Conversion #17

Conversion #16

How Anne Came To Islam
By: Hayat Anne Collins Osman

From devoted Christian to devoted Muslim...

I was raised in a religious Christian family. At that time, Americans were more religious than they are now—most families went to church every Sunday, for example. My parents were involved in the church community. We often had ministers (Protestant “priests”) in the house. My mother taught in Sunday school, and I helped her.

I must have been more religious than other children, although I don’t remember being so. For one birthday, my aunt gave me a Bible, and my sister a doll. Another time, I asked my parents for a prayer book, and I read it daily for many years.

When I was in junior high school (middle school), I attended a Bible study program for two years. Up to this point, I had read some parts of the Bible, but had not understood them very well. Now was my chance to learn.
Unfortunately, we studied many passages in the Old and New Testament that I found inexplicable, even bizarre.
For example, the Bible teaches an idea called Original Sin, which means that humans are all born sinful. I had a baby brother, and I knew that babies were not sinful.
The Bible has very strange and disturbing stories about Prophet Abraham and Prophet David, for example. I couldn’t understand how prophets could behave the way the Bible says they did.
There were many, many other things that puzzled me about the Bible, but I didn't ask questions. I was afraid to ask—I wanted to me known as a “good girl.”
Al-hamdulillah, there was a boy who asked, and kept asking.

The most critical matter was the notion of Trinity. I couldn’t get it. How could God have three parts, one of which was human? Having studied Greek and Roman mythology at school, I thought the idea of the Trinity and powerful human saints very similar to the Greek and Roman ideas of having different so-called “gods” that were in charge of different aspects of life. (Astaghfir-Ullah!)
The boy who asked, asked many questions about Trinity, received many answers, and was never satisfied. Neither was I. Finally, our teacher, a University of Michigan Professor of Theology, told him to pray for faith.

I prayed.

When I was in high school, I secretly wanted to be a nun. I was drawn to the pattern of offering devotions at set times of day, of a life devoted entirely to God, and of dressing in a way that declared my religious lifestyle.
An obstacle to this ambition, though, was that I wasn’t Catholic. I lived in a midwestern town where Catholics were a distinct, and unpopular minority! Furthermore, my protestant upbringing had instilled in me a distaste for religious statuary, and a healthy disbelief that dead saints had the ability to help me.

In college, I continued to think and pray. Students often talk and argue about religion, and I heard many different ideas. Like Yusuf Islam, I studied the Eastern so-called religions: Buddhism, Confucianism, and Hinduism. No help there.

I met a Muslim from Libya, who told me a little about Islam and the Holy Qur’an. He told me that Islam is the modern, most up-to-date form of revealed religion. Because I thought of Africa and the Middle East as backwards places, I couldn’t see Islam as modern.
My family took this Libyan brother to a Christmas church service. The service was breathtakingly beautiful, but at the end, he asked, “Who made up this procedure? Who taught you when to stand and bow and kneel? Who taught you how to pray?”
I told him about early Church history, but his question made me angry at first, and later made me think.
Had the people who designed the worship service really been qualified to do so? How had they known the form that worship should take? Had they had divine instruction?

I knew that I did not believe in many of the teachings of Christianity, but continued to attend church. When the congregation recited pieces I believed to be blasphemous, such as the Nicene Creed, I was silent—I didn’t recite them. I felt almost alien in church, almost a stranger

Horror! Someone very close to me, having dire marital problems, went to a curate of our church for advice. Taking advantage of her pain and self-loathing, he took her to a motel and seduced her.

Up to this point, I had not considered carefully the role of the clergy in Christian life. Now I had to. Most Christians believe that forgiveness comes through the “Holy Communion” service, and that the service must be conducted by an ordained priest or minister. No minister, no absolution.

I went to church again, and sat and looked at the ministers in front. They were no better than the congregation—some of them were worse. How could it be true that the agency of a man, of any human being, was necessary for communion with God? Why couldn’t I deal with God directly, and receive His absolution directly?

Soon after this, I found a translation of the meaning of the Qur’an in a bookstore, bought it, and started to read it. I read it, off and on, for eight years. During this time, I continued to investigate other religions.

I grew increasingly aware of and afraid of my sins. How could I know whether God would forgive me? I no longer believed that the Christian model, the Christian way of being forgiven, would work.
My sins weighed heavily on me, and I didn’t know how to escape the burden of them.
I longed for forgiveness.

I read in the Qur’an,

“…nearest among them in love to the Believers you will find those who say, ‘We are Christian': Because amongst them are Men devoted to learning, and men who have renounced the world and are not arrogant.

"And when they listen to the revelation received by the Messenger, you will see their eyes overflowing with tears, for they recognize the truth. They pray, ‘Our Lord! We believe. Write us down among the witnesses.'

“’What cause can we have not to believe in Allah and the truth which has come to us, seeing that we long for our Lord to admit us to the company of the righteous?”

--The Holy Qur’an
Chapter 5, the Table
verses 82-84.

I saw Muslims praying on the TV news, and wanted to learn how. I found a book (by a non-Muslim) that described it, and I tried to do it myself. (I knew nothing of Taharah -- ritural purity -- and did not pray correctly.) I prayed in my own strange, desperate way, secretly and alone, for several years. I memorized some parts of the Qur'an in English, not knowing that Muslims memorize the Qur'an in Arabic.

Finally, after eight years of reading the Qur’an, I found this verse::

“This day have I perfected your religion for you, completed My favor for you, and chosen Islam as your religion.”

--The Holy Qur’an
Chapter 5, the Table
verse 3

-

I wept for joy, because I knew that, way back in time, before the creation of the Earth, Allah had written this Qur’an for me. Allah had known that Anne Collins, in Cheektowaga, NY, USA, would read this verse of the Qur’an in May 1986, and be saved.

Now, I knew that there were many things I had to learn, for example, how to offer the formal Muslim prayer. The problem was that I didn’t know any Muslims.

Muslims are much more visible in the US now than they were then. I didn’t know where to find them.
I found the phone number of the Islamic Society in the phone book, and dialed it, but when a man answered, I panicked and hung up. What was I going to say? How would they answer me? Would they be suspicious? Why would they want me, when they had each other and their Islam?

In the next couple of months, I called the mosque a number of times, and each time panicked and hung up.
Finally, I did the cowardly thing: I wrote a letter asking for information.
The kindly, patient brother at the mosque phoned me, and then started sending me pamphlets about Islam.
I told him I wanted to be Muslim, but he told me, “Wait until you are sure.”
It upset me that he told me to wait, but I knew he was right, that I had to be sure because, once I had accepted Islam, nothing would ever be the same again.

I became obsessed with Islam. I thought about it, day and night. On several occasions, I drove to the mosque (at that time, it was in an old converted house) and circled it many times, hoping to see a Muslim, wondering what it was like inside.

Finally, one day in early November 1986, as I was working in the kitchen, I suddenly knew, knew that I was Muslim. Still a coward, I sent the mosque another letter. It said, “I believe in Allah, the One True God, I believe that Muhammad was his Messenger, and I want to be counted among the witnesses.”

The brother called me on the phone the next day, and I said my shahadah* on the phone to him. He told me then that Allah had forgiven all my sins at that moment, and that I was as pure as a newborn baby.

