Islam

By Aisha Musa Auyo

I preach kindness every now and then—kindness to a spouse, kids, parents, relatives, and others in our lives. But today, I want to dwell on the most crucial kindness… kindness to oneself.

This is a kindness that goes beyond this dunya (this world); a kindness that rewards you with the best of here and the hereafter. Being kind to oneself has many faces, but I’ll discuss the most important ones here:

Prioritising the Akhirah Over the Dunya

This world is merely a temporary place. Try as much as you can to resist the temptation of indulging in sins. Strive to stop any act that you would not love to die doing. Stop procrastinating regarding good deeds. We do not know when our lives will end; no one gives us notice. We owe ourselves this profound kindness: preparing for the inevitable.

The Investment of Sadaqah (Charity)

Giving out sadaqah, even if it’s merely half a date, expiates sins and prevents tragedy. We often spend a great deal on ourselves without calculation, yet when it comes to giving to others, we hold back and start calculating. What we forget is that whatever we give out is multiplied and comes back to us many times over. Whatever we spend only on ourselves ends here.

But you see, when we make other people’s lives easier, lessen their burden, or make them feel better, Allah multiplies that, and the reward is for both here and the hereafter. Whenever we spend on ourselves, let’s try to include those who are less privileged. We are not only helping others; we are being incredibly kind to ourselves beyond this dunya.

The Perpetual Reward of Sadaqah Jariyah (Ongoing Charity)

Let’s discuss Sadaqah Jariyah—a charity, in which the reward continues to reach you even after your death. We can achieve this through various means, such as investing in raising pious children, teaching the Quran, performing good deeds, drilling a source of water, contributing to an Islamic school or any other worthy cause, even if we can’t afford to sponsor it entirely, planting trees, etc.

We benefit more from this benevolence than the people it was intended for. We truly owe it to ourselves to show this type of kindness.

Cultivating Great Relationships

Cultivating good relationships with others, elevating their mood and ranks, making them feel great about themselves, and improving the quality of their lives are powerful ways we can be kind to ourselves. These are the investments that make people miss us and sincerely pray for us after we are gone. We owe this kindness to ourselves—being able to invoke the feeling of longing, missing, and praying for us when we are no longer here.

Sustaining Spiritual Well-being; keeping our mouth moist with Zikr (remembrance of Allah), Istighfar (seeking forgiveness), and Salawat (blessings upon the Prophet); reading the Quran; and constantly upgrading our knowledge and practice of our Deen (religion) is a kindness to ourselves that we should never compromise.

Integrity and Truthfulness

Saying the truth, having integrity and decency, minding one’s business, and having a halal (lawful) source of income is a profound kindness we owe ourselves, for this will be a shield from the Hellfire.

Simple, multiplied deeds

You see, a simple gesture—smiling at strangers, a kind word, an encouraging nod, removing a harmful object from the road, helping or feeding animals, or watering a plant—will go a long way in benefiting us here and hereafter. Angels are praying to Allah that whoever gives out, may Allah increase his wealth, and whoever withholds his wealth, may Allah withhold His blessings from him. So we should never forget that whatever we do, small or big, we shall receive it in multiples.

Being Intentional

One crucial thing I’d like to remind us here is to be intentional about everything we do. Let’s always ensure that our deeds and actions, big or small, are motivated by the reward of our Creator. Let every action or inaction emanate from the craving for Allah’s Rahma (Mercy) and the fear of His punishment. This, indeed, is the biggest kindness we owe ourselves.

Lemme stop here..

Aisha Musa Auyo is a doctoral researcher in educational psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, a caterer, a parenting, and a relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.

By Abdullahi Abubakar Lamido 

When Nigeria first introduced Islamic banking more than a decade ago, a section of the public, especially some Christian leaders, cried foul. They labelled it an attempt to Islamise the nation. The word Islamic became synonymous with suspicion. Yet, history has since given its verdict. The same Islamic banking and finance that was once denounced as a tool for religious expansion has now become one of the most credible components of Nigeria’s financial system. Today, the government of Nigeria, regardless of faith or political party, routinely issues Sukuk (Islamic bonds) to finance national infrastructure, build roads, and other developmental projects. 

