With this encouragement, I asked Mawlānā Siraj to proceed with the booking.

Within the span of sixty minutes, I had committed to a journey that would take me across the Atlantic—a first in my travels, having never before decided so swiftly to venture so far. Alḥamdulillāh, the flights were secured, but now began the whirlwind of preparation that would carry me through the night.

My first priority was attending to my commitments. I methodically contacted everyone I was scheduled to meet in the coming days, explaining the extraordinary circumstances. Following a personal tradition that had become sacred to me over years of travel, I reached out to my father (may Allāh have mercy on him). This wasn’t merely a courtesy—I had always made it a point to either meet him in person before any foreign journey or, at minimum, seek his prayers and blessings over the phone. This protocol was one I had never broken, understanding the profound importance of parental blessings before undertaking any significant journey.

The matter of reaching the airport proved to be its own adventure. I began contacting local taxi drivers, only to find most were already committed to other appointments. Finally, a driver agreed to collect me at 5:45 am—a timing that seemed perfect for the original flight schedule. However, just after midnight, the carefully laid plans began to shift. A message from Mawlānā Siraj arrived, informing me that the flight had been delayed—now departing at 10:10 am instead of the original 9:30 am.

Hoping to adjust the schedule for more rest, I messaged the taxi driver about a later departure. The response, which came only after Fajr, brought another change—while he couldn’t make it himself, he had arranged for another driver who could collect me at 7:00 am. After careful consideration of London’s unpredictable morning traffic and the importance of reaching the airport with ample time, I decided this would be cutting it too fine. The solution was to rely on the modern convenience of Uber, which would allow me more flexibility in departure time.

Despite the extraordinary circumstances and the myriad details requiring attention, Allāh blessed me with approximately four hours of sleep that night—a mercy that would prove invaluable for the journey ahead. This rest, though brief, was sufficient to prepare me for what would become one of the most memorable journeys of my life.

Tuesday 26 July 2022: The Journey Begins

Alḥamdulillāh, I began my journey at 6:40 am. The early morning London traffic turned what should have been a quick trip into an hour and twenty-five minute journey, reaching Heathrow at 7:10 am.

The scene at Virgin Atlantic counters at Gate A was overwhelming—a mass of travellers that seemed endless. Subḥān Allāh, through Allāh’s grace, my eyes caught a discrete sign indicating Caribbean flights could be processed at Gate B. This observation reinforced what every Muslim traveller knows—Allāh makes a way when we remain observant and patient.

My attempt at self-service check-in via the kiosks hit a snag—the need for credit card verification coupled with the machine’s lack of a scanner forced me into the seemingly endless bag-drop queue. Allāh’s mercy manifested when a Virgin Atlantic representative appeared, clipboard in hand, calling for Barbados-bound passengers. This intervention took me from the back of the serpentine queue straight to the front.

The security process became another exercise in tawakkul. Directed to Gate G, I found myself at the bottom of a staircase in a queue that took six minutes just to ascend. Having experienced the ease of priority lanes during my recent Jordan trip in business class, I now joined thousands of others in the regular queue. When we reached the one-third mark, officials redirected us to distant security gates—though still time-consuming at twenty minutes, Alḥamdulillāh, we moved forward.

By Allāh’s grace, boarding commenced around 9:45 am, and I was grateful for my Premium Economy seat assignment. At over six feet tall, the extra space wasn’t merely a luxury but a blessing from Allāh, particularly as I hoped to accomplish some reading and writing work during the flight. The window seat, with just one neighbour, was another small mercy for the journey ahead.

Two Previous Visits

My connection with Barbados had been established through two previous visits, each distinctly different in nature. The first journey was particularly meaningful, having been invited by Ḥāfiẓ Ibrahim Ukadia to celebrate his son’s completion of Qur’ān memorisation. The second was meant to be a brief stopover enroute to Trinidad—planned with precise timing to arrive at 3:30 pm, allowing time for a beach visit and meetings with local friends and ‘ulamā’ before an early morning flight. However, Allāh had other plans, and a three-hour delay meant I only reached when darkness had fallen and missed the beach.

An Unexpected Journey to Suriname: The Darul Uloom Inauguration

During that first visit, after delivering my talk at the Al Falah Madrasa’s ḥifẓ completion program, an unexpected opportunity arose. Mawlānā Salim Dhorat Ṣāḥib arrived from the UK the following day, and plans emerged for him to travel to Suriname for a Darul Uloom inauguration. When Hafiz Ibrahim extended the invitation to join for two days, I accepted, and we found ourselves arriving in Paramaribo, the capital city, late at night.

We spent the night in a house by the madrasa, with the inauguration program scheduled for the following evening. This institution held special significance—established by Muftī Basheer, son of Mawlānā Yusuf Piprawala from Barbados. The senior Mawlānā has been instrumental in spreading Islam throughout the Caribbean, particularly in Trinidad and Suriname, and had dedicated his son to serve in Suriname. Muftī Basheer, who is also Hafiz Ibrahim Ukadia’s father-in-law, had finally realized the vision of this beautiful Darul Uloom building. His presence, always dressed in immaculate white from his clothing to the frames of his glasses, seemed to embody the purity and light of his mission – a visual reminder of the Prophet’s (Allāh bless him and give him peace) love for white garments. While advanced Islamic studies (‘ālimiyya classes) weren’t yet implemented, they remained part of the future vision.

Suriname revealed itself as a country predominantly covered in forest, where camping was a popular activity. Paramaribo’s tropical climate, with its distinctive greenery and rainfall, reminded me of less developed regions in India. During our tour, we encountered what appeared to be one of the country’s largest mosques—though we discovered it was actually a Qadiani worship centre deceptively presented as a mosque. The city’s Chinese establishments offered counterfeit designer goods, while other phone shops displayed devices at prices that undercut Barbados rates, prompting some of our Barbadian companions to make purchases.

The city of Paramaribo stands as a testament to colonial heritage, where Dutch influence melds with tropical surroundings. Its historic centre, recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site, showcases remarkable wooden architecture—a distinct feature of its colonial past. The buildings, predominantly white in colour, display an elegant fusion of Dutch architectural principles adapted to the tropical climate.

