The Preacher Paradox

Before you proceed, I’d like to mention that I’m Hausa and a Muslim so most of what is contained herein seems targeted at a certain group but it really isn’t. If you look closely enough, you’ll see that it applies to your religion or community as well. I’ll use past tenses a lot but most of the things they refer to are still happening; I’m trying to navigate murky waters here but hang in there, hopefully it’ll be worth your while. Enjoy.
I’m probably the most self-contradictory person I’ve ever known; so much good in me and so much not-so-good stuff. It is for this reason I think of myself as the least person in the pecking order for preaching good; I don’t see myself as morally superior to anyone hence I have a lot of trouble assuming the role of an evangelist, a guardian of values if you will. But I find myself a believer of a religion which places so much importance on encouraging good and discouraging evil and it’s quite difficult finding that balance between sincere advice and condescending criticism laced with arrogance. I hear this issue exists in Christianity as well but Islam is the one I know well enough to have an opinion about, which I’m willing to air. I’ve long felt disillusioned about the state of disarray in the Muslim world; it’s probably been there longer than I’ve been aware but I only got to see this first-hand when I went to University. It was such a culture shock for me; the holier-than-thou aura everyone seemed to have about them choked me, it didn’t take long before the shock turned to disgust. See, they judged everyone right from the important stuff to the trivial bits; not that passing judgement on the important stuff was right or anything but still, it was baffling how much time these people had on their hands to expend on others. They had these “picture frames” for everyone and you were supposed to cram yourself in or else… Women bore the brunt of it as they were judged on their dressing, makeup, type of laughter, you name it. Women were supposed to be shy and if they weren’t born like that, they were supposed to fake it otherwise they were dismissed as lacking home training. You were supposed to pretend to be “good”, fake it till you make it I suppose, except this wasn’t that. This was a culmination of decades of shying away from the truth and the failure to fight ignorance.
Everything was justified using Islam, every damn thing. See, the Quran and Hadith are a treasure trove of goodness but could easily be subverted to do evil. All the verses have contexts under which they were revealed and without them, things can be pretty confusing; these contexts are called Tafsir but for some reason, us Muslims have found a way to avoid these and formulate our own contexts as well as extrapolate them recklessly to judge present day situations. Yes, a lot of issues have been tackled by the Quran and the Hadith but there are grey areas which are best avoided but that’s too mainstream for our people. This, among other things, resulted in the cesspool I found myself in at the time. There was so much ignorance flying around and this inability to separate the Hausa culture from Islam was prevalent. Granted, Islam is a way of life but the Hausa culture isn’t Islam even though there are lots of similarities which admittedly form most if not all that is good in the culture. Even the good is fast fading, Hausa people tend to be honest more often than not, they can be very kind, they have this sense of community which can be very beautiful to behold and they have this modesty and contentment that is fast eroding in other parts of the world. The Hausa culture existed long before Islam in the North and hence, it’s nigh on impossible to replace every single one of its rules with Islam’s but for some reason, the people around me believed their culture was perfect and a synonym for Islam. In fact, they seemed to think that after the Saudi Arabs, they were the best of Muslims; the finest creations of Allah. Laughable, I know. It was this unjustified feeling of superiority, I believe, that helped numb the guilt of judging everyone but themselves. I had never been a huge fan of sermons, mostly because of my own shortcomings as well as thoughts of eternity; eternity scares me more than most things because merely trying to make sense of it leaves my brain in knots of confusion. But then everyone seemed to be a fan of sermons there; they listened to these scholars religiously and looked down on anyone who didn’t. To them, you were a Muslim of questionable faith for not following their ways without second thoughts. To question anything was to have low levels of Iman (Arabic for faith). The worst part was that these sermons seemed to preach and actively encourage hatred for all things and people that seemed to oppose their brand of Islam. You were with them or against them. For a people who followed a religion whose name has its roots in Salaam (Arabic for peace), the irony couldn’t be more pronounced. These same people complained regularly about the plight of fellow Muslims all over the world yet there was this feeling that they only felt that way because the table was turned against their own; they wouldn’t have any issues if the people suffering weren’t Muslims. They couldn’t see that us Muslims were making it really hard for others to like us. How could non-Muslims like us while we made it clear to them that they were dirt (or worse) to us?
This couldn’t be further away from what Islam is. Islam is a religion of peace which values tolerance above all; the last verse in Suratul Kaafirun (109:6) comes to mind: “To you be your religion, and to me my religion”. That was the Prophet’s response to the idol worshippers of Makkah who invited him to join them in their religion but here I was amongst his supposed followers who would most likely beat up anyone who dared invite them to another religion. Their response to anything that remotely challenged their views was violence; this coming from a religion of peace. What peace? The irony was lost on them and there seemed to be no hope. I got weird looks in the mosque for sagging my jeans (not that I’m justifying it or anything but what has this got to do with my faith?); in fact, lots of people in school didn’t know I was Hausa and Muslim until my second year or so. I just didn’t fit the bill; I was nothing like them, I didn’t hang out with only Hausa or Muslim people, I sagged my jeans (I’ve since repented, I promise), I owned no traditional clothes (I look like a leprechaun in them) and hence wore jeans and tees to mosque on Fridays (oh, the horror!), I listened to a lot of music and made no effort to hide it, I questioned a lot of things about Islam that didn’t make sense to me, I was disgusted by the lack of ambition displayed most especially by the ladies in the society (they believed this was part of Islam), the list is endless, man. Most of these things were trivial but they were used to judge me. I believed in Allah and his messenger, prayed five times daily, gave alms to the poor, fasted during Ramadan and was looking forward to going for Hajj when I could afford it -- the five pillars of Islam were technically complete -- but I was an incomplete Muslim to them, and most likely going to hell, because I sagged my jeans.
