The Ache of Too Late

FINAL episode of Ramadan 2026

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ozOJr-b_RE

To the most honourable nation on earth, and dearest of them to Allah,

To those whom the eyes of the world stare at in awe, envy or bewilderment,

To those tested most intensely because their standing with Allah is greatest,

To humanity’s final champions of family, humility, modesty and chivalry,

To the most generous nation, bravest nation, and most merciful nation,

To those who lay claim to every prophet, the inheritors of every prophet, whose love extends to every prophet, and who are loved by every prophet,

To you who carries the purest truth, the clearest belief, the most rational way, the most beautiful law, and the greatest hope for our injured world,

To a people whose days are of service, whose nights are of worship, whose wealth flows to the people, and whose eyes are fixed on the Hereafter.

May this be a blessed ‘Eid for you and for our forever noble Ummah, a ‘Eid of relief for our aching hearts.

O Allah, we can never thank You enough for the honour of choosing us to be Muslim.

Increase us in joy through Islam, raise us through Islam, beautify us with Islam, and keep our hearts firm upon Islam.

Joy and harm during ‘Eid prayer

I know that what follows may seem minor to some, especially when set against the backdrop of the enormous political events and global suffering currently unfolding. But issues like this are not as trivial as they may first appear, as you’ll see.

With that said:

Yesterday at the Eid prayer in Wales, there were two very different scenes.

The first was beautiful. Thousands of people gathered to worship Allah in a local park. Families came out early in the morning, children brought life to the space, and political figures who kindly joined us. The atmosphere was incredibly warm and massively uplifting. For years, when we used to hold the Eid prayer in one of the parks in Wales, more than 5,000 people would attend. It was genuinely a beautiful sight and something to be proud of.

But there was also another harmful side to it, and it has to be addressed.

Last year, a number of people parked in completely selfish ways: in the middle of paths, on cycle lanes, across roads, and in actual bus lanes! Members of the council took photos. I saw them and could hardly believe my eyes. Because of the disruption caused by a few careless individuals, we ended up being officially banned from ever using that park again.

So yesterday, we moved to a different park. The same kind of numbers came. The same announcements were made. The same warnings were given, and yet, despite all of that, there were still people parked in the middle of the road and on bus lanes.

We often speak of a world where entire populations are forced to pay for the actions of a few reckless and godless people. But that, in its own way, is exactly what is happening here.

Before you dismiss the above as insignificant, consider this prophetic warning connected to this exact kind of behaviour.

Muʿādh ibn Anas said:

غزوتُ مع نبي الله صلى الله عليه وسلم غزوة كذا وكذا، فضيَّق الناس المنازل وقطعوا الطريق، فبعث نبي الله صلى الله عليه وسلم منادياً ينادي في الناس: أن مَن ضيَّق منزلاً أو قطع طريقاً فلا جهاد له

“I participated in a battle with the Messenger of Allah ﷺ, and the people encroached on stopping places and blocked the road, so the Messenger of Allah ﷺ sent someone to announce among the people: ‘Whoever constricts a stopping place or blocks the road, there is no reward of jihād for him.’”

Meaning, he loses the reward because he harmed others and ignored their rights.

It makes me wonder how many people may have not only lost the reward of their Eid prayer, but also begun their very first day after Ramadan with sin.

We ask Allah to guide us to prophetic character, to protect us from shamelessness, and to save us from leaving this world carrying the burden of harm.

In light of Al-Aqsa’s closure, the raging war in the Middle East, and the constant talk of Armageddon, the land of al-Shām and its surrounding regions has, as promised by the Prophet ﷺ, taken centre stage.

For many of us, these events raise urgent questions:

-Where are we in the timeline of things?
-Do we "pray for Armageddon" like they do?
-How should we make sense of what is unfolding?
-Where is this all heading?

I reshare an 8-part series I previously delivered on Palestine and al-Shām:

https://youtu.be/-z2ZUJxIzi8

As matters are likely to escalate, it is vital that we are fully informed and able to read these events with revelation in mind.

A widening gap at home

As humanity edges towards global upheaval and moments of historic consequence - consequences that will, no doubt, favour the righteous in the end - this hour demands many urgent things, one of which is the intentional narrowing of the gap between parents and children within the home.

For the last couple of decades, parents themselves have become just as absorbed in the same digital world that has captured their children. They too are scrolling, watching, posting, comparing, consuming, and chasing one form of stimulation after another. This has led, especially among younger parents, to a culture of “enjoy your life,” “don’t let children tie you down,” “don’t let family duties interrupt your lifestyle,” “make time for yourself,” “protect your space,” “keep travelling, keep indulging, keep living.”