The most striking aspect of these structures is their preservation despite being constructed primarily of wood—a material that typically struggles against the region’s humid conditions. Yet here they stand, their facades adorned with characteristic shuttered windows and high ceilings designed to combat the tropical heat. The streets, laid out in a systematic grid pattern typical of Dutch urban planning, tell stories of a bygone era while still serving the city’s modern needs.

While Paramaribo boasts numerous historical sites including Fort Zeelandia along the Suriname River, the Independence Square (Onafhankelijkheidsplein) with its Presidential Palace, the bustling Central Market (Centrale Markt), the serene Palm Garden (Palmentuin), and the large  wooden Saint Peter and Paul Cathedral, our brief stay and the primary purpose of our visit meant we couldn’t explore all these attractions. However, even our limited tour of the city center provided a fascinating glimpse of its colonial architecture and historical significance.

The true highlight of our visit was the inauguration ceremony of the Darul Uloom. Mawlānā Saleem Dhorat Ṣāḥib delivered the keynote lecture and made duas, preceded by an address from a local scholar. This scholar, an alumnus of the Islamic Dawah Academy in Leicester, delivered his talk in what the local community calls Hindustani—a modified form of Urdu preserved by the Muslim community since their ancestors’ migration from India. This linguistic preservation serves not only as a means of communication but as a living connection to their South Asian Islamic heritage, maintained across generations despite their geographical separation from the subcontinent.

The geographical and colonial legacy of this region created a fascinating linguistic tapestry. Suriname, as a former Dutch colony, maintained strong connections with Holland, evidenced by the significant Surinamese population there and their use of Dutch. Right next door, Guyana’s British colonial past left it English-speaking, aligning with most Caribbean islands. French Guiana remained Francophone, while Brazil to the south spoke Portuguese, and nearly all other South American nations used Spanish—a remarkable confluence of European languages in neighbouring territories.

This journey provided an unexpected blessing, quality time with Mawlānā Salim Dhorat Ṣāḥib after many years. We shared a meaningful bond; I had studied Mu‘allim al-Ṣarf, a text on Arabic morphology, during my first year of the ‘ālim course under his guidance in Darul Uloom Bury, before he departed following his father’s passing. Beyond our teacher-student relationship, we shared a family connection—he being my father’s distant cousin. After his departure, I would seek opportunities to visit him in Leicester, both at his home and at the then-newly established Islamic Dawah Academy on Melbourne Road. I fondly recall one occasion when, along with my classmate Mawlānā Salim Seedat of Blackburn, we engaged in conversation until Fajr prayer. This Suriname trip offered precious moments with him—highlighting how travel often allows for more meaningful interactions with scholars than their busy schedules at home permit, free from usual constraints and formalities.

Back to Barbados

Upon returning to Barbados, I made a point to visit Mawlānā Yusuf Piprawala (b. 17 July 1924), the most senior scholar in the Caribbean. Then at 99 years old by the Gregorian calendar (surpassing 100 years according to the Islamic calendar), he remained remarkably active—still walking, talking, and maintaining good health. His journey of service began after graduating from Dabhel in 1948, studying under scholars like Shaykh Ḥusayn Aḥmad Madanī, marking the beginning of a lifelong commitment to spreading Islam across the Caribbean after he settled in Barbados to teach maktab.

The foundations of Islamic da‘wa in the region were initially laid by Bhai Padia, who later became the amīr of the South African Tablighi Jamaat. He led the first tablīgh delegation to both Barbados and Trinidad. Mawlānā Piprawala built upon this foundation, significantly expanding the work to Guyana, Suriname, and Panama. His dedication to establishing Islam in these regions was so profound that he dedicated one of his sons to continue the work in Suriname.

His efforts were particularly instrumental in sending a South African jamāt to Trinidad, which eventually led to the establishment of a Darul Uloom there. During our meeting, he demonstrated remarkable wisdom and tact in his approach to da‘wa. Knowing the Tabligh Jamaat principle of avoiding direct da‘wa to scholars, he presented me with a letter written by one of our elder scholars about the importance of da‘wa, asking me to read it and explain it to him. This was his subtle way of offering inspiration and encouragement—an approach that reflected both his wisdom and his unwavering commitment to the cause of da‘wa. Even at his advanced age, this mission clearly remained his life’s purpose. May Allāh preserve him.

I had the opportunity to visit the grounds where the new Al-Falah School and Madrasa were under construction. This project represented an expansion of the existing Al Falah institution, where I had previously given a talk during a ḥifẓ completion program during my first visit to Barbados.

Mawlānā Ibrahim Bhana, who serves as the Head of the Jamiatul Ulama (Council of Scholars) of Barbados, exemplified the warmth and hospitality characteristic of the island’s Muslim community. His pleasant demeanour was evident as he drove us to experience Barbados’s renowned beaches. These coastlines are truly remarkable—consistently offering clean, warm waters with numerous secluded spots perfect for modest recreation. The beach near the Hilton Hotel particularly impressed us with its magnificent waves.

Power, Fear, and Exhilaration of the Ocean

My first speedboat experience was both thrilling and humbling. Strapped in a life jacket, with a safety cord attached to the engine’s kill switch—a sobering reminder of the risks involved—I felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation as we cut through the waves. The raw power of the boat as it accelerated was startling; each time we hit a wave, the impact sent reverberations through the vessel and its passengers. Despite the safety measures, there was an underlying anxiety about the sheer speed—a primal fear as we skimmed across the water’s surface, occasionally becoming airborne before crashing back down onto the next wave.

Yet there was an undeniable thrill in this dance with the elements. The speed, the spray, the sudden drops and rises—all combined to create an exhilarating experience that simultaneously terrified and delighted. This powerful encounter with the ocean served as a profound reminder of Allāh’s majesty and might. The sea, while providing countless resources for humanity, remains untameable, its raw power a constant demonstration of Allāh’s awesome might and potential for both blessing and punishment. This reality demands approaching these waters with appropriate humility, submission, and gratitude to Allāh.

As our speedboat adventure concluded, my thoughts turned to the island itself. Having experienced firsthand the powerful waters that surround Barbados, I gained a deeper appreciation for how this unique geographical position has shaped both the island’s physical features and its historical trajectory.

