folio

If I should disappear from the online ummah, it is not to say I have become a disbeliever. My faith in God is unshakeable. Daily will I perform salah, just as I have done five times a day for the past twenty-five years.

With every mouthful, I will still utter, “Bismillah.” When I fall into sin, I will still invoke the Most Merciful, turning back in tawba. I will still be found in circles of knowledge and congregational prayer. Every rite enjoined upon me, I will carry out to the best of my abilities, if God wills.

If I should disappear, it’s not for lack of faith, or turning my back on the way. No, the complete reverse.

It will be to turn my back not on God, but on the ugly clamour of those who set themselves up as spokesmen of the deen while they pay no heed to truth, justice or virtue. It will be to remove myself from those who have revealed themselves by their actions, calling the people to something, but not the truth.

When zealous activists behave like a protection racket, with no shame at all, you know there is no value in honouring their opinions. They have no guidance to offer the common man. Nothing of any weight at all.

I think the time has come to disappear once and for all. To become an anonymous believer, unrecognised when present and unmissed in absence. To disappear back into private realms, just like the common man who toils hard for his family, unknown to the hundreds and thousands.

If I should disappear, it will be to wander on along the path, unbothered by the harassment of the hunters, so desperate to preserve status and reputation, even at the expense of the truth. It will be to pursue a truer, more sincere faith, if the Most Merciful wills. Perhaps I will disappear.