I felt the burden of sin slip off my shoulders, and wept for joy. I slept little that night, weeping, and repeating Allah’s name.

Forgiveness had been granted. Alhamdulillah.


*The statement a person makes when accepting Islam (and many times a day thereafter: I testify that there is no deity other than Allah, and I testify that Muhammad (s.a.w.) was a messenger of Allah.

Conversion #15

Conversion #14

An Austrian Scientist Discovers Islam
By: Amina Islam

Born 1953 in the town Linz in Austria, I spent my
childhood in Munich (Germany) until we moved to
Salzburg (Austria) when I was 16 years old. I grew up
in a conservative Christian way. My parents are strict
Protestant Christians, which believe in the Bible and
pray to Jesus as son of God. They educated me to keep
a high standard of morals and ethics.

After I had finished high school, I started to study
biology and in parallel, to work in a half-day job,
both at the university of Salzburg.

Since I did not participate in any Christian
activities of the Protestant church, my parents
arranged for me to get in touch with an evangelic free
church, the Baptist community (a very big and powerful
Christian church in the USA). I became an active
member and even a leader of a student group. I studied
the Bible several times and believed in the dogmas of
Jesus being son and part of God, and of the salvation
of all people and the reconciliation with God only by
his death on cross. At this time, I didn’t scrutinize
the Bible carefully enough to recognize that this was
not taught by Jesus in his gospel. But some years
later, still in the same community, I was beginning to
have my doubts and I could no longer accept this
foundation of Christian faith and religion, which
contradicted my reasoning. Although I was repeatedly
told that this is God’s mystery and a matter of faith
and not of intellect, I insisted that I could only
believe that Jesus is a human being and a prophet with
a special relation to God, who demonstrated the right
way to God by his life and teachings.

I got married with a man from the Baptist church and I
finished my studies achieving the doctorate. Two
children and a divorce later I left the Baptist
church, also due to my doubts concerning the
foundation of Christianity.

I had to search for a full time job, since I was alone
responsible for my children, but al-hamdu lillah I got
a very good employment in research and student
teaching in my field at the university of Salzburg. I
was content to earn my own money to ensure financial
independency from all other people.

I got married a second time and I started to deal with
esoteric philosophies. I was still in search of truth.
The second marriage was again turning into a disaster
and I was divorced a second time. Similar as in the
first case, the reason for divorce was that my husband
took advantage of my position, money and my desire for
harmony. He didn’t support me with any financial,
practical or even psychological help or care for the
children. But at this time, I was already independent
with a sound basis in my life: I had a position as
university professor and great responsibility for my
work.

Since I had not found happiness in my private life,
but was constantly overloaded with double work, job,
children and household, I suffered form exhaustion
depressions for some years. I only kept going in life
due to my children and my work.

After the second divorce I lived together with a much
younger man for 9 years without being married, as it
is usual in the western world. When he left me for a
younger woman, I started to re-arrange my life as
single, without expecting to find a man again. I had a
good job, grown-up children, a nice apartment, a car,
and hobbies like mountain climbing or skiing and did
not miss anything in practical life. I could stand on
my own two feet. But I was not giving up the search of
truth.

My knowledge about Islam at this time was only a bad
prejudice generated by Christians and the media. I
never got in contact with the religion and I didn’t
want to get in touch with people from this—how it
seemed to me—“frightening and rigid” religion.

This was the situation in September 2002, when I was
persuaded by a friend to spend a week of holidays in
an all-inclusive hotel. We had to book a last-minute
flight and found a very cheap offer for Egypt. My
intention was to relax, to return to my inner balance
and maybe came closer to the truth. The only affair I
was not at all interested in, was to meet a man.

It was on the first evening in the very beautiful
hotel and I went to the buffet for dinner, when I saw
Walid for the first time, a cook in the hotel and my
later husband. When our eyes met, I fell in love.
Walid told me later that the same happened to him. We
didn’t communicate for two more days until Walid
started writing letters. One of the first suggestions
he proposed to me was that we should marry. The rest
of the week I couldn’t make up my mind for my
prejudices and many doubts in my head or for the deep
affection in my heart. Then I returned home to Austria
with not more than the handy number of one of his
friends. I realized soon that the apparent barriers
due to the differences between us (age, culture,
religion, education and language) existed only in my
head. This was the opinion of the society but not my
own experience. I planned to return to Egypt two
months later to give our love a chance. The only real
problem was the poor communication.

Allah started now visibly guiding my life. Some days
after my return to Austria, a woman from Egypt started
working as guest scientist in my institute for the
duration of one year. Two weeks later I began to visit
an Arabic language course at the university offered by
a professor from Egypt. Being good Muslims they taught
me both a lot about Islam, their culture and the
Arabic language, which I intended to learn for better
communication with Walid.

Interested to know more about Islam, I bought many
books and a good Qur'an translation (from Murad
Hofmann, a German ambassador, who converted to Islam
earlier). I was amazed how good my idea of God and the
world was reflected by the holy Qur'an. I found
extensive conformity with the “old testament” and in
the “new testament” with the gospel of Jesus, but
without the church-made dogma that Jesus is regarded
as son of God.

At my second visit in Egypt, I found out that Walid is
a very serious man from a large family of farmers,
which we visited together. On the first evening, we
married with a local but not international contract
(Orfi), which protected us at least against the police
and fulfilled the Islamic law that no common activity
should be carried out between man and woman outside
marriage. After this trip I traveled three more times
to Egypt, until we could officially marry in Cairo,
and again two more times until we had the visa for
Walid. Now he could come with me to Austria, more than
one year after we met the first time.

During this year I gradually learned things about
Islam by reading books and by the help of my Muslim
friends in Austria. Surprisingly I was also contacted
by the Cairo University as a referee of a thesis work.
Under the several Egyptian scientists, whom I met from
now on each time when I visited Egypt, I won one good
Muslimah as a close friend. I was impressed that many
Muslims including young people—even those who are not
very strict in their religion—speak openly and
respectfully about Allah and Islam.

As soon as my husband came to Austria, we contacted
the mosque in Salzburg and I received and bought more
books. Two of them, the book of Maurice Bucaille
“Bible, Qur'an and Natural Sciences”, which proves
that all scientific statements in the holy Qur'an are
in consents with the latest research, and the “Gospel
of Barnabas”, where Jesus announces the prophet
Muhammad and refuses to be revered as God, opened my
eyes.

The holy Qur'an confirmed not only my idea about God
and the world, but all his statements, e.g. about
natural sciences, did obviously not contradict the
reality. I was allowed and even encouraged to use my
logic! I discovered that Islam is not a new religion,
but a “re-animation” of the roots and the essential of
the old religions of the Jews and Christians, with the
first Muslim Abraham as the father of all monotheistic
religions and with the same prophets, including Jesus.
The last prophet Muhammad—not accepted by the other
religions—was used by Allah to repeat the old truth
again and to announce new regulations. The holy Qur'an
must be God’s revelation and Muhammad his messenger!
If this is the truth and I believe this, I have to
accept the holy Qur'an as a whole including the law. I
hesitated to make the step of conversion to Islam
only, because I knew that this implies to keep the
rules, accept restrictions for my life (e.g. no
alcohol, no pork) and behave in a way not
contradicting the holy Qur'an and the Sunnah [editor's
note: Sunnah means the collection of the Prophet's
deeds].