A Glimpse into Muslim Barbados: History, Heritage and Contemporary Life

Barbados stands as the easternmost jewel of the Caribbean, a triangular island paradise measuring roughly 21 miles long and 14 miles wide. Located about 100 miles east of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, this sovereign nation sits at the fascinating boundary where the South American and Caribbean plates meet. The island’s capital, Bridgetown—locally known as “Town”—is its bustling heart, located in the southwestern parish of St. Michael. The landscape is divided into eleven distinct parishes, with St. Thomas and St. George being the only inland parishes—highlighting the island’s predominantly coastal geography.

The story of Muslims in Barbados represents a fascinating chapter in Caribbean history. Following the emancipation of slaves in 1834, Barbados, like other Caribbean territories, faced a critical shortage of plantation workers. Whilst islands such as Trinidad and Guyana would eventually host large Indian populations through indentured labour programmes, Barbados’s journey proved distinctly different.

The story of Islam in Barbados began over a century ago, when a silk merchant from West Bengal, arrived in 1913. He was soon joined by other Bengali Muslims who settled in Wellington Street, Milk Market, and Tudor Street in Bridgetown. These pioneers established themselves as itinerant traders (fērī wālā), serving rural communities who found it difficult to access Bridgetown’s markets. Their practice of offering credit—earning them the local name “Coolie man”—built lasting relationships with the local population. Many married local Barbadian women, creating family lines that continue to this day.

The Muslim community expanded further when Gujarati Muslims arrived in 1929, initially drawn by coal trading opportunities they discovered while in Guyana. These families, originating from specific villages in the Navsari District of Gujarat – including Baleshwar, Bardoli, Dabhel, Itarwa, Kapletha, Kacholi, Lajpur, Simlak, and Telada – found Barbados’s climate reminiscent of their homeland. Remarkably, their settlement predated Muslim immigration to Britain itself. Starting as hawkers purchasing wholesale from white merchants, they developed a successful business model offering interest-free credit with flexible payment terms. This approach particularly suited local customs, such as the annual replacement of household items like curtains. Working primarily from Saturday to Monday, they maintained a balanced lifestyle while building prosperous businesses. Today, their descendants have diversified into various professional fields and own numerous shops in town.

The island’s compact size and established local workforce meant Indian immigration remained relatively modest compared to other Caribbean territories. However, the Muslim community’s impact on Barbadian society has been profound and enduring, creating a unique blend of cultural and economic traditions that continues to enrich the island’s fabric.

For more on the history of East Indians and Muslims in Barbados, explore Bengal to Barbados: A 100-Year History of East Indians in Barbados by Sabir Nakhuda. This well-researched book chronicles the journey of Indian migrants who arrived in the early 1900s, their rise as entrepreneurs in Bridgetown’s trading sector, and their enduring cultural and religious influence on the island. Blending historical detail with personal stories, it offers a fascinating glimpse into a vital yet often overlooked part of Barbados’ multicultural heritage.”

Religious and Community Life

Through the dedicated efforts of scholars like Mawlānā Yusuf Piprawala and others, both senior and emerging, along with established madrasas, religious observance continues to flourish within the Muslim community. The island’s Islamic landscape is marked by several well-established masjids, each with its own unique heritage and community bonds.

The Jama Masjid, founded in 1950 and was known locally as the Kapletha masjid, stands as the island’s oldest mosque. Located near the Kensington Oval in Bridgetown, it primarily served the Piprawala, Pandor, Chothia, and now many other families too. The Madina Masjid had strong ties to the Telada community, while Makki Masjid serves the Bellville area. Masjid An-Noor, situated near the University in the Cave Hill area, and Darul Fazal, along with a Salafi-oriented masjid, complete the network of Islamic centres that dot the island. Each institution serves as a vibrant hub of Islamic activity, testament to the deep-rooted and diverse Muslim presence across Barbados.

Today’s Muslim population numbers approximately 3,500, including about 900 mature males. The community is generally prosperous, with strong connections to Britain. Many have relatives in the UK and travel frequently, often asking visitors if they know their British-based family members. This reflects their close-knit community experience in Barbados, where most Gujarati Muslims know each other. However, with the UK Muslim population now approaching 4 million, such personal connections across the entire British Muslim community are increasingly unlikely.

The community exhibits fascinating linguistic versatility, switching between their local Barbadian English (Bajan) and a more formal English accent when engaging with foreigners. Bajan dialect, while officially English-based, can be quite challenging for outsiders to understand, especially when spoken quickly. For example, “wuh” is commonly used for “what,” “dis ting” for “this thing,” “spee bot” for “speed boat,” and “so” is frequently used as an emphasis word.

While all Caribbean islands have their distinct Creole dialects, each presents unique challenges. Jamaican Patois is known for its strong African influences and distinctive rhythm, Trinidadian Creole incorporates significant Hindi vocabulary due to its large Indian population, and Eastern Caribbean dialects like those in St. Lucia and Dominica are heavily influenced by French Creole. In comparison, Bajan, despite its complexity, maintains closer ties to Standard English structure while incorporating its own unique vocabulary and pronunciations. This unique dialect emerged from a blend of West African influences and British English, and locals will often adjust their speech patterns when speaking with visitors, demonstrating their linguistic adaptability developed through generations of international trade and tourism.

As with any close-knit community, social dynamics reflect village-like characteristics. As I was advised before my first visit, “When you speak to anyone, think that you’re broadcasting on the radio—everyone will know what you’ve said by the next day.” While somewhat exaggerated, this observation reflects the intimate nature of smaller communities where every occurrence becomes noteworthy, unlike in bustling cities where such detailed social awareness is rare.

Beach Culture and Religious Practice

The Muslim community has developed a practical approach to enjoying Barbados’s natural beauty whilst maintaining Islamic values. Both men and women frequently visit the beaches, with women adopting appropriate covering to maintain modesty whilst benefiting from the ocean. When faced with inappropriately dressed beachgoers, the community’s approach, as explained by a senior scholar, is simply to maintain distance and lower their gaze.

The beaches themselves are remarkable—consistently clean and warm, with numerous relatively secluded spots suitable for modest recreation. The beach near the Hilton Hotel is particularly noteworthy for its impressive waves.

Living in Barbados proves remarkably comfortable for Muslims. Unlike many Western nations, there’s less self-consciousness about faith, no prevalent Islamophobia, and reduced pressure to conform to particular societal norms. The local population’s welcoming nature enables visitors and residents to feel genuinely at home.

