Forgotten and Destitute
I am the Forgotten, the Destitute, the poor and the weak. I am the occupier lying on the side of the street… I am the softener of hearts, the one who brings a person close to the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, I have nothing, but I am still grateful… Who am I?
Whilst people worry about the Coronavirus and its effects on the global economy, on the livelihoods of everyday people, and the health of generations to come. They worry about the challenges to privacy and immunisations, and indeed where they will find a mask or some sanitiser.
But amongst the anxiety, the fear and the panic. Amongst the mistrust, the stocked-up fridges and freezers, the mass WhatsApp news updates and more… There are a people so destitute, so stricken, so far away from our minds that even in the solace of a private Ramadhan in seclusion we haven’t the heart to remember them.
Our hearts, our eyes and our fingers ever poised on our phones, do not tremble in fear, and however hard we try we cannot cry tears that drench our beards and clothes at their remembrance.
Why have our hearts become so hard, and so numb to the pain of others...
Is it because we have forgotten the most destitute amongst us.
In a world we say is one global community, a world we say is smaller than ever before, a world we say is all connected, how can we then sleep and be content in our homes when there is so much pain around us.
Due to blockage of roads, stopping of air travel, actions of repressive regimes; and the closure of thousands of institutions that kept our hearts tender; there are a people who used to rely on the Madaris, who used to rely on the raising of money from around the world during Ramadhan. A people who were cared for by the Ulama and their families.
But because of grave injustices, because of the fear of covid-19 and its effects on our ability to remember them. These people are suffering in silence, in darkness, alone, destitute and dying not of the virus, but of loneliness and hunger.
Whilst we worry about the short, medium- and long-term impact to our businesses, and what we will have this evening to open our simple fasts at iftar…
There are people right now who are (and it is being and will be confirmed by all aid agencies very soon) suffering from famine, yes famine. And who are dying because of poverty, because their means of income, of donations, and of care, have been stripped away from them without a care in the world, within a matter of hours, within one single news briefing, that destroyed the livelihoods of millions of innocent, yet healthy people.
Who are these people...?
These are the orphans who live on the sides of streets, in slums with no protection anymore from not only the elements but no protection from being ravaged.
They are desperate for our help and support. They cry, with their thin lifeless arms raised up to us, asking us to share just a little something from our wealth.
We walk past, we flick our screens quickly to the next story. It is too unbearable to see, to think about, to acknowledge and certainly to remember.
How many Governments have mentioned the impact of their actions on the widows and orphans of the world? The impact of closing a madrassah or institution within which orphans were educated and looked after.
No one cares to utter their fate.
How many times when we are making dua during iftar have we specifically remembered these kind selfless and destitute souls, whose eyes look up at us with hope. How many times have we cried knowing that ‘This Ramadhan 2021’ there is no appeal in many masajid for these people. They have done nothing to deserve their plight. Whilst we plunder, they suffer, whilst we eat, they starve, whilst we lie in bed safe and secure, they lie on the street in fear.
How many times have we genuinely cried for them? We can shed a tear at the bravery of our NHS colleagues, and the videos of sweet little puppies wanting to run free from quarantine.
But what about those innocent children and those innocent widows who are quarantined without a home, who are quarantined out in the cold, in the heat, and in the street.
Cry, cry and cry again. How have our hearts become so hard that we cannot spare a thought, let alone a tear and a prayer, and let alone a donation.
How far have we fallen…?
There is so much emerging evidence that the global impact of this virus will hurt those most vulnerable in ways we cannot imagine.
That’s why this Ramadhan we’re campaigning to urgently sponsor a minimum of 120 Orphans and get much-needed help to them urgently and support them for the rest of the year Insha’Allah. And I pray that we can continue this campaign year after year.
Even our beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was an orphan, so destitute at one point that he had to eat bread with vinegar, that he had only one date in his house, that he had to tie stones to his stomach to stop the pangs of hunger… But he was and became the leader of both worlds Alhamdulillah.
My tears, my fears, and my efforts this Ramadhan are with these forgotten souls.
Do not let them be Forgotten and Destitute, look into their eyes and see into their hearts, and see the love, beauty and innocence of their souls.
Donate today through Eternal Aid and sponsor at least one orphan for this year. And with only 68p a day commit to sponsoring this orphan year after year, and Insha’Allah is together in Jannah with the King of all orphans… ﷺ Alhamdulillah.
Stop your hearts bleeding; do not hesitate; do not delay; donate right now; donate today:
If every follower pledges to sponsor one Orphan, costing only 68p per day = £21 a month = £250 a year. We can sponsor and save the lives of thousands. Supporting them with food, shelter, education, healthcare and much-needed protection.
Are you going to sponsor an Orphan? Are you going to cry for them? Are you going to share this intention of sponsorship on behalf of the Prophet ﷺ, your spiritual mentor, and on behalf of your parents and family, or deceased, so that you can all share in this noble act?
Are you going to save a soul? Yours and theirs?