Over time, the long-term labour of tarbiyah (nurturing greatness) is gradually viewed as an unwelcome interruption rather than a privilege and the Ummah's path to recovery. Personal entertainment and self-gratification start to take priority over building a home and being physically and emotionally available.

From the children’s side, they too are drifting. These online spaces have caused many young people to feel that the older generations do not understand them, their needs, and do not appreciate the pressures surrounding them. They feel misread, unheard, and judged. So they retreat further into their own digital worlds and private online spaces. Parents retreat in one direction, the children in another, and the gulf between them widens. When this happens, another part of the Ummah’s strength is dismantled.

Moving forward, homes must be intentionally brought back to life through Qur’an, salah, simple study circles, meaningful conversation over dinner, and a deliberate reduction of the digital habits that have helped estrange parents and children.

Usually, strength travels in a particular direction.

It is often the warriors who reassure their womenfolk, calm their fears, and give them the courage to endure. It is usually the righteous who admonish the sinner, and the scholars and people of knowledge who awaken and mobilise the masses. That is the natural order, and that is how things should generally be.

But life is not always lived according to norms. There are moments of role reversal.

There were times in history when women stood at the rear of armies, urging hesitant men forward and shaming them from retreat. There are moments when a sinner gives courage to a righteous man, as happened when Abu al-Haytham, a thief who strengthened the heart of the great Imam Ahmad in his moment of fear before punishment.

These reversals are not the rule, but they are part of life, and perhaps today is one of those moments.

Though scholars and students of knowledge are meant to be the ones leading the way in speaking truth, addressing public affairs, and stirring the Ummah into action, sometimes it is the ordinary people who must push them to step forward, to speak with confidence, to engage the crises of the age, and to find their voice.

Is it ideal? Of course not. But is it real? Without a doubt, and recognising this is understanding how Allah causes strength to come from unexpected places. It also warns you from ever excusing yourself from duty or belittling your role, irrespective of your status.

A practical response to the above?

Send your local imam, favourite shaykh, or a student of knowledge you listen to a polite message. Encourage him to speak, to engage, to address al-Masjid al-Aqsa, to be relevant, to show courage, and to participate in the realities unfolding around us. Equally important is that you appreciate them when they do and motivate them to do more.

Rebuilding the Muslim Mind

At times, the issue isn't connected to beliefs or actions, but the scale by which people judge things. The Qur’an does not just tell you what to do. It teaches you how to see.

📹 https://youtu.be/WmfwIUPLQS4

“My country, my anthem, my concern”

The Prophet PBUH said:

سَيَصِيرُ الأَمْرُ إِلَى أَنْ تَكُونُوا جُنُودًا مُجَنَّدَةً، جُنْدٌ بِالشَّامِ، وَجُنْدٌ بِالْيَمَنِ، وَجُنْدٌ بِالْعِرَاقِ

“The affair will come to the point that you will become conscripted armies: an army in al-Shām, an army in Yemen, and an army in Iraq.”

The narrator, Ibn Ḥawālah said, “Choose for me, O Messenger of Allah, if I live to see that.”

The Prophet PBUH replied:

عَلَيْكَ بِالشَّامِ، فَإِنَّهَا خِيرَةُ اللَّهِ مِنْ أَرْضِهِ، يَجْتَبِي إِلَيْهَا خِيرَتَهُ مِنْ عِبَادِهِ، فَأَمَّا إِنْ أَبَيْتُمْ، فَعَلَيْكُمْ بِيَمَنِكُمْ، وَاسْقُوا مِنْ غُدُرِكُمْ، فَإِنَّ اللَّهَ تَوَكَّلَ لِي بِالشَّامِ وَأَهْلِهِ

“Go to al-Shām, for it is Allah’s chosen land from His earth, and He draws to it His chosen servants. But if you refuse, then go to your Yemen, and drink from your reservoirs, for Allah has guaranteed al-Shām and its people for me.” (Narrated by Abū Dāwūd)

This Hadith is usually cited in the context of al-Sham’s superior status, particularly towards the end of times. But consider a different perspective for a moment; the tenderness behind the Prophet’s ﷺ words: “Allah has guaranteed al-Shām and its people for me”

You can hear the concern in it and the worry of a person whose heart was far bigger than tribe, territory, and borders made for us by others.

Notice how, in the Hadith above, the Prophet’s PBUH anxiety was about a land he had never seen in full, an age he would never personally live to witness, and a people many of whom he would never meet. In fact, at that stage, al-Shām was not even under Muslim rule. Yet look at how it lived in his concern.