However, the community’s history also includes some poignant chapters—some early Indians who married into the white community saw their children drift from their faith. Yet overall, whilst Indo-Barbadians have integrated fully into the broader society, they’ve maintained their cultural heritage, visible in business practices and religious observances.

Today, Barbados’s primary economic driver is tourism, and the Muslim community has adapted well to this reality whilst maintaining their distinct identity and religious values in this tropical paradise.

Returning to Barbados for the Third Time

Returning for my third visit to this Caribbean gem, the Virgin Atlantic flight proved comfortable with its hospitable crew. Landing at 2:20 pm  meant I could still perform Zuhr prayer in Barbados, avoiding the challenge of praying on the packed aircraft where standing space was scarce.

Having completed the online arrivals form beforehand proved beneficial. Immigration was remarkably swift, taking barely a minute, and the priority-tagged luggage appeared within five minutes. By 2:36 pm, I had emerged from Grantley Adams Airport—a relatively modest facility whose motto “Welcome Home to All” was warmly echoed by the immigration officer as she returned my passport. The immediate embrace of tropical heat and verdant surroundings created an instant sense of welcome.

Mawlānā Siraj Bhana arrived within minutes, driving us to his new residence in Crystal Heights, just north of Bridgetown. After lunch and a brief rest, I met Mawlānā Abbas Chothia, whose brother, Mawlānā Ahmad Chothia, has been a cherished friend since our first meeting in Toronto where he served as Imām. Mawlānā Ahmad possesses a sincere heart and the courage to voice his convictions without hesitation, a quality that has earned him both respect and, at times, considerable controversy. He is also usually my swimming companion in Barbados’s crystal blue waters—may Allāh bless him and grant him prosperity.

Mawlānā Abbas’s wife has been a student at Whitethread Institute, participating in both the Sībawayh class and my online Mastering Menstruation course. He expressed profound gratitude for these classes, noting how they had provided relief during COVID-19 and revitalised his previously dormant academic books (darsī kitābs). His sincere friendship has been a constant blessing during my Barbados visits.

Following ‘Aṣr, we enjoyed the beach until sunset, culminating in praying Maghrib with the waves gently touching our feet and knees—a stark contrast to British beaches. In the UK, the few sunny days see huge crowds flocking to limited coastal spots, where modesty concerns and overcrowding make visits challenging. My last UK beach experience probably dated back to a childhood school trip to Clacton.

At Jama Masjid for ‘Ishā’, I delivered a talk titled “Towards a Blissful Marriage,” followed by an engaging half-hour question-and-answer session. Afterwards, the Imām of the mosque and a hard working scholar, Mawlānā Aqil Bhula, and several fellow hajj companions took me to Oistins, a renowned fishing town on Barbados’s south coast.

Oistins Fish Cuisine

We dined at Uncle George Fish Net Grill, an establishment in Oistins frequented by the Muslim community. This fishing town is particularly famous for its Friday Night Fish Fry, a significant cultural institution. The vendors offer various fresh seafood including Flying fish (a Barbadian speciality), Mahi-mahi, Tuna, Swordfish, and Marlin, accompanied by local sides like macaroni pie, coleslaw, and grilled vegetables. While some venues serve alcohol, our chosen restaurant had been vetted by local ‘ulamā’. As locals say, no visit to Barbados is complete without dining at Oistins.

The day concluded around 11:30 pm—remarkably productive considering it would have been nearly Fajr time in the UK. Alḥamdulillāh for such a blessed beginning to the visit.

Wednesday 27 July 2022

The day began with Fajr at Markaz Da‘wat al-Haq, the madrasa of Muftī Said Adam Bhikhu, who hails from Telada, in India. His own educational journey took him from Takoli to Dewsbury, and then to Azadville, enriching his ability to serve the community. May Allāh preserve him. After prayers, I delivered a talk on spirituality from the Book of Wisdoms (Ikmāl al-Shiyam). The setting was uniquely pastoral—a converted farmhouse where students and ‘ulamā’ gathered amidst the natural symphony of squawking hens and wandering goats. It was heartening to see Islamic education flourishing in such a natural environment, the recently purchased farm providing both space for learning and a connection to Allāh’s creation.

After returning to Mawlānā Siraj’s house for a two-hour rest, I joined Mawlānā Abbas Chothia for breakfast at 9 am. By 11:30 am, we were due at Sirajul Uloom, where Muftī Muhammad Chothia had organised a maqra‘a (reading) of Al-Ḥizb al-A‘ẓam for students and teachers. Several ‘ulamā’ attended, and we completed just over one-seventh of the text. I took the opportunity to discuss various aspects of duas and explained the significance and comprehensiveness of certain supplications within the collection, concluding with granting them ijāza (authorisation).

The day’s schedule continued with a brief visit to Ḥāfiẓ Ibrahim Ukadia, my previous host during earlier visits to Barbados, followed by lunch at Mawlānā Siraj’s brother’s house nearby. After prayers at Makki Masjid, while waiting for Muftī Rada’ al-Haq’s arrival, I had to reluctantly decline Muftī Muhammad Chothia’s invitation to go snorkelling, despite my interest in the activity. I had come to know Muftī Muhammad well when we shared accommodation during Hajj—he is a sincere, hardworking scholar whose talents are matched by his dedication to religious knowledge. Though I couldn’t join him that day, I did take him up on his snorkelling invitation during another visit to the island.

At the airport, I had an unexpected reunion with Brother Riyad from New York, but originally from Guyana, whom I hadn’t seen in about fourteen years. He had been part of the NYU student group that had invited me for programmes around 2007.

When Muftī Rada’ Ṣāḥib arrived, he recognised me after just a few steps, despite our last meeting being over a decade ago. I shared with him that I had arrived the previous day specifically to spend time in his company. He was travelling with Mawlānā Bilal Bathia from South Africa and Muftī Yusuf, son of our teacher Muftī Shabbir Patel Ṣāḥib of Blackburn, UK. After they performed Zuhr at the airport, we proceeded to Mawlānā Siraj’s house for tea.

Rather than resting, Muftī Ṣāḥib expressed a desire to visit the beach. We stood together in the water, where he noted the sand’s excellent properties for cleansing the feet. We then spent about 30 minutes under a tree before heading to the new Masjid Nur for Maghrib prayers.