They claimed everything was at Allah’s discretion yet comfortably assumed the role of passing judgement on their fellow humans; as if they’d been promised heaven while the rest of us were asleep. How could a sinner dare to look down on other sinners? I mean, we may sin differently but uhmm, we’re all sinners bruh. We can only do as much good as we can and hope it’s enough come Judgement Day. It’s this feeling of not knowing where we stand that should act as a deterrent whenever we feel this urge to look down on others who may or may not be as “holy” as we are. This same feeling should keep us so busy with making ourselves better that we have no time to question the faith of others; how sure are you that you’re not going to hell yourself? God does not owe it to any of us to accept our good deeds: when all is said and done, everything is at His discretion. Shouldn’t this uncertainty keep us in check? These are the questions I often ask myself when I try to make sense of this.
I’ve since left the place behind but I’ve only met more Muslims who are a lot like those back there. I thought it was a Northern thing but it wasn’t. This rut seemed to be deeper than I thought. Everyone was rushing to pass judgement on others, to condemn and dismiss people who didn’t behave as per the set template. Women seemed to be the most affected victims once more. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the hijab or any of the things the Quran/hadith recommends but I have a huge problem with twisting verses to serve our ignorant purposes. One man once refused to follow another in prayer because the latter wore jeans; the former claimed he wasn’t dressed responsibly and that he looked like a Jew. Yes, this is how low we’ve gotten. We’ve learnt to justify rubbish by claiming it’s what the Jews do; a clear misunderstanding of verses. There’s no verse in the Quran which says we should wear Hausa/Yoruba/traditional clothes to pray but for some reason, it’s now seen as Islamic to do so. God forbid you ask where they got the justification for that. It’s with this attitude that women are placed under the microscope; everything they do is judged and they are accordingly called virtuous or shameless/slutty. I found myself amongst men who felt they had the authority to tell other women -- who weren’t under their care -- how to live. There’s nothing wrong with advice but it gets tricky when it’s about morality and there’s tact to this thing, you know. It gets even trickier when you’re trying to tell others about their wrong deeds when you have a ton of flaws yourself. This is why preaching isn’t for the ignorant or the foolish. Without knowing how to approach people, you risk alienating them. How the hell are they supposed to be part of a community which continually judges and shames them? You’re telling them they don’t belong yet you’d call them unbelievers at the slightest hint that they were considering leaving your community of holiness for one less judgemental. These men had been raised to feel entitled to a listening ear from any woman whose ways they wished to “correct” and it seemed the women had been raised to listen and keep quiet even if they had valid objections; in a way, this lack of objection seemed to lead the men into thinking that their sermons were hitting the proverbial sweet spot. This is certainly the case for the Hausa community; our culture is in desperate need of an overhaul. Any woman who dares talk back is shameless and westernised; her opinions are invalid and undeserving of a listening ear. Women are subverted by the culture and the men claim it’s religion but it’s not; there’s a hadith where a woman openly challenged Umar Ibn Khattab, the Caliph (in effect the leader of all Muslims in the world at the time), when he sought to impose a limit on dowry to encourage more youth to get married and he actually backed down from his stance, in public if I may add but this is basically considered haram in the current Hausa world. This confuses me as I’ve never come across men who pamper their women as much as the Hausas. Let me also add that there’s no indication that she was disrespectful in any way but the point is her opinion was heard (as opposed to being dismissed out of hand as is the case currently) and it was valid as her evidence was stronger.
I currently find myself exhausted from trying to reason with such men and I yearn for fresh air, free from the stench of the holier-than-thou perfume that they’re drenched in. I think our generation owes it to the upcoming ones to try and fix some of the wrongs in our culture which have invariably seeped into our religion (Islam in this case). More importantly, the women have a huge role to play as we can’t afford to continue having societies with entitled men and women who feel it’s okay; we have to raise our kids to be better. Ignorance must be fought with more seriousness; Islam is simple and all you need to focus on are the basics to realise this. The basics are enough and this is contained in a strong hadith. I think we’re better off focusing on the basics rather than trivial stuff which have led us to where we currently find ourselves; a fragmented Muslim community and by extension, a fragmented world. It’s not your business if a woman who isn’t under your care doesn’t wish to wear the hijab; if you don’t like what you see, look away. It’s not your job to force people on to the right path, whatever it is. What others choose to do with their lives is their cross to bear, not yours. You have no business correcting people if you lack neither the tact nor the undisputable proof by your side. People don’t owe you a listening ear, or obedience after you’ve “corrected” them. Correct yourself until you’re spotless and you’ll see that you have no time to pass judgement on others as you’d most likely be dead before you become spotless. We live in such challenging times and I get that it’s increasingly becoming difficult to be devout Muslims but that’s no excuse for aggressively preaching about “good”. You may think it’s good but that’s just you. If you follow the Prophet’s life closely, you’ll come to see that Islam isn’t so much about understanding what is forbidden as it is about understanding what is better.
Values are like a thin veneer stretched over our hearts; it can snap at any moment, or slowly erode from abuse and neglect until there’s nothing left of it and that’s why a certain level of commitment is required to maintain values. I think we live in a world that’s lost its values. Muslims, Christians, Hindus and Buddhists (sorry if your religion didn’t get a mention) have all been guilty of this. Have you noticed this in your society? What do you think is the solution? Are we doomed? Please feel free to comment.