If Islamic banking did not Islamise Nigeria, how on earth will the halal economy, a trade-based development initiative, suddenly do so?

Unfortunately, some commentators continue to see through the fog of prejudice rather than the lens of global economics. The recently developed Nigerian National Halal Economy Strategy is not a religious project. It is an economic vision. It seeks to position Nigeria within a rapidly expanding global market that respects ethics, transparency, environmental responsibility, and product integrity; values shared by all civilisations, not by Muslims alone.

Globally, the halal economy is estimated at USD 2.3 trillion, excluding Islamic finance. It is growing at an annual rate of around 20 per cent, making it one of the fastest-expanding consumer markets in the world, valued at about USD 560 billion each year. The halal industry, initially rooted in food and beverages, has long transcended its traditional boundaries. It now spans pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, health products, toiletries, medical devices, and even service sectors such as logistics, marketing, media, packaging, branding, and finance. With rising affluence and awareness among global consumers, it has further extended to halal tourism, hospitality, fashion, and lifestyle services.

This development is not driven by Muslims alone. Indeed, the modern halal market is non-exclusive. Increasingly, non-Muslim consumers associate halal with ethical consumerism, animal welfare, environmental stewardship, and quality assurance. The label “halal” has evolved into a global mark of trust, symbolising cleanliness, safety, and ethical production.

Countries far removed from Islam, such as the United States, the Netherlands, Russia, China, and South Africa, are already major players in the halal economy. In the United States, the halal market is worth USD 12 billion annually, with halal food sales growing by more than 70 per cent since 1995. Over 90 per cent of U.S. dry dairy ingredient manufacturers now produce halal products, primarily for export.

In the Netherlands, where Muslims are barely a tenth of the population, non-Muslim Dutch consumers spend approximately USD 3 billion annually on halal food. In the United Kingdom, six million people consume halal meat, three times the Muslim population. These figures prove one thing: halal has gone mainstream. Even Russia is experiencing explosive growth in its halal sector, with domestic demand rising by 30-40 per cent annually. The country now produces around 65,000 tonnes of halal meat each year and hosts major expos such as the Moscow Halal Expo and KazanHalal.

China, with its 23 million Muslims, records 10 per cent annual growth in its halal industry, with trade worth USD 2.1 billion and export products valued at USD 10 million annually from the Ningxia region alone.

Africa, too, is awakening to this opportunity. South Africa—with only two per cent of its population being Muslim—is now one of the five largest producers of halal products globally, thanks to a robust certification infrastructure. Kenya, with a fast-growing halal certification regime, already has more than 150 certified companies serving local and regional markets.

Nigeria, with its vast agricultural resources, strategic location, and large Muslim population, stands at the crossroads of opportunity. The halal economy offers three immediate advantages:

1. Export Expansion: By developing credible halal certification and production infrastructure, Nigeria can unlock access to markets worth over USD 2 trillion, exporting beef, poultry, processed foods, cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, and other halal-compliant goods. Nigerian products can enter Middle Eastern and Asian markets that strictly demand halal certification.

2. Job Creation and SME Growth: The halal economy stimulates employment across value chains—from farm to factory, logistics, certification, branding, and export marketing. It empowers micro and small enterprises while ensuring compliance with ethical standards that appeal to both local and international consumers.

3. National Image and Ethical Standards: Halal certification ensures higher hygiene, traceability, and environmental protection. It is compatible with international standards like ISO and HACCP, thereby enhancing Nigeria’s global competitiveness. In essence, promoting halal is promoting quality, sustainability, and integrity—values that no religion should reject.

The critics who fear the halal roadmap as a step toward Islamisation fail to recognise that halal is an economic term before it is a theological one in this context. It stands for what is wholesome, safe, clean, traceable, and socially responsible. These values are not confined to Islam. They are embedded in Christianity, Judaism, and secular ethics alike.

The halal economy represents a fusion of faith and fairness, ethics and enterprise. It provides a model for a more responsible economic system—precisely the kind of moral economy the world craves in the aftermath of global financial and environmental crises.

When the debate over Islamic banking first arose, the same fear-mongering dominated the headlines. Yet, today, Islamic finance has built roads, schools, and hospitals across Nigeria through Sukuk and other Shari’ah-compliant financing. Christian engineers, contractors, and civil servants have benefitted immensely. The country’s Christian-majority states have received as much as the Muslim ones. No mosque was built, no church destroyed, and no constitution rewritten.