The evening continued with dinner at Mawlānā Siraj’s house, joined by another visiting scholar from Pakistan, Muftī Habib al-Rahman Darkhwāstī, grandson of the late Mawlānā Muḥammad ‘Abdullāh Darkhwāstī (d. 1415/1994). Muftī Rada’ Ṣāḥib inquired about the planned topic for his talk. When the local ‘ulamā’ mentioned they had scheduled a Q&A session focusing on finance, trade, and business matters, Muftī Ṣāḥib expressed his preference for a different subject. With characteristic wisdom, he suggested that such matters could be addressed either privately with him (not in a general public audience), their questions could be sent to his Dār al-Iftā’ at Madrasa Zakariya, or—in a moment that deeply touched me—consult one of his students, pointing directly at me as he spoke. This unexpected validation from my teacher was a profound honour. Ultimately, Muftī Ṣāḥib delivered a bayan at Madina Masjid after Isha, focusing on the broader and more fundamental topic of the virtues of halal income and the importance of avoiding the haram among other topics.

Thursday 28 July 2022

Morning Reflections: A Talk on Divine Remembrance

We prayed Fajr at Masjid Nur, after which Muftī Ṣāḥib delivered an illuminating talk on the dhikr (remembrance) of Allāh. He emphasized several virtues of dhikr, citing key verses including “اذكروا الله حتى يقال انه مجنون” (Remember Allāh until they say you are mad) and “من أحب الناس إليك” (Who are the most beloved people to you).He particularly emphasized the importance of including “Aal” in duas, explaining that it is the most comprehensive term. He elaborated that “Āl” encompasses followers in general, including the prophetic ṣaḥāba, ṣaḥābiyyāt, wives, family, relatives, and all Muslims.

Muftī Ṣāḥib then shared a beautiful exposition on how different parts of the body engage in dhikr. The eyes through crying, the ears through listening to what is good, the tongue through praising Allāh, the hands through giving, the feet through walking toward what pleases Him, the heart through maintaining a balance between fear and hope, and the soul through submission and contentment.

The session concluded with a practical demonstration where he led a dhikr session, repeating the formula of faith (kalima) several times while interspersing it with anecdotes and virtues of dhikr, followed by a concluding du‘ā’.

Breakfast followed Fajr at Mawlānā Muhammad’s house, a fellow graduate of Darul Uloom Bury. After a two-hour rest, we arrived at Mawlānā Yusuf Piprawala’s house. The Mawlānā, as in my previous visit, warmly welcomed us, particularly pleased to meet us as his grandson had studied iftā’ with Muftī Rada’ Ṣāḥib and is currently an imām in Canada.

We then visited the local Muslim cemetery to pay respects to Mawlānā Siraj’s parents, who had passed away just one day apart during Covid-19 in November 2021. Muftī Ṣāḥib offered du‘ās for them and all the deceased. We then drove onto our next destination.

The Atlantis Submarine Tour: A Journey into Ocean Depths

The Atlantis Submarine tour, one of Barbados’ most distinctive attractions, offers visitors a remarkable underwater journey descending 150 feet (45 meters) beneath the Caribbean Sea. Operating for over 35 years with an impeccable safety record, this authentic submarine experience provides a fascinating glimpse into Allāh’s underwater creation.

Our adventure began as we boarded a ferry to reach the submarine. After transferring to the vessel, we joined about 25 other passengers, seated back-to-back in two rows of 15, with viewing ports along both sides. From our position on the starboard side, we watched as the submarine detached and began its descent into the depths.

The transformation of Allāh’s underwater world became apparent as we descended—at 75 feet (23 m), fish began appearing in abundance, while the water’s colour shifted from surface blue to a deeper, greener hue. At 150 feet (46 m), the sea floor was clearly visible though coral was sparse. However, at 50 feet (15 m), we encountered a vibrant display of marine life—multiple types of colourful coral hosting diverse species of fish going about their daily routines. A highlight was passing by a shipwreck, now serving as an artificial reef.

It was a strange feeling to descend into the vast belly of the ocean, with many thoughts swirling around in my mind. I found comfort in knowing that so many people make this journey daily and remain safe. Yet, the profound realization struck me—only Allāh’s protection prevents us from being crushed by the sheer mass of water surrounding us and the pressure it brings to bear. This truly unique experience, far from ordinary daily life, became even more special in the company of the shaykh. I occupied myself with absorbing every detail of this remarkable environment, grateful for both the experience and the blessed companionship.

Throughout the 30-minute underwater journey, we witnessed the magnificent diversity of Allāh’s creation, reminding us of the Qur’ānic verse: “And it is He who subjected the sea for you to eat from it tender meat and to extract from it ornaments which you wear” (Naḥl, 16:14). After completing our exploration, we ascended and transferred back to the boat for our return to shore.

During our underwater journey, Muftī Yusuf recited the hadith of Umm Ḥarām bint Milḥān transmitted by Imām Bukhārī (2924):

قال: حدثني إسحاق بن يزيد الدمشقي حدثنا يحيى بن حمزة قال: حدثني ثور بن يزيد عن خالد بن معدان أن عمير بن الأسود العنسي حدثه أنه أتى عبادة بن الصامت وهو نازل في ساحة حمص وهو في بناء له، ومعه أم حرام. قال عمير: فحدثتنا أم حرام أنها سمعت النبي صلى الله عليه وسلم يقول: أول جيش من أمتي يغزون البحر قد أوجبوا. قالت أم حرام: قلت: يا رسول الله أنا فيهم؟ قال: أنت فيهم، ثم قال النبي صلى الله عليه وسلم: أول جيش من أمتي يغزون مدينة قيصر مغفور لهم. فقلت: أنا فيهم يا رسول الله؟ قال: لا. وزاد عند ابن أبي عاصم في الآحاد والمثاني (٣٣١٣): قال ثور: سمعته يحدث به وهو في البحر، انتهى.