At the beginning of the past Ramadan 2004, Walid asked
me, whether I wanted to do the last step and convert.
I accepted to make this in my house. We invited
several brothers and sisters and I spoke the shahadah
[editor's note: shahadah means Testimony of Faith]. I
had already learned how to pray and started praying as
regular as possible. Of course, I was fasting in
Ramadan.

I am very happy to belong to the Ummah of Muslims
[editor's note: Ummah means nation]. I try to grow in
faith for Allah and knowledge about Islam and to
fulfill the law as good as possible.

Still two major problems are left. Although my parents
know my opinion about Islam, I cannot tell them that I
am converted. They are old and sick and the truth
could do harm to them. The other problem: I cannot yet
wear a veil in work and in areas, where I am known.
Although in Austria Islam is an accepted religion, the
society has problems to accept Muslims and especially
the veil as symbol. Due to my public duties I would
get many disadvantages and problems in work, affecting
especially my working group in the university.

On the other side, I use each opportunity to talk
about Islam. I try to live as a good Muslimah, to
practice Islam and give a good example.

Allah finally helped me to find the right way in my
search of the truth, al-hamdu lillah.

Conversion #13

Conversion #12

An American Teenager Discovers Islam
By: Valerie Wright

I could say that my journey to Islam began before I was even aware of it. I was born with a progressive hearing loss. My mother did not realize that I had difficulties hearing until I was 4 years old. Once it was discovered, I received my first hearing aids, and began attending a school where hearing and deaf children were integrated.

At first I was placed in classes that contained only deaf children. Then I began to attend some classes with hearing children, and I had a teacher come to help me learn how to integrate. I felt at home there. I did not realize that I was being prepared to leave the school and go to a mainstream public school.

Once I changed schools, I had a very difficult time adjusting. My constant moves to different homes also compounded the issue. Finally, in middle school, I encountered some stability. I lived in a very small Texas town called Wylie. When I was about 12 years old, my English teacher was special: She was from Turkey. Now, anyone who knows Wylie knows that in those days this was extremely unusual.

The teacher had come to my small town on an exchange program. Of course she never spoke with my class about religion, but it was enough at the time just knowing her. She got us involved in a pen pal project with students from Turkey. My pen pal's name was Yasemin. I still have a card she sent me, with a picture of mosques and churches side by side. The significance of this was not apparent to me at the time, but it was just one among many signs that God had chosen for me.

During this period of my life, I yearned to be close to God, to please Him, and to receive His love. I became very involved in the church of my grandfather. He and his siblings were raised as Pentecostals, and both his father and his brother were preachers.

Every afternoon I would come home from school and play the piano. I played it for God and for myself to feel peace. I was taught that praise for God rises to heaven like the smell of sweet incense. I would imagine this as I was playing. Sometimes I would sing a little along with the music, although the music usually expressed my intense feelings more than my words ever could.

One day, I felt God's presence in the room with me. It was immense and overwhelming. The air felt extremely heavy with the awesomeness and majesty of His Being. I suddenly stopped singing, and my fingers froze over the piano. I began to shake. I did not know what to do. Then, slowly, by instinct (or, I should rather say by the guidance of God), I turned away from the piano and prostrated on my knees and my head.

Trembling and longing flooded my soul. Flummoxed for words, I simply thought, "God, please anoint me. Make me special. Make me serve You." I remained prostrating for a few more minutes, then, with a deep breath, I got up and resumed my other usual activities.

Another time around this same period of my life, I was at my school where parents and students had gathered for an academic awards assembly. My name was called, and I went up to receive my award. Afterward, my mother told me about something strange that had happened. She said, "While you were walking up to take your award, a strange woman came to me, someone I don't know. She said, 'I just feel that when I look at your daughter I have to tell you that God has a plan for her.'" I wondered for the longest time what His plan for me could possibly be.

I was feeling depressed by the many restrictions of the Pentecostal Church then. I couldn't comprehend their purpose very clearly. I also was quite disturbed by things I would read in the Bible, and when I asked about them, I did not get satisfactory answers. In fact, my questions were met with disapproval. So my mother and I started attending a different church together and, again, on two separate occasions, two different strangers approached my mother and told her that God had a plan for me.

I recall that I requested a private meeting with a preacher to discuss something. One of the questions I asked him was, "Am I going to heaven?" "Well, do you believe in Jesus?" he asked. "Ye-e-e-s ... ," I answered. "Then you are going to heaven," he said. Inside myself I was not satisfied with his answer. I felt doubtful. Summer came, and I went to church camp, where two momentous events occurred.

First, the preacher who was speaking to us told all of the youth who were present to come to the front of the room if they wanted him to pray for them. "If you feel like you have any barriers between you and God, and you want me to pray that those barriers will be removed so you can get closer to God, come up," he said. I was among many others who formed a line in the front. We stood up, and he started to place his hand on each person's forehead and make a supplication. That's when something very odd happened: They all fell flat on their backs without even bending their knees, like dominoes! I began to feel a trifle nervous. "What's happening?" I wondered.

The preacher came to me. He slapped his hand on my forehead and pushed me a little. I rocked on my feet and remained standing, while he went on down the line and the others continued to fall. At the end, only a few of us were still standing. I was left wondering what had happened to those who fell and why I was different. Had I missed out on something?

Another experience happened when the preacher of my youth class was giving a very emotional lesson to hundreds of young people. Then unexpectedly he looked directly at me and said, "Valerie, stand up." I stood, and he continued, "I want you to know that God wants to heal your ears." He thought he was moved by the "Holy Spirit" to say this with authority.

He placed his hands over my ears and prayed. Nothing happened. I was very embarrassed. The following Sunday, one of the students in my class asked him why, if anything was possible in the name of Christ, sometimes prayers weren't answered. The preacher did not look at me, but he threw a pen in my general direction. "God answers prayers," he replied, "but sometimes people do not have enough faith to receive it." My mother and I were of course very upset by this, and we left that church.

I drifted for a while, not really attending any church on a regular basis. I felt lost. I felt that I kept failing, and that somehow I was getting it all wrong. I knew I could never be perfect, but I still did not feel all right. An indefinable sensation always lingered in the back of my mind.

When I was 15, I went to live with my father. I stayed with him for two and a half years, and during that time I became regularly involved in a Methodist church. I also sometimes attended the Baptist church that my stepmother went to. At each church that I visited, I always felt that something was missing. And even though everyone was friendly to me, I always felt that I did not belong among those people, especially my age peers. Still, it never occurred to me to look for another religion.

When I was 17, I had a dream one night. I was standing beside a green bush with small leaves and small yellow flowers. An angel swooshed before me, but I couldn't see it, except for a kind of clear outline of its form or energy. It gathered a bouquet of the yellow flowers for me. The flowers sparkled. Then the angel picked me up and carried me to a special place. Because I could not see the angel, I saw everything around me as if I were flying.

I entered a place where the sun shone, filtered through a light mist. At first I saw tall grass swaying and trees with large maroon leaves. As we proceeded, the grass became shorter, and there were trees with very bright red, pink, and white flowers with small black centers. The flowers were profuse; they covered the branches and the trunks, even the ground at their bases. The next trees were some kind of evergreen trees.