If Islamic banking did not Islamise Nigeria, how will halal exports do so? On the contrary, the halal economy promises to diversify Nigeria’s trade, create jobs, enhance foreign exchange earnings, and promote industrial standards that protect all consumers, Muslims and non-Muslims alike.

Nigeria cannot afford to watch from the sidelines while other nations—Christian, secular, and atheist alike—harvest the fruits of the halal economy. The world is shifting toward ethical consumption, sustainability, and traceable production. The halal brand, far from being divisive, is a passport to global markets.

The Nigeria National Halal Economy Strategy is not about religion; it is about relevance. It is about integrating Nigeria into the trillion-dollar value chain that prizes quality, fairness, and responsibility. Those who see crisis where there is opportunity risk being on the wrong side of history, just as those who once opposed Islamic banking and finance, now benefit from Sukuk-financed roads.

The celebration of the halal economy is not the planting of tomorrow’s crisis; it is the harvest of tomorrow’s prosperity for every Nigerian, regardless of faith. It is time we remove the caps of emotion and prejudice and wear the lenses of reason, tolerance, and progress. Nigeria must embrace every opportunity that promises shared prosperity, job creation, and national development. The halal economy is not about division—it is about direction. It is about placing our nation on the map of global relevance, productivity, and ethical growth. So help us God. 

Amir Lamido wrote from Abuja via lamidomabudi@gmail.com.

By Ibraheem A. Waziri

My essay, Against Shaykh Masussuka: A Qur’anic Case for the Reliability of Hadith, stirred more interest than I anticipated. While many readers agreed with my central thesis, a number of them raised a pointed concern: why did I not address what is often called the “Hadith problem”? By this, they meant those reports that, at first glance, appear to contradict the Qur’an, or else propose rulings not congruent with Islam’s basic principles. Some go further, suggesting that certain hadiths diminish the Prophet’s sanctity or undermine the very values the Qur’an upholds. Others, from the opposite direction, are said to elevate hadith to a position of near-supremacy over the Qur’an itself, much as common law sometimes treats judicial interpretation as weightier than the statute it interprets.

To my mind, the reason I did not write directly about this so-called “Hadith problem”, but instead focused on why we must agree primarily on the existence of hadith as a legitimate vehicle for obtaining the correct principles of the deen, is simple: the problem is not new. No community, secular or religious, has documented and curated its tradition more carefully, rationally, and continuously than Muslims have with hadith. As such, Muslim scholarship has wrestled with these questions beautifully and intellectually more than a millennium ago. Much of what trends today on social media is only an echo of debates settled centuries earlier. My earlier essay, The Eternal Quartet: Understanding the Hadith Debate in Northern Nigeria, already sketched how the primary Sunni schools, both juridical and theological, addressed questions of hadith authenticity and authority. The framework they produced is so robust that it continues to guide our practice today.

The Method, Not the Myth

When a hadith seems to contradict the Qur’an, the real issue is not substance but method. Classical scholars approached every report through layers of scrutiny. First came the isnād: if a report’s chain of transmission was weak or fabricated, the discussion ended there. Second was Qur’anic alignment: no solitary report could overturn what the Qur’an had decisively established. Third was the Prophet’s sanctity: any report that appeared to impugn his character was re-read against the sīrah and the Qur’an’s testimony to his moral standing. Fourth came the tools of uṣūl al-fiqh: harmonising general and particular, weighing abrogation only with proof, and applying great maxims such as no harm and no reciprocating harm. Finally, scholars asked about context: to whom did the Prophet speak, in what situation, with what effective cause?

Regarding the sanctity of the Prophet of Islam, a deeper interpretation even suggests that each authentic hadith that seems to cross the Prophet’s moral standing should be understood as teaching something different, excluding the Prophet himself, even if he appears as the reference point. For example, the authentic hadith that says the Prophet’s parents are in Hell should not be read as condemning them personally, but as teaching that whoever dies in disbelief faces that fate. Likewise, the hadith of Umm Haram is not to be taken as evidence of inappropriate closeness but as a lesson on boundaries with one’s mahrams.

