Keeping you in my Duas, Always

I thought about the life my grandmother envisioned for me and my future children, my parents and my siblings, my aunts and my cousins. Every day, my grandmother goes to sleep with these dreams and wakes up because of them. She would rush to pray in the last third of the night, patiently making dua that they would become a reality. And I feel that I am living half the dreams she had told me.

When I think about what I want to be remembered for, I immediately think about my acts of kindness. In my experience, I have learned that the process of legacy-making is one that combines creativity and spirituality: imagining the life we want for ourselves and our descendants, and continuously asking for Allah’s SWT guidance in connecting those life experiences. Legacy should not be thought of merely as an endpoint—it is an accumulation of processes. Our legacies are partly empowered by the duas of our loved ones, which tie the strings of fate that nurtures us to be better Muslims as we mature through life.

I was grateful that I never had to challenge my belief— of the constant opportunities for acts of kindness, of meeting the right people at the right time, of the promise of a future. I witnessed the vitality of my grandmother’s duas, how they align fates that bring me closer to my goals. But to believe that this is true for all my Muslim brothers and sisters around the world seems to be imprecise. And by the will of Allah SWT, my belief was challenged.

Two weeks ago, I visited my friend’s apartment to study together, where I met a Lebanese postgraduate student. He is a friend of my friend, and since we were sitting at the same table, I introduced myself. I ran him through the template introduction - I’m Hasna, I’m a third-year student, I study International Relations and Public Policy. These days, the mention of my field of study would lead to a long questioning about my thoughts of the occupation in Palestine and the resistance movement, and this time, it was no different. “The world is very polarizing now,” he sighed, after I asked him if he’d heard of the killing of the Palestinian child in Chicago. “People keep telling us to make duas, but what’s the point anymore? Where is God in all of this?”

As I reflected on his remarks, I started rethinking specifically about my pitch for this piece, the one you’re reading. If a Muslim’s legacy is their acts of kindness and their encounters with opportunities for those acts are empowered by their loved ones’ duas, to what extent can this be true for our brothers and sisters in Palestine?

Palestinians make more duas for those who passed than those who remained. They pray more janazah prayers than they do the fard. How can they practice kindness when the world is unkind? How can they maintain steadfastness in their duas when the promise of a future, a liberated Palestine, seems like a distance away?

My acquaintance’s thoughts, however, reveal a bigger problem in our Ummah. In post-9/11 North America, the continuous attack on the collective identity of Muslims has challenged our ability to unite in empathy with our Muslim brothers and sisters worldwide, for fear of more surveillance and persecution. The Western world’s hostility has fragmented our voice as an Ummah, pushing many to a crisis of faith that leads to self-reliance—a frustration shared by my Lebanese acquaintance.

Conversely, Allah SWT will not afflict calamities on His believers without leaving His hikmah in this world. Look around—our Ummah has only emerged even more resilient after decades of silencing. Allah SWT softens the hearts of many towards Islam and reveals the hypocrisy of the oppressors. Non-Muslims marvel at Palestinians’ resilience, turning to the Quran for answers. Millions worldwide call for a ceasefire in Gaza and the end of the occupation. I believe there has been no easier time to mobilize collectively against the Israeli occupation than this past month, Alhamdulillah. Our promotion of righteousness and condemnation of evil proves that we are amongst “the best community ever raised in humanity” (Quran 3:110). So let us honour the invitation from our Lord to reclaim our narrative— to focus on how we can individually contribute to the Ummah’s broader legacy while proudly displaying our kindness and softness.

Oftentimes when we think about legacy, we are simply thinking in terms of individuals. We do acts of kindness because we feel the direct, personal benefit of doing good—it brings us closer to Allah SWT and it is a learning process to be a kinder human being. Since it is human nature to believe whatever is perceptible, the benefits become more pronounced if we can see the reciever of our kindness.

That’s why the extent that we can think of our individual legacies as a collective one would typically encompass our closest people, such as our family and friends. It is slightly more difficult to think of our role within the broader Ummah and how our voice can matter if we are just one amongst the billions.

Our Palestinian brothers and sisters understand the value of a voice, be it in the forms of resistance against the oppressor or supplication to the Creator. We are created as one Ummah to give and receive kindness in this world, especially through times of trials. The smallest forms of kindness, our sincere duas, may only have an intangible impact. When a believer is hit with trials, another offers kindness so they can renew their faith in Allah SWT and persist through their tests with patience and strength. When Allah SWT removes those trials, they will feel their heart expanded, ready to give kindness to those in need. However, it is only by the grace of Allah SWT that He rewards us in this cycle. Allah SWT is the turner of hearts and the giver of peace. So how can He be unjust, when He’s destined that we have each other in these tough times?

As an Ummah, let our legacy be that we had strengthened our ties through our acts of giving and receiving kindness. On the Day of Judgment, may we testify before our Lord that we had been each other’s relief through difficulties. “So that Allah may forgive you for your past and future shortcomings, perfect His favour upon you, and guide you along the Straight Path” (Quran 48:2). Let us continue our days ahead with this bigger purpose in mind, bound by a promise— to keep each other in our duas, always.