As I turned and looked around, I saw a rectangular patch of cultivated land in the distance to my right. It seemed that some very tall herbs were growing there. I saw another, smaller rectangle of purple irises. Beside them was a wooden house. The angel carried me around the house once, so that I could see that it was in the shape of a perfect square. The angel put me down, and we entered.

Inside were many adults and children, all of them quite happy. They left as we entered to give us privacy. We entered a small reception area where there were two couches and a small Japanese style table between them. There appeared an old woman with white hair tied up in a bun and a long black dress with a white lacy collar. She gestured that I should make myself comfortable and asked if I would like a drink. After I had settled, she began to speak to me, telling me things about my future (none of which I remember). She concluded by saying, "You have to make some changes in your life first." I felt very afraid of these words, for I wasn't sure whether I was strong enough. I turned to the angel and said, "I don't know if I can do it." Then it lifted me up and threw me in the air, where the dream ended.

Near the end of the school year, I was at a good-bye party for one of my foreign exchange friends. One girl's mother came to me. I knew the girl as a friend, but I had never seen the mother before. She told me, "When my daughter speaks about you, I get such a feeling of joy and happiness in my heart, and I feel a strong need to tell you that God has a plan for you."

Some time passed, and I was almost ready to graduate from high school. That was when I met some Muslims and had real in-depth contact with them. They did not practice their religion, but there was something I liked about their interactions with each other. There seemed to be a mutual feeling between them that was stronger than any I had seen between any people before. They also spoke Arabic with each other a lot of the time, and I wished to understand what they were saying. So I determined to find an Arabic class and surprise them.

The only classes I found that suited my schedule were given at a local mosque, so I went there. I never learned much Arabic, but the sisters in the mosque taught me about Islam. For every big, deep question I had, they provided me with very simple, logical, and profound answers. I felt within myself that Islam was a religion I could accept. So on my 19th birthday, I officially declared my Shahadah. After saying it, I leapt up with joy, my arms in the air. "Yes!" I am a Muslim now, praise God.

After becoming Muslim, I felt much more at peace with my spiritual foundation. My family was quite upset at first, but they never stopped speaking with me or reaching out to me with love. Some of them have come to understand a little more about Islam and have become more comfortable and accepting of my decision. All praise be to Allah.

Through its life-permeating system, Islam has affected the decisions I make in life. Islam is not just a "Sunday-feel-good affair." I don't doubt that some sincere Christians make the effort to practice their religion in their daily lives, but Islam has a much more comprehensive set of guidelines to follow. Everything I do comes with an awareness that I will be held accountable for my actions and that I need to constantly ask for Allah's forgiveness. Islam has given me the purpose in life that I had been seeking. It is one of the few things I am passionate about. Before Islam, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. One of my great wishes is that I can help another person become Muslim. That still has yet to happen.

Conversion #11

The first few seconds are in Arabic the rest is in English...

Conversion #10

A German Teenager Discovers Islam
By: Yahya Schroder

My name is Yahya Schroder. I am a "European" Muslim. I became Muslim 11 months ago when I was 17. I am living now in Potsdam, Germany and I want to share my experience with you as a Muslim in a non-Muslim state.

As a convert to Islam, I think it's much easier to follow the deen (religion) than a born Muslim who is been raised up here. Almost all young born-Muslims I know want to become German. For them Islam is only a tradition and they think that they have to give up their tradition (Islam) to be accepted by the Germans, despite the fact that the Germans won't accept them even if they gave up their religion.

I grew up in a little village. I lived with my mother and my stepfather in a huge house with a big garden and a big pool. And as a teenager I "lived a cool life;" I had some friends whom I used to hang around with, do stupid things and drink alcohol like every young German teen.

The life of a Muslim in Germany is quite difficult than one would think especially for me as a German Muslim because when someone asks a German what they know about Islam; they would tell you something about Arabs. For them it's like mathematical operation Islam = Arabs.

They still don't know about our big nation. When I converted to Islam I had to leave my family and I moved to the community in Potsdam near Berlin. I left this huge house and all my material valuable stuff.

When I lived with my mother and my stepfather I had everything; a big house, my own money, TV, Play-station. I was never concerned about money, but I wasn't happy. I was searching for something else.

When I turned 16 I met the Muslim community in Potsdam through my biological father who became Muslim in 2001. I used to visit my father once a month and we used to attend the meetings of the community which were held on Sundays.

At that time, I was interested in Islam, and my father noticed this and told me one day that he wouldn't speak about Islam when we are together because he wanted me to learn from people of greater knowledge so that other people won't say: "Oh he became Muslim just because he's 17 and does everything his father does."

I agreed and I started visiting the community every month and learned a lot about Islam but at that time something happened and changed my way of thinking. One Sunday, I went with the Muslim community swimming and I broke my back twice by jumping in the pool and I hit the ground with my head.

My father brought me to the hospital and the doctor told me:
My wish to become Muslim became so strong that I had to leave my family. I left my stepfather, my mother, and the nice luxury lifestyle to go to Potsdam.
"You have broken your back quite bad and if you did one wrong movement you'll become handicapped."

This didn't help me much, but then just a few moments before they bought me to the operation room the Ahmir, one of my friends of the Muslims community, told me something. "Yahya, you are now in the hands of Allah, it's like a rollercoaster. Now you are on the top enjoy the ride and just trust in Allah." This really helped me.

he operation took five hours and I woke up after 3 days. I couldn't move my right arm but I was feeling like the happiest person on this earth. I told the doctor that I don't care about my right arm I'm so happy that Allah has let me survive.

The doctors have told me that I have to stay in the hospital for few months. I stayed for only two weeks there, because I was training very hard. One day a doctor came and said: "today we will try to take one step on the staircase," the exercise that I did on my own two days before the doctor told me.

Now, I can move my right arm again and I was just two weeks there Al-hamdu lillah. This accident changed a lot in my personality.

I noticed when Allah wants something; the individual's life can be turned over in one second. So, I took life more serious and started thinking more about my life and Islam, but I was still living in this little village.

My wish to become Muslim became so strong that I had to leave my family. I left my stepfather, my mother and the nice luxury lifestyle to go to Potsdam. I moved to my father's apartment which is rather small and I had to stay in the kitchen but it was okay because I had nothing just a very few clothes, school books, and some CDs.

It must sound for you like I lost everything but I am very happy, I'm as happy as when I woke up in the hospital after the dreadful accident. The next day was the first day of Ramadan. The day after this was my first school day in my new school.

The day after my first day in school I said Shahadah Al-hamdu lillah. So, everything was new for me, new apartment, new school, and first time without my family. Like in my school when they first noticed that I am a Muslim they started to make jokes at me.

I think this is usual because of what they learned from the media. "A terrorist," "Osama bin Laden is coming," "Muslims are dirty," some people thought I am just a crazy guy. And they even didn't believe me that I am German.

But now after 10 months the situation changed. I made a lot of da`wah to my classmates and now I even have a praying room although I'm the only Muslim in my school.

My classmates changed from making jokes to asking serious question about Islam and they noticed that Islam is not a religion like the other religions. They noticed Islam is cool!

They see that we Muslims have Adab (manners) in dealing with each other. They noticed that we are independent from all this peer pressure, we just keep it real we don't need to be in a special group like in my school.

At my school there are three main groups: the hip hop guys; the punks; and the party people. Everybody tries to be a member of one group, so as to be accepted by others.