This is why many supposed contradictions dissolve under discipline. A hadith regulating a temporary abuse does not become a timeless principle. A narration that seems to permit harm is reined in by the Prophet’s own maxim forbidding it. The method resolves what appears chaotic.

Qur’an First, Sunnah Beside

Another anxiety is the claim that the hadith has been placed above the Qur’an. But this is more perception than reality. The Qur’an is always first in rank. The Sunnah explains and operationalises it. The Qur’an itself gives the Prophet that mandate: “We revealed to you the Reminder so that you may explain to people what was sent down to them” (16:44). It calls him “an excellent example” (33:21), insists that “whoever obeys the Messenger has obeyed Allah” (4:80), and commands: “Whatever the Messenger gives you, take it; whatever he forbids you, abstain” (59:7). These verses do not set up rivalry between Qur’an and Sunnah but complementarity. To say the Sunnah explains the Qur’an is no more than to rank it higher than to say a manual outranks the constitution. Both are necessary, each in its domain.

The Eternal Quartet

Why, then, do sincere scholars differ? Because difference is built into the system. Sunni Islam produced four major theological orientations — Muʿtazilī, Ashʿarī, Māturīdī, and Atharī — and paired them with four juridical schools — Ḥanafī, Mālikī, Shāfiʿī, and Ḥanbalī. This “eternal quartet” explains why equally devout scholars may reach different conclusions about solitary reports, analogy, or custom. Some demand mutawātir reports for theology, others accept sound solitary ones. Some lean on the practice of Madina, others on text alone. Yet all remain within the same qibla.

This plurality is not a weakness but a civilisational strength. No other intellectual tradition has institutionalised difference in this way while maintaining unity. Where others splintered, Islam built a square strong enough to hold its four corners together.

Empires on the Quartet

These paradigms sustained real societies. The early ʿAbbāsid caliphate ran on a Ḥanafī–Muʿtazilī synthesis during the miḥna era. The Seljuks, Timurids, Mughals, and Ottomans all thrived on Ḥanafī–Māturīdī orthodoxy, the Ottomans for nearly seven centuries. Across the Maghrib and the Sahel, Mālikī fiqh and Ashʿarī creed underpinned the Almoravids, the Marīnids, the Songhay under Askia Muhammad, and the Sokoto Caliphate. The Shāfiʿī–Ashʿarī pairing defined the Ayyūbids and Mamlūks in Egypt, spread to Yemen and the Horn of Africa, and later carried Islam to Aceh and Malacca. Meanwhile, Atharī–Ḥanbalī frameworks underpinned the First and Second Saudi states and continue to inform the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia today.

No other religious-intellectual system has produced such enduring political architectures across continents and centuries.

Survival Through Shock

Even more impressive is how these paradigms survived colonial disruption. Islamic institutions such as awqāf, market regulation, and family law provided continuity, enabling Muslim societies to withstand conquest and modern upheaval. The frameworks built centuries ago still help communities navigate modernity.

Take finance: much of today’s Islamic banking rests on Ḥanafī tools such as istiḥsān (juristic preference), ḥiyal (legal stratagems), and the use of custom. Mālikī reliance on maṣlaḥa (public good) grounds policy and governance contributions. What looks like accommodation is, in truth, tradition applying timeless principles to new realities.

Nigeria’s Sahelian Inheritance

Closer to home, Nigeria’s Muslim communities have drawn heavily on this inheritance. The Sahelian empires were governed through Mālikī fiqh and Ashʿarī creed. These frameworks enabled our communities to transition into the modern Nigerian state without collapse. Resident colonial and post-colonial scholars such as Shaykh Abubakar Mahmud Gumi, drawing on Mālikī usūl, issued fatwas that justified the abolition of slavery, the acceptance of modern banking, the embrace of Western education, and participation in political, military, and democratic institutions. His rulings were not departures but faithful applications of classical principles to new circumstances.

What To Do With a Troubling Hadith

Still, an ordinary believer may encounter a hadith that feels alien or offensive. The tradition offers a compass:

1. Verify authenticity, for many reports are weak or fabricated.

2. Read it alongside the Qur’an’s universals of justice, mercy, and tawḥīd.

3. Ask which domain it addresses: creed, law, or character, each with its own thresholds.

4. Probe its context: was it aimed at a specific abuse?

5. If two sound readings remain, prefer the one that safeguards the Prophet’s dignity and the Qur’an’s objectives.

That preference is not modern softness but classical orthodoxy.