The believer is not raised upon the logic of “my country first,” “my passport,” “my issue only,” “my flag, my anthem, my border.” His conscience is Ummatic, where his heart travels wherever the pain of the Ummah is, and feels for lands he has never visited, people whose language he does not speak, and crises from which he gains no personal benefit. As Muslims, our hearts are simply not allowed to be regional.

This also carries an immensely important lesson for teachers at every capacity:

Our institutions that raise Muslims – Mosques, universities, Tarbiya institutes - must understand that they are not producing members for themselves, whose loyalty ends at personalities, a circle, a movement, a ṭarīqah, or any narrowly defined camp. No, they are producing people who belong to the Ummah. Their gifts are the property of the Ummah. Their knowledge is for the Ummah. Their strength is for the Ummah. Their concern must be as wide as the Ummah’s wounds and as elevated as the Ummah’s hopes.

Beware of domesticating your students into a corner. Produce men and women who understand that wherever the Ummah bleeds, part of them is bleeding too.

O Allah unify the believers,
O Allah protect their belief and lives,
O Allah guard al-Masjid al-Aqsa.

On the day Saydnaya Prison in Syria was liberated, it was only half an hour away from the decision to execute many of its prisoners, just thirty minutes before their release. Those were the words of inmates. That turn of events was by the will of Allah, the Mighty and Majestic, whose Will can never be repelled, who says to a matter: ‘Be,’ and it is.

O Allah, just as You freed our prisoners moments before their execution, free the prisoners of Palestine who are now destined for execution.

Be with them, grant them wellbeing, save them from their enemy, and bring utter ruin to their oppressors, beyond the ruin that they're already in.

If all the time poured into arguments, rebuttals, and endless back-and-forth during the war had been channelled into standing up for al-Masjid al-Aqsa while it faces one of the most serious assaults in recent memory, that would have been far better, far worthier, and far greater in reward.

Islamic maturity, today, entails less time arguing, diverting and sharing our own or other people's online sagas, and more time showing up for al-Aqsa and the Ummah's causes.

The Overwhelming Sway of the Qur'an

What is it about the Qur’an that seizes a room the moment it’s recited?

There is a strange, overwhelming sway it holds over the soul, a dominion that minds struggle to explain but hearts cannot deny. What you’re feeling in those moments is the Qur’an laying its hand on your soul; a real, palpable serenity that countless people have tried to describe, and always end up doing so with the same mix of wonder and bewilderment.

[51 mins]

https://youtu.be/VJyTu8mQ0i4

News that Masjid al-Aqsa will reopen tomorrow at 6am Palestine time Insha’Allah!

Ya Rabb..

It's been around 4 years since we paused this series. So much in the world has happened since then. As of next Wednesday, we resume this study, inshaAllah.

"My country comes first"

Whenever one addresses the suffering of one Muslim people, you are often met with: “What about the others?” “What about my country?” “What about our prisoners?” It’s almost as though the pain of some Muslims must compete with the pain of another, as if we must choose between injuries that all belong to the same body.

The tragedy of borders others drew across our lands is one matter. The greater tragedy is when those borders transfer into our hearts, our minds, and our loyalties.

The colour of your passport, the design of your flag, or the language you speak should have no bearing on my conscience towards you. Whether some flatter me or condemn me, whether they support causes that are close to me or fail to do so, it must remain that their pain is my pain, their cause is my cause, and their enemy is mine.

Spend enough time online and you will see just how thoroughly we have allowed borders to do exactly what Islam came to undo, as though the Prophet ﷺ never said:

المسلمون تتكافأ دماؤهم

“The blood of the Muslims is of equal worth...” (Abu Dawood)

That, my brother and sister, is a worldview that must inform how we speak, weigh things and comment, especially during times of civilizational pressure.

As the poet said:

وأينما ذُكِرَ اسمُ اللهِ فِي بَلَدٍ عددتُ ** ذَاكَ الحِمَى مِنْ صُلْبِ أَوْطَانِي

“Wherever the name of Allah is mentioned in any land, I count that sanctuary as being from the core of my homelands.”

Giving your loyalty to lines on a map or to the opinion of a very specific circle of scholars whose opinions sway in tune with their predominant state-politics is part of دعوى الجاهلية “the call of ignorance” which the Prophet ﷺ condemned, saying:

دعوها فإنها مُنتنة

“Leave it, for it is rotten” (Al-Bukhari and Muslim)

No, you and I are not above the possibility of falling into this. The Prophet PBUH said to one of his noble companions:

إنك امرؤٌ فيك جاهلية

“You are a person still carrying traces of jāhiliyyah (ignorance).”

We must be prepared to detect this disease within ourselves.