Except me! I can be friend with everybody. I don't have to wear special clothes to be "cool." So what happened is that they are always inviting me and my Muslim friends to their barbecue parties.

The special thing on this is that they respect me as a Muslim and even more, they get Halal food especially for me and they have organized two barbecue grills one for them and one for us Muslims! The people here are very open for Islam.

Conversion #9

Conversion #8

Like a Newborn Child
A Catholic Woman Discovers Islam
By: Maryam Eustathiou

Being brought up in a Catholic Christian household I always felt the importance of being in a religion, and respecting the will of God. However even from an early age I sensed that the religion I was brought up in was not quite what I expected. My earliest memories bring me to a typical Sunday scene sitting in church and looking around me, not digesting what the priest was saying, and staring at a hall full of statues and paintings of various “religious” scenes and persons.
I always remember asking myself: can this be it? Is this the truth? Can this massive symbol of a cross that everyone kneels and bows to, be the true meaning of God? And can this priest dressed in all his luxurious garments of silk and gold be the essence of piety and humbleness and subservience to the Most Divine?

Somehow I felt inside me, that something wasn’t quite right. The mere fact that Jesus (peace and blessings be upon him) was given a godly status in the Christian religion instead of being accepted as one of Allah’s Prophets made my stomach twist and turn. It was something which I just could not accept, and this was the first sign that made me understand that I was no longer Christian, but something else.

After just turning 18 I decided I would go to University and get a degree, but at the same time, find the chance to get out of the Christian household I was in, and find the peace and freedom to do some soul searching! Indeed Allah blessed me with this chance, since it proved to be the best decision I made in my life.

Attending university I came across many cultures and backgrounds, and many people who would come in and out of my life who helped me in my path. My first encounter with Islam was through different Muslims from Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Egypt, Pakistan, Turkey, Italy, United Kingdom and many more countries. All these friends in fact came into my life at the most appropriate time, a time when I needed information about religion.

But I do remember an occasion in 2001 (which I think was my first REAL introduction to Islam) when I visited a friend and seeing for the first time the Qur'an standing directly opposite me on a bookshelf. Just by looking at it, I got this urge and curiosity to look and read what was inside.

Naturally it was written in its original language, in Arabic, and I couldn't understand a thing, but my friend began to calmly explain what I was seeing! Was it a coincidence that most people I came across were Muslims? I think NOT.

My reversion to Islam happened quite gradually after that, approximately 1 year later. I specifically remember saying to myself one day just before the beginning of Ramadan in 2002 “Shall I go to church today? Why should I go? Who am I kidding? I don’t believe that Jesus (peace and blessings on him) is the son of God, so why should I go to church. I am not going to church to please my parents, nor am I going there to please other Christians any more. I want a religion that pleases God and is for God and only God. I want to thank God more than once a week or twice a week for all the blessings I have. I want to thank Him every day, 5 times or more if I can, not every Sunday.” This on its own made me think, it made me think that I was happy to believe in God as one complete whole, not divided into three parts.

Reading the Qur'an and the life of the Prophet (peace be upon him) I came to realize that I did believe he was a messenger of God, and in fact the last of God’s messengers. I also began to pray at this time, and started my first fast ever that year in Ramadan. After obtaining a lot of information about Islam and asking all the questions I needed to know their answers; I finally came into the world like a new-born child. What can only be described as ‘LIGHT’ was suddenly shone upon me. I decided when Ramadan had finished and we had celebrated `Eid that there was no way I was going to be anything else BUT Muslim, and that was my deciding moment.

After so many years of being blind, and walking in the dark, one day, Allah the Most Gracious Most Merciful shone the torch in my eyes, and I woke up from the trance, from the illness, from the blindness I was trapped in for so long.

My reversion to Islam has let me be more peaceful as an individual, I feel I make the correct Insha' Allah decisions most of the time and above all I feel that I try to live my life in light of Allah's wishes. What made me do it?

The simple and so logical words. The clearest and most perfect words that have ever reached human ears. “La ilaha il Allah, Muhammed Rasoull Allah”. This sentence was the defining moment in my life which made me become a Muslim, and to this day, I have never looked back. Allah is One and Whole and Perfect and Muhammad was His last Prophet.

The Qur'an for me is like a manual, just like a car needs a manual to function properly, the Holy Quran is the guide -book to life, and something which covers All areas and is something which we cannot live without.

I am proud to be Cypriot and Muslim Alhamdullah. This is not because I am proud of my ethnicity, but it is because Allah’s power crosses barriers and reaches to all corners of the globe. Living in the free part of Cyprus unfortunately means access to Muslims, Islamic books and centers is sparse. Does this discourage me? Not at all! In fact I love Islam more every day because of it!

My parents found out about my reversion to Islam during Ramadan 2005, and this was because I felt it was better to tell them my news while I was near them and not away studying at university.

I felt that it was important to be around them when I delivered this news, so that they knew I hadn't run away from them and deserted them. In fact I wanted them to see me and how I had become because of Islam, and to slowly In sha' Allah enter the faith themselves by trying to set a good example.

My father reacted very well to the news, and appreciates my views as an individual and Al-hamdu lillah has shown willingness to read some books about Islam; however my mother's reaction was not as calm. I feel that this is more because she is afraid for me, due to the fact that she knows little about Islam, but Al-hamdu lillah we have also began to talk about the faith and she also is becoming more accepting.

After I graduated from University with my undergraduate degree and Masters Degree I am now working as a trainee in a large company and feel that Allah has allowed me to make great progress as an individual. If I could give any advice to anyone it would be; “listen to your heart, listen to the signs, listen to the words, LISTEN, the truth is there, embrace it, this life is not forever.”

Conversion #7

Conversion #6

A Sleepless Night
A British Man Finds Faith After Doubt
By: Daud R. Matthews

I was raised as an Anglican (Church of England), the youngest (by one hour - I have a twin brother) of eight children. My father died when I was about 10 years old.

I attended Sunday School, was confirmed, sang in the choir, would have been an altar boy but National Service intervened, went to Youth Fellowship classes.

I went regularly to church every Sunday morning and evening. I was called up for National Service in 1958 at the age of 20.

After initial training I was posted to Malta, from there I spent 3 months in Tripoli in Libya. After demob I came back to the UK and was still practising Christianity.

Searching for Faith

Doubts started to enter my mind. When we turned to face the altar to say the Creed, I found myself asking why I was doing it? Then I began to doubt it and then to disbelieve in it.

When I spoke to the Vicar about this he told me not to think about it as I was in danger of stepping outside the Church - becoming a heretic.

The doubts wouldn't go away; they increased to include the resurrection, inherited sin and so on. Then I felt I wouldn't find God in the Church and I would be a hypocrite if I continued to attend the Church. So, I stopped going.

For some 8 years I had no formal religion. I did have a code of life, a set of values based on: always telling the truth, helping others where possible and not taking advantage of certain situations I might finds myself in.

I initially called myself an atheist but was told, as you are still looking for a God you must be an agnostic. I discussed belief systems with the various people I came in contact with and what they got out of their belief system. I read any books I came across on various religions.

In this way I found out a little about Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, Judaism, Sikhism, Roman Catholicism (and probably others) and the ism of my day was Swedenborgenism - philosophy. Anyway, for various reasons I felt none of these were what I was looking for.