 Continuity, Not Collapse

The so-called “Hadith problem” is not an unsolved crisis but a well-worked conversation. Classical Islam built methods strong enough to filter and contextualise reports, intellectual diversity broad enough to hold multiple paradigms, and social institutions durable enough to withstand colonial dislocation. Today, as Muslim societies grapple with modern institutions, these frameworks continue to guide us.

To imagine that the hadith undermines the Qur’an is to misread the tradition. To treat hadith as above the Qur’an is equally mistaken. The truth lies in the system: Qur’an as charter, Sunnah as manual, and juristic tools as governance.

The Messenger is trustworthy. The methods used to preserve his words are reliable. Our task is not to discard them under modern doubt, nor to exalt them beyond their station, but to apply them with the seriousness that once gave our civilisations their strength.

Ibraheem A. Waziri wrote from Zaria. He can be reached via iawaziri@gmail.com.

By Tijjani Muhammad Musa

Many atheists, agnostics, freethinkers and others like them, their biggest tool of argument is to demand real, empirical evidence to show them of Allah’s Existence. Challenging any who believes in Allah as the Creator of the universe to give them something they can see, possibly touch, as a vital criterion or condition, not just for them to acknowledge God’s Existence, but also for them to accept Islam or any other religion, for that matter.

Many scholars would engage them in deep scholarly discussions, citing all kinds of examples and pointing to various creations and phenomena, both physical and abstract, to depict Allah SWT’s presence. Still, the atheists would bring up counter-submissions to keep themselves on their side of the argument. And on several occasions would reject all efforts to prove to them, through logic and reasoning, the existence of a Supreme Creator and Being as the architect of man’s existence.

One of such encounters had the atheist explaining away the Quran as nothing ingenious or miraculous beyond the Arabs’ known prowess for poetry, memorisation and oral transfer of information from generation to generation. Thereby negating and dismissing a fundamental point to note about the man through which the contents of the book were revealed. 

Prophet Muhammad SAWS in himself is the ultimate, undeniable, physical evidence of Allah’s existence to any who doubts that. For the duration of his life in Arabia, in the 6th century and beyond, his prophethood stands to show any denier of God’s existence (atheists, etc) that he was not on his own, but had someone behind his doings. And who is that? Muhammad SAWS gave all the answers; Allah Subhanahu Wa Ta’ala (SWT)

Actually, I’m not pointing at the poetic eloquence, memorisation capacity or storytelling prowess of the Arabs, because the Rasool SAWS was not a poet, nor the Quran a story book and his mission was not just for the Arabs, but drawing our attention to the inability of the Prophet SAWS to read or write. He was al-ummiy. That singular fact is enough to prove to anybody that the source of all his information in the Quran must be someone or something or from somewhere beyond all human dimensional existence.

And, being truthful, he did put forward the claim that he is a messenger from God (Allah) Almighty. Sent with a divine creed, a book, which he kept track of its revealed verses, in bits and pieces, verses by verses, paragraphs by paragraphs, chapters by chapters (114 of them) for 23 whole years. An ILLITERATE! That in itself is way beyond comprehension, even for a genius who was engaged in all facets of daily human activities

And again the CONTENTS of the Quran, in various fields of knowledge from within and outside of man, from within and outside the earth, from our atmosphere into outer space, from how the earth formed to its sustainance, from atoms to fingerprints, to insects, to animals, their anatomy and much more.

On the scientific knowledge front in biology, embryology, geography, medicine, physics, mathematics, aviation, space travel, oceanography, agriculture, sociology, drone war, moral ethics, future predictions, relativity of time, communication, etc. A person, uneducated or taught or discipled by any human, cannot produce such a vast amount or array of knowledge in an era when research and documentation were virtually non-existent amongst his people. It’s simply IMPOSSIBLE!

Again, consider his predictions about the advent of Ad-Dajjal, the computer, the internet, AI, the digitalisation of life, and much more. Information science knows next to nothing about. Only through trial and error does science stumble upon one small piece of knowledge after another, confessing to not knowing anything about virtually everything. A case of the blind walking in the dark, searching for something he knows not of. Even with light, only what he stumbles upon will he show.

