Best of You

 خَيْرُكُمْ مَنْ تَعَلَّمَ الْقُرْآنَ وَعَلَّمَهُ 

 "The best of you is the one who learns the Qur'an and teaches it." (Hadeeth)

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"Ha mama, this is Lutfi," he said, pointing his finger to me. "Ohh, ni lah dia Lutfi," replied his mom, studying me up and down through her thin glasses. I felt awkward, what she was looking for in me, I didn't know. "Ajar Hafiz agama banyak-banyak tau," she continued, then wound up the car window, and soon after drove off with her son.

Wait a minute, pause. That's it? What a short meeting, barely an introduction. The night was cold, I was in my pajamas and winter jacket outside my house on College St. OK, rewind.

Hafiz had told me earlier to come meet his mom that night. She might not get another chance to see me, since she would be leaving New Zealand soon. She had come to spend time with her son here and decided she wanted to see me in person. So by hook or by crook I had to make some time to see her. I humbly agreed, but was wondering what the big deal was. Was she going to give me something?

"Dah sampai. Kat luar." read the text on my phone. I left my room and hurried outside. There was a Daihatsu, the small white rickety car they rented. In the dark, I could barely make out two figures inside the car, the one at the driver's seat was recognizably Hafiz.

I dashed to the passenger side of the car and a woman who wore a shawl wrapped around her head appeared through the window, now wound down. She looked familiar, sort of like Kak Norzam, our masjid caretaker, in her facial features and figure.

She told me to teach her son more of the deen. I didn't expect that, no, not from her. Not from someone who had traveled out of her way to come see me. Not from someone who was rushing to catch a plane soon. Not from someone much older and more experienced. Not from my friend's mother.

And then she left just as unexpectedly. She left me there standing in the dark, confused, trying to make out what had just happened. A minute and it was all over. I walked slowly to my flat, passed through the front door and straight to my room. I closed the door behind me and sat down.

"What does she mean? Teach him the deen? Me? Who am I to teach? Why me? What has Hafiz been telling his mom about me? She had obviously been mistaken. I need to explain myself!"

I had been teaching Hafiz how to recite the Qur'an for some time, since he didn't know much on how to read it. He didn't have the privilege to attend any formal Qur'anic classes in Sweden. And as with teaching the Qur'an, I naturally had to teach him other things that went along with it like adab (manners) and some seerah (Prophetic way of life). I had also persuaded him to get involved in the MSA, and he had been the secretary for a whole academic term in Massey.

I fell to my knees and cried with my palms covering my face as I remembered our Prophet's words, "If Allah intends good for someone, He gives him understanding of the deen."

And my thoughts were rushing back to me. I was right, she did come to give me something. She gave me an amanah (trust). That was the heaviest thing I could ever bear. And that she placed it upon me, made my spine shiver in fear, what if I was not able to uphold it?

Alhamdulillah, that was years ago, and I am now able to write about it. Hafiz has now managed to complete half his deen, he is happily married and I was able to be there and witness it first hand. I foresee a long lasting friendship between us Hafiz. And I hope I will live up to that amanah, inshaAllah.

Hafiz and Hafizah's wedding reception. I am to his right.