Then, I went to work in a Research Lab in Rutherford outside Oxford. I moved into the senior staff hostel where we used to discuss Religion and Politics. There were people there from Iran, India and Pakistan.

The Opening of a Heart

One evening after dinner someone described the Prayer in Islam with respect to al-Fatiha and the hadith Qudsi. This had an impact on me as tears came to my eyes when the Fatiha was explained.

I went to the Information Bureau in Oxford to find out about a Mosque. They didn't know of one but gave me the name of a man who might be able to help me.

I phoned him up and told him, "I don't know if I can be a Muslim but with no knowledge I will never find out."

We arranged that I would visit his house two evenings a week and discuss Islam. He was an Englishman who had embraced Islam about 20 years earlier and was the Imam of the Masjid in Oxford at that time.

After 6 months I was following him in the prayer and beginning to practice Islam on my own. I used to attend Thursday evenings in the Masjid for Tafsir. I moved to computers and shift work.

One Friday about 18 months after our first meeting, I was asked after Juma' if I had said the Shahadah. When I said "No!" I was asked, "Don't you think it's time?" I asked in all humility, "Do you think I know enough?"

I said the Shahadah in March 1970.

During 1972 I kept wondering if my faith would be strong enough, if there would come a time when I would want to go away from Islam (as I had gone away from Christianity).

I asked the Imam who told me "First you get a little knowledge then you begin to practice it. If you continue to practice it is because you believe in it (otherwise you would stop). In this way your faith develops."

This still left the question open, of whether I would be able to pass every test of my new found faith.

A Sleepless Night

One night I couldn't sleep. In my mind came, "O you who believe, go not astray from the right path, the path that leads to Allah." Shivers ran up and down my spine. I sat up and switched on the light.

I reached for a pencil and paper and wrote those words down. Then I laid back down. As I was going over them in my mind... it continued, ...:The One God, Lord of all Creation."

Again I sat up and wrote the words down. Then I went to sleep.

In the morning I looked at what I had written:
"O you who believe." Did I really believe, was this confirmation?

"Go not astray from the right path." The right path… which is the right path?

"The path that leads to Allah." To Allah, the Muslim name for God, the right path is the path to Islam.

"The One God." Was this a denial of my Christian (trinitarian) past?

"Lord of all Creation." There is only One God. There is only one Creator, call Him what you will.

My doubts evaporated (al-hamdulillah).

Water-Pistols and Marriage

The person who had explained the Prayer to us had gone back to Pakistan in 1972 and I had requested their address. I used to send postcards explaining my experiences as a new Muslim.

Within a short time, I was now 32 years old, I realised there was a meeting of the minds and I wrote to the family with a proposal of marriage. I received a reply which wasn't exactly helpful as there was a reference to burying "Ghora's" in the Christian Qabristan (graveyard).

I wanted to turn such a comment around and finally decided to write: "Since you are challenging, I have the choice of weapons and I choose …… water-pistols."

In subsequent postcards I mentioned how expert I was becoming with the water-pistols and in 1973 the family invited me to Pakistan.

I was met at the airport by the brother, mother and a sister.On the drive to the house we passed the Ghori Qabristan and this was pointed out to me. On arrival at the house I opened the large suitcase I had brought with me and prepared to take out what gifts I had bought for the family.

But first, I took out a pair of beautifully matched water-pistols and requested the brother to take his pick. He promptly embraced me and we got on very well from then on.

It transpired the brother had written to the Imam in Oxford for a reference about me, what he received was positive, al-hamdulillah. My proposal was accepted and I was married.

I phoned the British Consulate in Karachi and told them I was an Englishman who had just married a local girl and I wanted to take her back to the UK with me, what should I do?

I went to see them and in the interview I was told it takes six months to arrange an interview for the girl, what will I do. I said, "I will cable my company and tell them I am unavoidably detained and stay here."

The guy didn't quite know what to say to that, but called for Queen's Regulations. He thumbed through these and then said, "Ah! Here is something she can go back as your fiance provided you have a civil marriage within a certain time."

My wife started to protest that she was not going as my girlfriend, but I told her we were married in the sight of Allah, and what this guy was saying was not important, let's get the visa. So, within an hour we had the visa.

I managed to get my ticket changed so we could visit Saudi Arabia and perform Umrah on the way back to the UK. We actually met another brother in the Haram Sharieff who had been unable to get to the wedding and he paid for us to go to Madina, al-hamdulillah.

We both wanted to raise any children in a Muslim country so I wrote to Saudi Arabia for a job. Eventually, we went to the University of Petroleum and Minerals, Dhahran, Saudi Arabia in 1974.

In 1986 I voluntarily moved to King Saud University in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The job was finished in 1997 (and we don't have any children - Allah karim).

Conversion #5

Conversion #4

Making Sense of the Jigsaw Puzzle
A Young Brit Finds Islam
By: Lori "Zakariyya" King