There’s even a security code woven into the structure of the book’s contents, using the odd number 19 to mathematically safeguard the revelation from ever being corrupted, from the time of the Messenger till the end of time. Again, the book presents a challenge for anyone to bring a chapter like one in the book; if there’s any doubt about its source being from Allah! No one has yet met up. Yet, atheists will keep hyping science this, science that. What does science know? Almost nothing compared to what’s contained in the Quran, wAllahi.

How can all that knowledge across various aspects of human endeavours come from someone who was unlettered, only to be proven correct by science over the past 1400+ years and to this day? Who dares to claim such a feat, such a possibility? A man who could not differentiate A from Z or 1 to 10? Yet Muhammad SAWS attributed it all to whom? Not to himself, but to Allah SWT alone. Now, ask yourself, why would he do that? Still, some people will come and say that because they cannot see God, then He AWJ does not exist.

What more? The proof of his prophethood, THE HOLY QURAN, is here for all to see, touch, read, challenge, debunk and more for its authenticity. The Rasool didn’t say it was his making, but that it was Allah SWT’s revealed verses. And just because you want to be what… You choose to dismiss such living proof that its author is non-existent!? Aren’t atheists amazing? They have always wanted physical proof and evidence of Allah AWJ’s existence. Well, then, Prophet Muhammad SAWS is it, for one. Even if they have never seen him, at least they have heard of him. 

And if that’s not good enough for any, the Holy QURAN didn’t just fall from the sky, right? How did it come into existence, out of the blue or from an abracadabra spell?

Tijjani M. M. wrote from Kano, Nigeria.

By Muhammad Abubakar

The 207th monthly seminar of the International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT), Nigeria Office, Kano, was held on Sunday, October 26, 2025, featuring a thought-provoking paper titled “Belief and Doubt: Understanding the Rise of Atheism among Muslim Youth in Northern Nigeria.” The paper was presented by Dr Aliyu Alhaji Rabiu of Gombe State University.

Although attendance at the seminar was modest, the session drew keen interest from both onsite participants and others who joined virtually via Zoom. 

The presentation examined the growing trend of atheism among Muslim youth in Northern Nigeria, exploring its historical roots, contemporary drivers, and the challenges it poses to Islamic identity.

The paper generated lively engagement during the question-and-answer session, where participants raised critical theological and social questions. The session chairman, Dr Ibrahim Ilyasu Adam, and other discussants commended the presenter for addressing a sensitive yet timely subject with intellectual depth and clarity.

The IIIT monthly seminar series continues to provide an important forum for reflective discussion and scholarly exchange on issues shaping Muslim thought and society.

By Uzair Adam 

The Kano State Hisbah Board has apprehended at least 25 persons for allegedly organising a same-sex marriage in the Hotoro area of Kano metropolis.

Deputy Commander of the Board, Dr Mujahedeen Aminudeen, confirmed the arrest in a statement made available to The Daily Reality on Sunday.

He said the suspects—18 males and seven females—were arrested at the Fatima Event Centre along Hotoro Bypass on Saturday.

“Today, Saturday, 25th October 2025, we received a report that some individuals were allegedly organising a same-sex marriage. 

“Our personnel immediately stormed the Fatima Event Centre, the venue of the illegal gathering, and successfully arrested 25 persons,” Aminudeen stated.

He added that the suspects, including the alleged groom, were from different parts of the state, such as Sheka, Yar Gaya, and Kofar Nassarawa.

Aminudeen cautioned that the Board would not tolerate any act capable of undermining the moral values of Kano State.

“We are calling on members of the public to support the Hisbah Board by reporting immoral activities across the state. 

“The Board will continue to clamp down on such gatherings that promote immorality,” he said.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

The Swiss Federal Council has ruled out introducing a nationwide ban on schoolgirls wearing the hijab in public schools, stating that existing laws sufficiently regulate issues of participation and equality in education.

In a statement issued this week, the Council emphasized that current legal frameworks already ensure that all students, regardless of religion or cultural background, take part fully in lessons, sports, and swimming classes. It added that individual cantons retain authority over education policies, including dress codes in schools.