Justice means that we do not condemn entire populations because of the crimes of their superiors, militias, or loudest factions. We do not erase the suffering of ordinary people because of the corruption of their elites. Across the Muslim world there are common people, families, women, children, and sincere truth-seekers who are crushed beneath wars they did not start and political projects they did not author. We grieve for them. We ask Allah to relieve them. We do not rejoice in their pain. We do not mock their suffering, and we definitely do not watch Muslim bloodshed with selective tears.

But mercy and justice do not mean naivety. Whoever fights the truth, aids oppression, spills blood, or persists in behaviours that can only be explained as a systematic targeting of everything related to Islam, then our stance towards him is according to his crime and deviation, regardless of how closely he may resemble us.

So when people ask:

“Which country comes first?”
“Which people matter more?”
“Which cause deserves my voice?”

Such questions are wrong, because they force on us a strange language, one of rivalry and competition. This is not how Allah defines us.

As crises grow larger, our thinking, strategic maturity and longing for unity must also grow. It cannot be that our enemies deal with us as one body while we insist on behaving as warring tribes.

O Allah, purify our hearts from the arrogance of jāhiliyyah, allow us to spot it in ourselves, expand our concern to the full breadth of this Ummah, and make us people who love, grieve, and stand on principle for Your sake alone.

Some people’s negative reaction to advice isn’t because they hate the truth, but because they’re exhausted by the feeling that every effort they have made to improve is ignored.

We often fix our eyes on what is still missing, and forget that the other person may simply be waiting to hear: “You’ve done well.” “You’ve made huge progress.” “You really have come a long way.” But when all they hear is criticism, correction, and disappointment, the heart begins to close, till they announce, “I do not want to hear advice from you or from anyone.”

Yes, they are mistaken in this reaction, but sometimes we play a huge part in pushing people to that point.

It is precisely this that, if left unaddressed, can slowly damage a marriage and weaken the bond between parents and children, and between teacher and student. Humans are, by design, hugely in need of acknowledgement and appreciation.

That is why the Prophetic way was so beautiful in how it combined encouragement with correction. The Prophet ﷺ said about ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿUmar:

نِعْمَ الرَّجُلُ عَبْدُ اللَّهِ، لَوْ كَانَ يُصَلِّي مِنَ اللَّيْلِ

“What an excellent man ʿAbdullāh is, if only he would pray during the night.” (Al-Bukhari)

He started with praise that opened the heart, then administered the advice, causing it to land exactly where it needed to. The outcome?

فكان بَعدُ لا يَنامُ مِنَ اللَّيلِ إلَّا قَليلًا

“After that, he would sleep only a little at night.”

Trump announces he is "permanently opening" the Strait of Hormuz

“Are you better now?”

A man once said in the presence of al-Muʿāfā ibn ʿImrān,

ما أشدَّ البرد اليوم
“It’s so cold today!”

Al-Muʿāfā turned to him and said,

استدفأت الآن؟
“Are you warm now?” (Siyar Aʿlām al-Nubalāʾ)

Imam al-Dhahabī commented on this exchange, saying:

“Saying such things is permissible, but they disliked unnecessary speech.”

How much of our speech is just that?

“I hate being poor.” So, are you rich now?
“I hate this flu.” Are you better now?
“Stupid traffic.” Has the road opened up now?
“The world is a horrible place.” Has it become better now?

Such tantrums don’t solve problems, lift hardships, or change Qadar (decree). Instead, they just deepen agitation, train the tongue to speak pointlessly, and – worse still - disguise objection to Allah’s decrees.

By all means, search for a way out of the predicament, but restrain your speech until you can speak well, and train your heart to find contentment in Allah’s decrees.

That way, hearts rest today and honoured with Allah tomorrow.

Episode 13 | Change of Heart Series

The Station of Ever-Returning (Inābah)

Why do some hearts crumble under minor inconveniences, while others endure immense loss and even grow in strength? This video investigates another action of heart - al-Inābah: the soul’s constant return to its Lord, and why it is the key to many of life's endless challenges.

https://youtu.be/vPyzKKorTZo

Episode 14: Contentment (Al-Riḍā, Part 1) | Change of Heart Series

The modern machine feeds on discontent, as it is precisely what keeps people consuming, scrolling, chasing, and never arriving. Here, Islam calls the believer to something far higher: al-riḍā, serene contentment with Allah.

We explore: How does riḍā differ from ṣabr (patience), tawakkul (reliance), and shukr (gratitude)?

And what are the signs that a heart is truly content with Allah?

https://youtu.be/M6-pcWw-_EQ?si=840L7y-U2R20mYN-