My immediate family, in terms of religious configuration in my mid-teens constituted of Catholics, members of the Church of England, moderately high-ranking Freemasons, fervent Astrologers, Spiritualists, dedicated Baptists, Capitalists, drug-worshipping Agnostics and West Ham United supporters.
Twice or thrice I would sink the intrigue of my eyes into a handful of photographs of my christening, having been a 370-day-old toddler I don't recall the movements of the occasion. Yet, I often dreamt visits to this rag of history in my later childhood, strolling about a time locked Mary, Queen of Peace Church, appearing to me in sepia, silently inquiring of the significance of such a large gathering commemorating me.
I was Susie Lou's (one of my mother's childhood nicknames) firstborn, she cherished my unique existence and I believe handed me into the arms of Father Lawler on that warm, late August day as a harmless, bloodless sacrifice to please the gaze of her dependably Roman Catholic father, attempting to mirror the unrivalled love he had bestowed upon her over two decades.
My grandfather saw his eldest daughter bear four more children, none of whom felt the cool sensation of priestly water smear their scalp. My two aunts on that side have yet to be visited by the stork and even if there were a belated arrival, the aforementioned once-appeased look of devotion has since ceased to invite light. My mother's father relinquished his smile, set down his eyelids and locked up his eighty years of narrative in mid-2006. I miss him.
I am ashamed to say that I sometimes assumed a holier-than-thou position in regards to my family and would manipulate the fact my parents disowned any notion that normal people should seek to attain useful information.
They hid behind blockades of knowledge substitutes, the owners of these obstacles branded their creations with such outlandishly deceptive titles as 'The Daily Mirror', 'The Sun' and 'The Daily Mail'.
In spite of this I still needed, just as the duckling does the duck, chestnut does the oak tree, to extract as much comprehension of life as I could from these individuals.
Questions were at times lassoed by me, in other situations they were pre-empted, examples like how my floppy ears were filled with the moralistic saga of Eve and Adam. But when the infamous ladder of evolution also flashed before us Genesis was effortlessly juxtaposed by them with this puzzling piece of data.
Meaningful ideas and concepts held no physical weight for the King clan therefore amazingly the jigsaw could make like a low-flying cloud and fit perfectly against its enemy.
Being less than ten years old I stacked this conundrum vertically alongside a figure of comparables; we were Christians (or at least bearers of crucifixes) without knowing church, created beings lacking a common purpose, evasive of death, yet guaranteed Heaven. Thankfully, owing to gravity, Jenga is a game set to a limited length of time.
I love music, I hardly ever see or hear her intoxicating serenade these days, but until I find a mistress as satisfying I can't forget her. I always wanted to impress her, show my appreciation, more than dance with her; when you couple this with a desire to belong and bust free from a childhood that only saw new clothes on birthdays then out spews a 17-year-old, wrapped in import saggy jeans and a grubby hoodie, crouched on a church pew.
Curled around my neck were walkman wires emanating from Hip-Hop tapes from whence I sought intelligent lyrical advice. My GAP sheltered head bowed over the scene of an embrace, my palms embroiled in one lingering straight kiss.
When or why this prayer gesture became a prerequisite of entering a conversation with Christianity's God I can only guess.
With my makeshift hand microphone on I worriedly asked for time and guidance, naïvely anticipating that I could put off death until my lazy heart and mind would bother to resolve my way of life if He gave me the go-ahead.
I remained in this begging position for longer than was common in such a place of worship. Partly because I hoped to appear sincere to my cousin who sat beside me, but mainly due to the fact that I had reached the end of my time questioning Christianity and I believed that my next stage of life would possibly involve abandoning His directive.
Six years down the road I struggle to distinguish how much of my continued attendance at Amyand Park Chapel was down to going through the motions in order to at least appear subservient to my Creator, what proportion was that somewhat religious hankering for belonging, how prominent was the want of meaning, to what depth rebellion against Mother's anti-religious sentiment went and what part a lack of alternative spiritual solutions played. The place disappointed me.
Any direct questions regarding the origin of dogmatic equations were brushed aside, most relevant to me these days are those I presented regarding the nature of the Trinity, most discouraging at the time was the lack of factual information amongst any of the available scholars pertaining to the science of comparative religions, and most distasteful was the accepted undercurrent of racism.
The latter conducting my aunt's short burst of inquiry after her discovery of my decision – "but Lori, you're English!"
For me Anglo-political nationalistic conservatism could not go hand-in-hand with Divine Law.
I meant to go and study the other religions at some point, it sounds cool to say you have. My disillusionment with Christendom had convinced me that the true purpose of life could be extracted from a number of sources, mostly religious, save at times even the brief bursts of revelation we all receive.
I suppose I can appreciate that view now although a far more logical understanding of the issue is what I have thankfully adopted.
My head is once again bowing; less close to the ground this time. Trapped in my headlights is a chapter of a short information book. Concurrently I am writing my beloved poetry, at the top of my pad's page is a scribbled line to inspire my creative forces. I am nowhere near as conscious of the significance of the moment as I should be.
The words I had been reading had focused mainly on science, specifically embryology, geology, anatomy, meteorology, oceanography and cosmology. Within the cover's confines I'd also read a little history, some current affairs and admittedly had been enlightened.
There was also frank advice to my soul; I suppose this section was taken with a pinch of salt as I had been exposed to similar rhetoric from elsewhere.
What I focused on was the evidence; tangible, comprehendible, logical, researchable, factual proof of a system. I pondered. What I could not shake off was this glaring sense of recognition. I knew exactly where I had known this elucidation from; I would later discover that the term for it was fitrah.
I was asking myself during this moment of reflection whether or not the statement I had copied onto my paper was true and if I believed it. The constituents of the legend that I wrestled with were nothing more than one rejection and an affirmation.
I must emphasize that what I felt in that instant was not an overawing, supernatural sensation of being lifted onto a higher spiritual plain; no, it was far more sober, unpretentious and realistic than that.
A person's brain cannot be seen until their head is opened up (I favor a tin-opener for the task) yet we accept that it must be sitting within one's cranial wall. We observe the bodily functions triggered by the brain, respect that without the brain in place we are lifeless, fully understand that were the brain to malfunction various measures must be put in place to rectify it or if the failure is too extensive then we are rendered 'brain-dead', it is the definite end of the race for survival.
For us to be convinced that this sealed muscle is present underneath those layers we need very little persuasion despite it being very possible that nobody will ever smell, feel or hear our brain.
One biology book or an explanation from our parents in nursery years is usually enough to make us believe. Yet the existence and lordship of a universal Creator Whose Hallmark resounds in every atom of matter known to man, is denied regularly.
Imagine a little Nokia phone arguing with its owner that it produced itself or came about by a chance chemical reaction! Our bodies are almost infinitely more complex than a mobile telephone handset, so I was never convinced of an atheistic existence.
After far, far more examination than any of us apply to dodgy traditional theories I concluded that Muhammad (peace be upon him), the son of `Abdullah who lived in Arabia was the Prophet of Almighty God, following on from Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses and Jesus and the many other envoys sent to guide man and womankind.
One of the facets of Islam that I treasure and was so intrigued by five years ago was the concept of universal brotherhood and sisterhood. The Book revealed to him, the most superb act of literature of all time, the Qur'an was the literal word of God. Muhammad was neither a divine being, a saint nor was he a member of God's family; he simply came to give us the message that we are to worship God alone.
One of the facets of Islam that I treasure and was so intrigued by five years ago was the concept of universal brotherhood and sisterhood. In a number of the bright white churches I visited, the sense of segregation and stranglehold of xenophobic tendencies really put me off.
Teenagers sometimes take up a cause that they feel passionate about and it's usually private (except within the family home) and healthy, examples include anti-fur, social injustice, vegetarianism, sharing thrash metal with neighbours and loved ones at such a volume that nobody misses out. Mine was the equality of races.
The pre-conversion venue I know most intimately is Amyand Park, I mean I'm not so naïve as to expect the United Colours of Benetton to greet me when I totter into a Baptist church in Twickenham, but such a pale, inflexible lot obstructed likelihood of my attachment.
Even the solitary non-English family of attendees there were referred to openly as "the Ethiopians;" first names like Azarias and Hezkias were moulded to suit the preferences of the parishioners until 'Elizabeth' and 'Jimmy' evolved and I felt shame for them.
When I enter any moderately sized mosque I encounter a rainbow of people, I can totally see why Nick Griffin and his charming BNP absolutely loathe us; the flesh of pink, brown, yellow, auburn, terracotta, coffee, pallid, crème, ebony, ivory, beige, bronze and then my cherry cheeks brimming with amusement are a refreshing sight.
The negation and affirmation; that there is no deity worthy of worship but God and that Muhammad is His slave and Messenger is the foundation of Islam. Complications beyond that are dealt with in due course. I try hard to live my life according to this simple discovery and I pray that as I fizzle out, whenever it may be or wherever I shall be, that I have not let go of that wonderful understanding.

Conversion #3

Conversion #2

Through Loves She Found Her Way to Islam
Fatima's Ultimate Journey
By: Mahmood Sanglay

Fatima Mali is a domestic worker from the squatter camp of Crossroads located on the outskirts of Cape Town (South Africa), who embraced Islam in 2005. Born in 1955 in the Transkei, she came to Cape Town in 1991 in search of work.

Sixteen years later Fatima is one of ten recipients of the Gifted Hajj program, that presents at least ten deserving Muslims with the opportunity of fulfilling the requirements of the fifth pillar of Islam, the pilgrimage to the cities of Makkah and Madinah. Fatima departed for Saudi Arabia on November 12.