The decision follows ongoing debates in several European countries over the wearing of religious symbols in public institutions. Swiss authorities reaffirmed their commitment to freedom of religion and expression while maintaining that integration and participation remain key priorities in the education system.

By Kamal Alkasim

As I embark on writing about the history of our community, I am compelled to share the remarkable story of Sheikh Lawan Makama. His life’s work has had a profound impact on thousands of students, including myself, through his tireless dedication to teaching the Qur’an and founding a prestigious Islamic college.

We affectionately called him ‘Baban Makaranta’ (Father of the School) because of his unwavering presence and guidance. He would often be seen at the school, writing on the Allo (wooden slate) for students, mentoring teachers, and caring for us like a father.

When I spoke to one of my teachers and his son, Shehu Lawan Makama, about his father’s legacy, he shared a profound insight: ‘In our family tradition, every child is expected to teach in school before pursuing any business venture.’ This legacy lives on through the Ma’ahad Sheikh Lawan Makama, a renowned college for Qur’anic studies in our community, Kofar-Ruwa.

The college offers a comprehensive curriculum, with morning and afternoon sessions focused on Qur’anic studies, followed by evening classes on Hadith and Islamic theology. The quality of education in our community is a testament to the excellence of his school. Sheikh Lawan Makama’s impact extends beyond the classroom, as his commitment to community service has left an indelible mark on our society.

Sheikh Lawan Makama’s contributions to community services were multifaceted. His children would often lead Islamic events, including Ramadan prayers in various mosques. As students, we would attend school during the day and participate in community services in the evenings.

Growing up in a family that values the Qur’an, I had the privilege of attending many of these events. Sheikh Lawan Makama instilled in us strong moral values and good habits, emphasizing the importance of integrity and character. His reputation was such that if someone from his school misbehaved, the community would say, “This isn’t the habit of Sheikh Lawan Makama’s students.” His legacy is built on the principles of good character, and those who know him can attest to this.

Sheikh Lawan Makama’s family reflects his commitment to the Qur’an. All 16 of his children are Qur’an reciters, and thousands of students have memorized the Qur’an through his school. The students who lived in his house were treated like family members, receiving food, clothing, and care. One of my classmates shared that they felt no difference between themselves and Sheikh Lawan Makama’s biological children.

As someone who values documenting history, I aim to preserve Sheikh Lawan Makama’s legacy accurately, ensuring that future generations can learn from his remarkable life and contributions. May God bless him with knowledge, wisdom, and eternal peace.

Kamal Alkasim wrote from Kano, via kamalalkasim17@gmail.com.

By Ibraheem A. Waziri

(My other essay, Against The Hadith Problem, discussed how Muslim empires in the past lived on a quartet of paradigms produced through the synthesis between the Qur’an, the body of Hadith, and reason. That provoked questions regarding the future of Muslim societies and states, hence these reflections and projections into 2075.)

It is 2075, and the world I walk through feels at once strange and familiar. The glass towers still gleam, drones still hum, algorithms still rule, yet beneath the circuitry there is a slower pulse: the rhythm of old fiqh and older faith.

For all our talk half a century ago of a secular age, the present belongs to hybridity. Constitutions speak the language of the Qur’an without calling it revelation. Western democracies borrow the moral grammar of Medina without feeling conquered. The four old schools of law (Mālikī, Shāfiʿī, Ḥanafī and Ḥanbalī) and the three great theologies (Ashʿarī, Māturīdī and Atharī) are no longer museum exhibits. They are living systems quietly moderating the noise of modernity.

West Africa: The Mālikī Republics

I began this journey in Abuja. The city has doubled in size, but its heart beats in rhythm with the Mālikī canon. In the courthouse, digital panels display sections from Mukhtaṣar Khalīl beside constitutional clauses. When a judge calculates inheritance shares, the algorithm he uses is Mālikī too: transparent, fair and incorruptible.

Even non-Muslim states around the Sahel now use these formulas. Ghana’s civil code borrows Mālikī inheritance rules, while Benin’s marriage registry follows the Islamic ʿaqd nikāḥ (marital contract) model because it ensures equity and consent better than the older colonial templates.

