My name is Alia Umm Rayan. I was born and raised in East London in a predominantly Muslim area, mostly populated by people from Bangladesh. My background is mixed; my mother is Italian and my father is Nigerian from West Africa. But more than that, I believe Alia is a soul on a journey towards God, Almighty.
**Early Faith and First Encounters with Islam**
As a teenager, I always believed in the existence of a God. My mother raised me to be curious about life and the purpose of the world. Although I was raised Christian, there were gaps. From a young age, I doubted Christian principles. While I was emotionally and spiritually inclined to believe, I couldn't reconcile with it intellectually—how could we worship the Son of God? How could God and His son be one? Most importantly, He was a man like me. I couldn't logically understand worshiping another human. I remember asking a priest this question one day, and he told me to "just have faith." In that moment, I knew this wasn't the religion for me.
My first encounters with Islam were in childhood. At about eight years old, I lived opposite a temporary mosque (a shipping container). From my window, I could see the prayer area and watched people bowing and prostrating. I found it mesmerizing. Around the same age, during a particularly bad argument between my parents, I took my mother's Asian scarf, threw it on the floor, and prostrated. I was just a child mimicking what I had seen, begging God to make them stop fighting. I felt that God would hear me because prostration brings you closer to Him.
At age ten, a classmate died in an accident. I pleaded to attend his janazah (funeral prayer) at the East London Mosque. I was likely the only non-Muslim child there. I prayed Dhuhr and then the Janazah prayer. During the prostration, I felt that same overwhelming closeness to God I had felt two years earlier.
**The Search and The Struggle**
As my home life deteriorated, God placed a person in my path during secondary school: a devout Muslim classmate. She came from a home with even worse domestic violence, yet she carried an incredible internal peace. When I asked her secret, she said it was her faith. We became very close despite our differences. Wanting to "save" her from what I saw as a restrictive religion, I began studying Islam with a proud motive—to find contradictions and disprove it.
I started reading articles, listening to tapes, and reading the Quran. But the opposite happened. The more I researched, the more convinced I became. I couldn't find contradictions; instead, I found a comprehensive way of life and scientific proofs in the Quran. This terrified me. I knew that if I accepted this truth, I would have to change my entire life. The fear of losing my freedom was paralyzing. So, I stopped. I put away the books, the articles, the tapes, and the Quran. It became psychologically and emotionally exhausting. I was afraid of what I believed.
**The Moment of Conversion**
This internal battle continued until one pivotal day. I was trying to study but could only think about Islam and the evidence I had found. I went for a walk to clear my head. While waiting to cross a road, the light turned green, but my feet were rooted to the ground. A thought struck me: *If I cross this road and get hit by a car and die, knowing what I know to be true, what would that mean?* I realized the truth: *Why don't I just bear witness to what I believe?*
I went home, called my friend, and told her I believed and wanted to say the Shahadah. I uttered the testimony of faith that following Monday.
**The Painful Aftermath and Straying**
I was a headstrong teenager. I told my mother by coming home wearing the hijab—not the best decision. She thought it was a phase, but this "phase" has lasted 24 years, Alhamdulillah.
After my conversion, I lost my family and friends. The hardest challenge was losing my relationship with my mother. At seventeen, she told me she had completed her task and would not be my mother anymore, that I was on my own. To be rejected by your mother at that age is deeply painful. I was alone, had to find work, and faced many difficulties without family support.
I also struggled within the Muslim community, swinging from one extreme group to another. I felt a profound, lonely alienation and didn't know where I belonged. The identity crisis as a new Muslim, compounded by family rejection, was overwhelming.
In a moment of utter despair, I called my mother from the hospital and begged her to take me home. I stopped practicing Islam. I took off my hijab, stopped praying, and distanced myself from the Muslim community—though I held onto the core beliefs in my heart. I had accepted Islam through intellectual conviction, but the social and emotional toll was too heavy.
**The Return Home – To Faith**
I got a job, moved again, and was outwardly "free." But I felt an immense emptiness. After a few years, this void became unbearable. I knew the cause: I was living a life incongruent with my beliefs. So, I began returning to Islam slowly, on my own terms—without the pressure of any particular group.
This journey back to my Creator was beautiful. I started by reading just one page of the Quran in English daily. I began styling my hair in African braids, which then evolved into wearing the hijab again. I returned to prayer. It was a beautiful moment because it was just between me and my Lord.
**The Miracle of My Mother's Guidance**
Over time, my mother left her husband and began to heal. We worked hard to repair our relationship. In 2015, while I was living abroad, she started asking about Islam. She was fascinated by history, particularly Islamic history. She told me she wanted to convert and said the Shahadah, but after a short while, she couldn't maintain her faith, largely due to having no Muslim support around her.
Then, in 2021, she began watching YouTube videos by an American sister named Aisha Barrière and then by Sheikh Khalid Yasin. She was enthralled. He spoke to her soul with deep knowledge and historical understanding. She would excitedly tell me everything she learned from his videos.
Wanting to facilitate this, I managed to contact Sheikh Khalid Yasin. I explained my mother's journey. Moved by her story, he agreed to speak with her without her knowing his identity at first. In a Zoom meeting I arranged, he skillfully guided the conversation. By the end, he revealed who he was. She was stunned. They had several more sessions, and ultimately, she uttered the Shahadah once more, Alhamdulillah.
**On True Freedom**
Did Islam and the hijab restrict my freedom? In truth, I gained my freedom after embracing Islam. Freedom means liberation from the shackles imposed by other people's expectations. When you connect with your Creator and live for the purpose He designed you for, that is true freedom.
We are all slaves to something—our desires, money, family, work. I prefer to be a servant to the One who created me, who is Perfect and Whole, rather than to something as fleeting as I am. I once felt Islam suppressed women, but I've come to realize that Islam in its pure form, distinct from cultural traditions, honors women profoundly. The way God Almighty protects, supports, and values women, and the teachings of the Prophet (peace be upon him), show that women are cherished gems.
When I think of where I'd be if God hadn't guided me... I link my value to my Lord. Understanding this, I realize the woman in Islam is truly free, honored, protected, and held in high esteem.
**A Final Message**
If I could address all non-Muslims in the world for a minute, I would say: There *must* be a purpose behind the daily routine of life. If you think this life is all there is, that is the saddest thought one could have. This life is like a crazy rollercoaster—full of trials, difficulties, sadness, and injustice. If this is it, then why were we created?
I would ask them to contemplate the universe. Pick up a flower and see how it grows from a tiny seed, becomes something beautiful, then wilts and dies. Stand before the ocean and ponder the life in its depths. Take a leaf and marvel at the design of that one small thing. Ask yourselves: Where did this come from? What is the purpose of this leaf, this flower, this ocean?
Then realize that you, too, are part of this creation. So, if there's a purpose for the leaf and the flower, what is the purpose for *me*? That is what I would ask them to think about.
Post a Comment