This is Fatima's ultimate journey. Not because it is the first time she will set foot outside her country. Not because it is the first time she will set foot on an aircraft. Not even because the hajj is the ultimate journey for every Muslim.

Fatima's Hajj is the ultimate journey because her journey begins before she receives the good news of the Gifted Hajj. Her journey begins with the first steps she takes towards consciously embracing the life of a Muslim.

It is an ordinary working day in 1995. Fatima, then known as Nozibele Phylis Mali, is busy working for her employer, Mehrunisa Dawood, fondly known as Mehrun bhana, in Rylands Estate. She is busy sweeping a room from which she can clearly hear Mehrun bhana's son, Shafeeq, in the lounge, revising the Qur'anic chapters he has memorized. Fatima is listening, spellbound. This is strange, interesting, she thinks, although she does not understand a word.

"Why is this child sitting like this?" Fatima's wonderment brings her work almost to a standstill. As a diligent worker she does not want to appear to be slowing down her work, so she watches secretly.

"I don't want him to see me because I must work," Fatima said.

But she is so drawn to the recitation, the respectful way this child is sitting with the book he holds. It is so beautiful and almost disturbing at the same time, because it is so beautiful yet you cannot understand. Fatima started questioning why she is so attracted to this melodious sound?"

She hears footsteps, and quickly resumes her work. But her mind and her heart are fixed on this child reciting the book. She knows neither the Qur'an, nor Islam. But, as she watches and listens, she ultimately recognizes one powerful truth: "This thing comes in my heart."

Touching the Heart

And so the one thing that comes into her heart is Shafeeq's recitation, his posture, the whole atmosphere created by a sacred moment.

But there are other things too, she says, that come into her heart.

"This lady, every morning when I'm coming here, she's got a smiling face." Even when Fatima errs in her work, she has learned that there is no fear of reprisal for the common mistake in domestic chores. Instead, there is the culture of admonishment with kindness.

This treatment is very different from that which Fatima experienced whilst in the service of a previous Muslim employers. With Mehrun bhana it is an unusual relationship. There is a sisterhood that transcends the typical race, class and employer-employee barriers.

Her food is served on the same plates as the rest of the family and she eats at the same table as Mehrun bhana. When one touches another person through these man-made barriers, then one reaches the heart of the other. Fatima feels this touch and recognizes it as a feeling that makes her "smile and cry at the same time."

Another thing that comes into her heart is Mehrun Bhana's ritual ablution and prayer. At 1pm Mehrun bhana goes into the bathroom and comes out with a beautiful long top and a scarf.

Her questions multiply, urging like a wave. What is going on in this house? Why am I so attracted to these people and their life? Mehrun bhana senses her curiosity. She knows Fatima is clearly searching for spiritual guidance.

Fatima had been born into the Methodist Church and is the only surviving member of her family.

Mehrun bhana prompts a discussion with Fatima on religion, the church and her faith. They speak of the things that dissatisfy Fatima in her faith over breakfast. Mehrun bhana advises her to pray.

"When you leave my door, speak to God. Say 'O God, please help me. Show me the truth.' Say that all the time as you walk until you get to your home, and God will show you the path."

Several months later Mehrun bhana takes Fatima to the Islamic Da'wah Movement (IDM) office where a Xhosa-speaking member of the organization explains Islam to her in her native language. Right after that Fatima decided to embrace Islam.

Mehrun bhana reflects on the day Fatima goes to the IDM: "When I came back the Imam said: 'she immediately said the Shahadah and adopted the name Fatima.' It was a very emotional moment for me. I was actually speechless."

Hardships of a New Life

The change in Fatima's life is visible. She describes herself as a person who was at first preoccupied with her own needs, and who has become one who is genuinely concerned about the needs of others. Previously she had no time for others. Now, she says, she even makes time to smile.

But the new life does not come to her without its hardship. Although her brother Douglas is always very kind to her and shares his home with her, his wife, Christina, is vehemently opposed to her sister-in-law's new faith and she openly resents Fatima, deliberately making life difficult for her.

However, Fatima perseveres with patience and constancy. She is neither deterred from practicing her faith, nor from refraining to respond in like manner to Christina.

Christina's hostility compels Fatima to leave her brother's home and seek refuge in the nearby home of another sister in Islam, Nadia. Soon after she embraced Islam Fatima helped a neighbor and his two children who are abandoned by their mother.

The father is so overwhelmed by the benevolence of Fatima and Nadia that he feels drawn to their faith and, with his children, embraces Islam later.

The angel of death

Within a few months an unexpected turn of events presents Fatima with another challenge. In 1996 Christina's teenage son falls seriously ill and dies of injuries sustained in an accident. Fatima responds with magnanimity and comes to the aid of her sister-in-law. At a time when all Christina's friends forsake her after the funeral, Fatima remains faithfully at the side of the grieving mother and helps to heal her broken spirit.

Is it not in the nature of a grieving spirit to recognize compassion foremost from one who had been rejected? Christina's heart melts with Fatima's compassion. Her hostility dissipates and she is transformed into a bosom friend.

She asks Fatima to let her come with to Macassar to attend the weekly madrasa (school) where they learn the basic teachings of Islam. After three visits to the madrasa Christina's heart relents and she finally embraces Islam, adopting the Muslim name Shanaaz. A bitter sister-in-law is transformed into a beloved sister-in-faith.

And so Fatima becomes familiar with the visits of the angel of death. This messenger had already summoned the souls of many of her nearest kin; All her siblings, her parents, her husband, and the last one was Douglas, her beloved brother, who met his death in October 2006 as a victim of an armed robbery. This incident occurred three days before he is due to visit the offices of the IDM to embrace Islam. Fatima grieves, but her comfort is that Douglas had made the niyyah (intention) to accept Islam, and that his reward is the realization of that niyyah.

The ultimate journey

Fatima does not speak of her joy of undertaking the Hajj. Before the decision was announced she simply "never put it in [her] heart" until the good news reached her in April this year. It is a quiet joy, tempered by the preparation and instruction under the tutelage of teacher Yasmina.

Mehrun Bhana offers further guidance and takes care of the physical and logistical matters. The Gifted Hajj Committee attends to the basic costs. Fatima is excited, but she continues to fulfill her role as helper and caregiver in her community wherever there is a need and where it is possible to help.

Her four sons, aged 27, 18, 14 and 12, accepted Islam immediately when they arrive in Cape Town from the Transkei at the end of 2006. Nozuko, Fatima's first-born, is married and has not yet accepted Islam, but undertakes the responsibility to look after her younger siblings in her mother's absence.

In her original journey, from a self-centered woman, to a compassionate Muslim, Fatima touches the lives of many people. Of these, a total of fifteen people commit themselves to the Islamic faith, including her children and neighbors.

Of the fifteen, Shanaaz remains the most important symbol of reconciliation and steadfastness in Fatima's journey. In a deeply profound way Shanaaz represents a true measure of Fatima's devotion. For the past four years Shanaaz has been living with cancer. Her condition is deteriorating and Fatima continues to care for her sister in Islam who was married to her brother. The bond of faith supersedes, but also affirms, the bond of family.

Mehrun bhana affirms that propagation of Islam begins at home. Fatima reflects, "Allah is love… so, I must try to love." Two women complete the circle of giving and receiving.

But Fatima's journey is not yet full circle. When and how it will be, Allah knows best.

Conversion #1