Imām Bukhārī said: Isḥāq ibn Yazīd al-Dimashqī narrated to me that Yaḥyā ibn Ḥamza narrated to us saying: Thawr ibn Yazīd narrated to me from Khālid ibn Ma‘dān that ‘Umayr ibn al-Aswad al-‘Ansī narrated to him that he came to ‘Ubāda ibn al-Ṣāmit while he was staying in the courtyard of Homs in his building, and Umm Ḥarām was with him. ‘Umayr said: Umm Ḥarām narrated to us that she heard the Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) saying: “The first army from my umma to undertake a naval expedition has made [Paradise] mandatory [for themselves].” Umm Ḥarām said: I asked, “O Messenger of Allāh, am I among them?” He said, “You are among them.” Then the Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) said: “The first army from my umma to attack the city of Caesar will be forgiven.” I asked, “Am I among them, O Messenger of Allāh?” He said, “No.” Ibn Abi ‘Āṣim adds in Al-Āḥād wa ’l-Mathānī (3313): Thawr said: I heard him narrating this while he was at sea. Allāh Most High blessed us with the opportunity to hear this hadith in the depths of the water, and all praise belongs to Allāh Most High.

Some years later, I asked another teacher of mine Muftī Tahir Ghaziabadi Ṣāḥib about whether he had taken the submarine tour during his visit to Barbados. He mentioned he had declined out of personal caution regarding sea travel, citing a narration about the perils of sea travel. He clearly emphasized that he did not consider it prohibited—indeed, this particular narration has been classified as weak (ḍa‘īf) by hadith scholars including Imām Bukhārī, and the majority of scholars have maintained that sea travel is permissible. His decision was purely a personal choice. My own motivation for participating was purely to witness Allāh’s creation firsthand, finding in it signs of His majesty and power.

After this we had lunch at the late Dr Shafi’ Nagdee’s House. His son Rafiq and son in laws were present. The late Dr Nagdee has been one of the foremost host for scholars among the Barbados Muslim community. Numerous scholars and mashāyikh have been invited and hosted by him, such as our Shaykh Mawlānā Yusuf Motala, along with Pīr Ghulām Ḥabīb Ṣāḥib.

We then attended a funeral prayer at the graveyard of a relative of Mawlānā Siraj, and proceeded to another special landmark tourist spot of the island.

Muftī Yusuf’s scholarly dedication was evident throughout our journey. During our longer car rides, he would read from the chapter of knowledge of Sahih al-Bukhārī to Muftī Rada’ Ṣāḥib. It was a blessing to be part of these impromptu transmission sessions, witnessing the continuation of our tradition of seeking knowledge in every available moment.

Harrison’s Cave: A Journey into Earth’s Depths

After lunch, we made our way to Harrison’s Cave, a remarkable crystallized limestone cavern that lies deep beneath the limestone heart of Barbados—one of Allāh’s most magnificent natural creations on the island. Named after Thomas Harrison who owned the land in the early 1700s, this extensive cave system is located in the middle of the island.

The experience begins at the modern visitor centre with a short documentary explaining the island’s formation and the cave’s geological history. Rather than walking, visitors board electric trams for their underground journey. The 30-minute guided tour begins with a descent of 80 feet (24 m) through an engineered tunnel, after which the natural cave system reveals itself in all its glory. The cave maintains a constant temperature of around 27°C (80°F) with high humidity levels.

The journey takes visitors through a series of spectacular chambers, reaching depths of up to 160 feet (49 m). At one particularly impressive section, the tram stops and visitors are allowed to disembark, providing an opportunity to walk around and marvel at the cave formations up close. The Great Hall, the cave’s largest chamber, soars to heights of 50 feet (15 m), while crystal-clear streams flow through the cave system. This water, approximately one year old, has slowly filtered down from the surface through the limestone, reminding visitors of the Qur’ānic verse about water being the source of all life. The cave features stunning arrays of stalactites and stalagmites, formed drop by drop over thousands of years. Perhaps the most breathtaking features are the White Flow Formation, an enormous cascade of white calcite, and a magnificent waterfall plunging into emerald pools.

This remarkable underground world serves as a powerful reminder of the verse: “Have they not seen how We have created… and all the beautiful kinds of things We have caused to grow therein?” (Shu‘arā’, 26:7). Harrison’s Cave truly stands as one of the most awe-inspiring signs of Allāh’s creation in the Caribbean.

After exploring Harrison’s Cave, we proceeded directly to Muftī Dana’s residence, where Muftī Ṣāḥib took a brief rest and enjoyed some tea. Following ‘Aṣr prayer, he delivered a small talk specifically for the ‘ulamā’ gathered there.

The main program of the evening was held at Jama Masjid after Maghrib, featuring a series of inspiring speeches. Muftī Darkhwāstī opened the program, followed by Muftī Yusuf who shared moving insights about Afghanistan based on his recent visit. Muftī Ṣāḥib then delivered a powerful message about the strength and spread of Din, noting how Islam continues to flourish globally, with Barbados serving as a living example.

Our next stop was dinner at the home of Mawlānā Shuaib Bodiat Ṣāḥib, who had settled in Barbados in 2012. Despite his relatively recent arrival, he had established himself well, serving as the Imām at Madina Masjid while also running a successful Islamic goods and garments shop. His generous spirit was evident as he insisted that Muftī Yusuf and I accept gifts for our wives, though I simply made duas for his business’s blessing, increase, and protection.

The day concluded at Mawlānā Siraj’s house with a special hadith ijaza gathering for the ulama. Local scholars, including Muftī Muhammad Chothia and others, read the initial hadiths from the musalsalāt collection. Muftī Ṣāḥib mentioned his general ijāza from Shaykh Muḥammad ‘Awwāma and noted that he had heard most of these hadiths from Muftī Maḥmūd al-Ḥasan as well.

After this spiritually enriching day, we retired for the night.

Friday 29 July 2022: Day of Farewells

Our final day began with Fajr prayer at Muftī Said’s madrasa, followed by a meaningful dhikr gathering. Despite Muftī Ṣāḥib’s humble attempts to defer to the local practice, they insisted he lead the session. He first explained some virtues of dhikr and provided justification for collective remembrance, noting how the heart finds ease in communal dhikr. The session included one tasbih each of the supreme formula of faith “la ilāha ill Allāh” and then, “Allāh Allāh.”

After breakfast, we visited Muftī Said’s house—a particularly touching moment as it fulfilled his dream from weeks prior when he had seen Muftī Yusuf visiting, despite having no prior connection with him.

At Sirajul Ulum, Muftī Ṣāḥib conducted a brief hadith lesson on the Mishkāt al-Maṣābīḥ’s chapter on Salam, beginning with the first hadith of Sahih al-Bukhārī. He made special duas for the institute to become Siraj al-Islam (the lamp of Islam). At the time, the institute served 45-50 students, offering education up to the Mishkāt class.

