IT HAS BEEN five years since I had Covid. Back in March 2020, I was one of the first among the people I knew to be affected. It was an occupational hazard.
I remember feeling ill on a beautiful spring day, much like today. I remember the fear that came with uncertainty. The crushing sense of isolation.
At that time, Covid was still largely unknown. We had seen what it had done in China and Italy. There was no cure. For some, it was just a brief fever; for others, it had lasting effects. And for some, it was their time to return to Allah.
I was bedridden for three weeks, confined to my daughter’s room, speaking to my family only through a closed door. By the end of it, I had lost so much muscle that it took weeks before I could walk properly again. I never fully recovered—I feel weaker now, I tire easily, and I struggle to catch my breath.
It was tough on my family. The lockdown had started just two days earlier. Suddenly, the things we took for granted—human interaction, going out, shopping, work, and school—were gone. Everything moved online (a mental health crisis in the making for the younger generation). My wife had to carry it all.
It is easy to forget the tests that Allah puts us through once we recover and life returns to normal. But we shouldn’t.
This life is fragile. It is a test. The only certainty is meeting Allah and the Hereafter. The ayat we recite, the lessons of our deen, were my light in the darkness. In a time of uncertainty, they gave me hope.
This world, I realised, is deceiving. The West, with all its values and material advancements, turned out to be a sham. Science didn’t have all the answers. The government didn’t care about human life—only the rich mattered, and their corruption was plain to see. They lied to us, making one rule for themselves and another for the rest of us. They betrayed us.
I was on the front lines, willing to put my life at risk, yet we had no gloves, no masks, no aprons—because the government had chosen to cut corners. The healthcare system is still struggling to recover. The economy was wrecked as money was created out of thin air. But the billionaires? They thrived.
For a moment, people recognised the importance of essential workers—teachers, nurses, doctors, cleaners, grocers. But that moment passed, and the emptiness of this society became clear again.
They told us we were all in the same boat. What a lie. We were in the same storm, but in different boats—some in luxurious yachts, others drowning in tiny dinghies.
Have things changed? No. They have only gotten worse. We live in an uncaring, unforgiving, and unequal society where might makes right, and the weak are trampled on. The so-called enlightened values of the West were tested then, and now with Gaza, their hypocrisy is clearer than ever—lies, more lies, and damned lies.
They want us to forget what happened five years ago, burying it under layers of distraction and indulgence.
But the wise—the grateful—do not forget.
The world needs the light of Islam today. Not just in our individual lives, but as a way of life. A force for justice, security, and dignity for all people.
If we haven’t learned that, then we haven’t learned anything.
Living For Islam 