After this Muftī Ṣāḥib rested, and Mawlānā Muhammad Chothia and some other scholars took us to the beach, where we experienced snorkelling and Muftī Yusuf tried jet skiing—a memorable experience thanks to their warm hospitality.

Friends in Barbados have a beautiful tradition of offering visitors local delicacies to take back with them—typically items like local fruits, vegetables, cane juice, and coconut water. Though I had not planned on any shopping, several friends and well-wishers insisted I accept some generous offerings. This generosity was particularly touching given that Barbados is known to be quite expensive for shopping, as most items must be imported by sea due to the island’s isolated location. May Allāh reward their heartfelt generosity.

Jumu‘a and Departure

The Friday prayers were distributed among three locations: Muftī Rada’ at Makki Masjid, Muftī Yusuf at Madina Masjid, and myself at the new Masjid Nur. After lunch at Muftī Dana’s house, we departed from Mawlānā Siraj’s residence at 3 pm, reaching the airport by 3:30pm.

We performed ‘Aṣr after mithl awwal (first shadow), with Muftī Ṣāḥib noting that this was the view of Imāms Abū Yūsuf and Muḥammad among the Ḥanafīs and thus perfectly acceptable. Muftī Ṣāḥib maintains the practice of not combining prayers while traveling—a stance I also follow despite my frequent travels, which exceed those of most others. I have consistently found it possible to pray each salah in its prescribed time.

Recently, some Ḥanafis have begun advocating for combining prayers, citing certain hadiths to justify its permissibility. However, this approach overlooks a crucial point: the founding Imāms and subsequent scholars of the madhhab had already carefully considered these same hadiths when formulating their scholarly positions. Making such concessions now could set a concerning precedent—within a decade, similar arguments might be used to challenge other established rulings, potentially eroding the foundational principles of the school. Of course, this concern primarily applies to those who value adherence to a specific fiqhī school.

When faced with limited space during flights or during food service, my approach is to pray sitting in my seat and then repeat the prayer after landing—a method I’ve found very practical. As a Hanafi, prayer combination is only permitted in ‘Arafa and Muzdalifa under specific conditions, a topic I’ve explored extensively in my Fiqh al-Imām: Key Proofs in Hanafi Fiqh.

A large group of scholars and students gathered to bid us farewell. The two days had been truly memorable, marked by extraordinary affection, hospitality, and generosity, especially from our host Mawlānā Siraj Ṣāḥib (may Allāh reward him).

While waiting in the airport lounge, I asked Muftī Ṣāḥib if I could visit and stay with him for a week or so at Madrasa Zakariya. His warm, immediate response—”absolutely you can come”—set the stage for another potential journey of benefit and learning. Indeed, he is a treasure of knowledge that cannot be missed, and I hope to benefit from his wisdom and guidance during a future visit.

We boarded the BA flight from Barbados. Muftī Ṣāḥib, clearly exhausted from the intensive schedule, slept for most it. Upon landing, they proceeded straight out with their hand luggage while I waited for my bag and proceeded to the north of England for a nephews wedding.

Closing Reflections on Barbados

My fourth visit to Barbados came later that same year, following journeys through Trinidad and Guyana. It was during this trip that I truly appreciated the extraordinary beauty of Barbados’s waters. Having experienced the reddish-black waters of Guyana, and even Trinidad’s picturesque coastal waters (especially when traveling “down di islands”, as they say in Trinni), Barbados revealed itself as a true aquatic paradise. The island’s position at the easternmost edge of the Caribbean, where it meets the Atlantic Ocean, blesses it with some of the most stunning waters in the region.

The western Caribbean coast of Barbados showcases serene, aquamarine waters that seem almost otherworldly, while the eastern coast presents a more dramatic seascape with rolling waves. It was only after visiting the neighbouring countries that I fully grasped what a unique blessing Barbados truly is. As the Qur’ān reminds us:

“And He is the one who has subjected the sea, so from it you may eat tender seafood and extract ornaments to wear. And you see the ships ploughing their way through it, so you may seek His bounty and give thanks [to Him]” (Naḥl, 16:14).

Indeed, the crystalline waters of Barbados stand as a testament to Allāh’s artistry—each wave, each shade of blue, a manifestation of divine beauty.

This realization served as a fitting conclusion to my Barbadian experiences, though the full stories of my travels and experience in Trinidad and Guyana deserve their own separate telling. Sometimes, it takes seeing other places to truly appreciate the exceptional nature of where you have been, and to recognize the countless signs of Allāh’s creation that surround us.

Reflections on Muftī Rada’ al-Haq Ṣāḥib

Muftī Rada’ al-Haq Ṣāḥib, born in 1950 and now 74 years old, has devoted his life to Islamic education through an extraordinary teaching journey. His path began at Akora Khattak, where he both studied and taught for six months. His quest for knowledge then led him to Karachi’s Binnōrī Town, where he spent two years specializing in iftā’ and da‘wa, followed by twelve years of teaching.

For nearly four decades since then, he has been a pillar at Madrasa Zakariya in South Africa. His dedication is particularly noteworthy as he has made the remarkable sacrifice of living apart from his family, who remain in Pakistan. Despite the physical distance, he maintains his commitment to religious education, visiting his family only once or twice annually.

What strikes one most about Muftī Ṣāḥib is his extraordinary simplicity in demeanour. Even in small matters, such as preferring to sit in the back seat of a car rather than the front, his humility shines through. Despite his age, he maintains remarkable mobility, though he now uses a walking stick. A recent knee operation has necessitated some adjustments—he now prays on a chair as getting up from the floor has become difficult, though the surgery has helped reduce his pain. His once henna-dyed beard is now naturally white, and when giving talks, his eyes often appear closed due to a long-standing issue with his left eye.

What’s truly impressive is his sharp intellectual engagement with the contemporary scholarly world. He maintains an encyclopaedic awareness of scholars, their works, and ongoing academic projects. When visiting any new masjid, he invariably inquires about the Imām’s background, their place of graduation, and demonstrates remarkable ability to cross-reference this information. This was evident when he mentioned his Al-‘Aṣīda al-Samāwiyya fī Sharḥ al-‘Aqīda al-Ṭaḥāwiyya,” asking if I had it and noting its relevance to my area of expertise.

Here are a few points I have noted from his trip. A more detailed record of the other anecdotes, sayings and rulings he shared during the trip can be found in Muftī Yusuf’s travelogue on IslamPortal.org.

His Approachability and Deep Insight

Muftī Rada’ al-Haq Ṣāḥib has always been remarkably approachable and engaging, possessing a sharp intellect that allows him to quickly grasp the essence of any discussion. An incident from around 2012 particularly stands out in my memory. During his visit to my home, he noticed a copy of the Ash‘arī text Tuḥfat al-Murīd ‘alā Jawharat al-Tawḥīd with ‘Abd al-Salām Shannār’s critical edition on my desk. His immediate recognition—”Oh, he has completed an edition of this work, this will be good”—surprised me, as I hadn’t realized his deep interest in theology. Only someone well-versed in the field would have been familiar with this editor’s work.

This interest in theological discourse has recently manifested in Muftī Ṣāḥib’s significant contribution: his two-volume commentary on ‘Aqīda Ṭahāwiyya, Al-‘Aṣīda al-Samāwiyya, which he had mentioned to me earlier. This work has emerged at a crucial time, addressing the growing confusion surrounding Ash‘arī-Māturīdī theological positions. It responds to a concerning trend where some scholars either remain unaware of these theological traditions’ significance, or have been influenced by Salafī anti-Ash‘arī-Māturīdī rhetoric and Shaykh Ibn Taymiyya’s theological positions. His commentary represents perhaps the first objective presentation of the Orthodox Ahl al-Sunna doctrine in Urdu, systematically addressing the confusions introduced by Shaykh Ibn Taymiyya’s theological interpretations in Urdu-speaking scholarly circles.

Contemporary Rulings and Guidance

During our discussions, I sought Muftī Ṣāḥib’s guidance on several matters. Regarding naming children Taha and Yasin, he indicated that he did not consider it appropriate. On the question of dealing with background music in shopping centres and restaurants, he advised that if one takes pleasure from the music, they should cover their ears and avoid it; otherwise, there is no need to do so as it would create unnecessary difficulty (they should just ignore it).

When I inquired about videography, his response was notably accommodating. Having remembered his clarification from 1997 about live transmission being permissible, I was curious about his current view. He suggested that those who take a strict position should consider whether it would be permissible to take passport photos for optional ‘umra travel if they considered photography ḥarām, among other compelling arguments.

Two Profound Insights

Muftī Ṣāḥib shared two particularly insightful observations about religious life and discourse. First, he emphasized the principle of maintaining healthy scholarly disagreement without antagonism, stating Fiqhī ikhtilāf hō, ‘inādī ikhtilāf na hō—”Let there be differences in jurisprudential understanding, but let there not be stubborn or antagonistic disagreement.” This principle reflects the traditional Islamic approach to scholarly differences, emphasizing respect and understanding even in disagreement.

His second observation touched on the challenges of religious work, noting that local religious work is often the most challenging because it involves inviting and engaging with people you know personally. This insight highlights the unique difficulties faced by those working to promote religious understanding within their own communities, where personal relationships can both facilitate and complicate the mission of spiritual guidance.

An Example of Scholarly Dignity: The Gift That Was Returned

Muftī Ṣāḥib shared a moving incident regarding Mawlānā Abū ’l-Wafā’ Afghānī (d. 1395/1975), who was renowned for editing and researching important Islamic texts in Hyderabad. His work included seminal texts like Imām Muḥammad al-Shaybānī’s Kitāb al-Aṣl and Al-Ḥujja ‘alā Ahl al-Madīna. Despite his significant contributions to Islamic scholarship, he maintained a principled stance of not accepting donations or gifts.

When Mawlānā Yūsuf Binnōrī learned of his extreme poverty and hunger, he arranged for the Miyā family to provide 500 Rupees, which he then forwarded to Mawlānā Afghānī. Upon receiving this sum, Mawlānā Afghani wrote to Mawlānā Binnōrī requesting the sender’s details so he could return the money. When Mawlānā Binnōrī responded that it was a gift, Mawlānā Abū ’l-Wafā’ insisted in his reply, citing the hadith “The upper hand is better than the lower hand.” Although Mawlānā Binnōrī explained that this hadith pertains to ṣadaqa (charity) rather than hadiyya (gifts), Mawlānā Abū ’l-Wafā’ remained firm in his position and returned the gift to the sender.

This incident beautifully illustrates the remarkable dignity and principled stance maintained by some of our earlier scholars, even in times of severe hardship. It also demonstrates their careful attention to religious principles and their determination to maintain their independence and integrity, regardless of personal circumstances.

The Four Types of Spiritual Connection (Nisba) and Their Prophetic Manifestation

Muftī Ṣāḥib shared a profound teaching from Shāh ‘Abd al-‘Azīz Dihlawī regarding the concept of nisba (spiritual connection) that can be transferred between individuals. He elaborated on four distinct types of this spiritual connection, each with its own unique characteristics and manifestations.

The first type is in‘ikāsī, which resembles a mirror’s reflection. Just as an image exists only while one gazes into a mirror, this spiritual connection remains present only during active engagement. According to Shāh ‘Abd al-‘Azīz, the Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) first attained this type of nisba by merely looking at Jibrīl (upon him be peace).

The second type is nūrī, based on the understanding that knowledge is light. This illuminative connection began in Madīna Munawwara and, like a lamp lighting other lamps, has spread throughout the world. The Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) served as the original powerhouse of this divine light. Shāh ‘Abd al-‘Azīz explains that this treasure of light was transferred through Jibrīl’s first squeeze.

The third type, fayḍānī, manifests as an emanation or overflow. Like an unstoppable ocean of knowledge that first erupted from Madīna Munawwara, it flows continuously like a mighty river. Through the second squeeze, the Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) received the ability to transmit this illumination to others.

The fourth type is ittiḥādī, perhaps the most profound. This connection develops when one forms such an intimate relationship with the source that the recipient becomes identical to the transmitter. Since Jibrīl (upon him be peace) was himself an embodiment of the religion, the final squeeze transformed the Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) into a complete manifestation of religion itself, affecting every aspect of his life, from his sleeping to his waking moments.

Abdur-Rahman Mangera

Completed on

17 May 2025

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