Banking has gone moral. Nigeria’s hybrid finance sector runs on maṣlaḥa-based smart contracts, while interest systems survive only in history syllabi. The ulama sit on the Council of Moral Economies, auditing state budgets for ethical imbalance. “Sharia,” an elderly economist told me, “is not our government; it is our conscience.”

Arabia: The Neo-Atharī Technocracy

From the Sahel, I flew east to Riyadh. The skyline looks like circuitry: solar glass towers, sky bridges humming with data. The Atharī–Hanbalī paradigm still shapes law, but it is encoded now in a literal sense. Hanbalī jurists work with AI engineers who have trained “Hadith logic engines” to map rulings from canonical texts.

The constitution speaks of dual sovereignty: divine law for the moral order, human law for function. A court clerk showed me how every regulatory draft is first run through an algorithm trained on Ibn Ḥanbal and Ibn Taymiyyah, then reviewed by human jurists.

Even cinema has turned pious. Historical dramas about early scholars play in multiplexes. Young Saudis quote Ibn Ḥanbal as easily as they quote quantum code. The result is not rigidity but confidence. They see tradition not as a wall but as a coordinate system for the future.

Southeast Asia: The Shāfiʿī–Ashʿarī Democracy

Jakarta feels like the world’s conscience. The call to prayer threads through a metropolis of electric trams and vertical gardens. The parliament convenes only after the Majlis al-Maqāṣid, the Council of Objectives, certifies that each bill meets four of Sharia’s six ethical aims: life, intellect, property, faith, lineage and justice.

This “maqāṣid democracy” has become the envy of the developing world. Corruption is rare because legislation itself is filtered through moral metrics. University students still memorise al-Nawawī and al-Ghazālī, but they also code in Python and quote maqāṣid theory in debates on climate law.

Shāfiʿī jurisprudence has not stifled freedom; it has disciplined it. A new civic pride glows here. Islam and democracy are no longer hyphenated; they are married.

Ankara: The Ḥanafī–Māturīdī Continuum

And then there is Turkey, the quiet custodian of the Ottoman inheritance. Its universities still teach Māturīdī theology as the bridge between revelation and rationalism. The state calls itself secular, yet its courts and social policy breathe Ḥanafī air.

In 2075, the High Directorate of Moral Logic, a successor to the old Diyanet, reviews every national reform for philosophical balance: does it protect reason (aql) and faith (īmān) equally? The framework is pure Māturīdī.

Turkey’s digital constitution, ratified in 2060, encodes “Ḥanafī modularity,” a principle allowing law to flex with circumstance. The same logic shapes its AI governance, its family law, and even its diplomacy.

From Istanbul outward, this Ḥanafī–Māturīdī ethos has spilt into Central Asia and the Indian subcontinent. Uzbekistan’s civic schools teach both Avicenna and al-Māturīdī. Pakistani fintech startups run on ḥiyal-based smart contracts. The Ottoman blend of faith and rational statecraft has found its second life in circuitry and policy code.

Europe: The Mālikī Renaissance

In Paris, I walked past a law office advertising “Islamic Equity Contracts.” Mālikī inheritance rules, once exotic, are now embedded in the French civil code for their mathematical clarity. Every December, the city hosts La Nuit des Saints, honouring figures from both faiths such as ʿAbd al-Qādir al-Jazāʾirī, Rābiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya and Francis of Assisi. The night ends with poetry readings under the Louvre’s glass dome.

Across the Channel, the United Kingdom has normalised Sharia arbitration. The Hanafi–Maturidi tradition, brought long ago by South Asian immigrants, is now part of national legal pluralism. Judges quote Abū Ḥanīfa in footnotes. Friday sermons mingle Qur’an with Shakespeare, and the term Anglo-Muslim has lost its hyphen; it has become a cultural fact.

The Global Drift Towards Muslim Norms

What surprises me most in 2075 is not conversion, though that too has surged, but imitation. The world has adopted Muslim social standards almost unconsciously.

The ʿaqd nikāḥ, once seen as a religious marriage, is now the global model for civil unions, prized for its symmetry and consent clauses. UN inheritance reforms draw on Mālikī logic for equitable estate division. Even secular citizens in Europe and East Asia now choose contracts modelled after fiqh because they feel fairer, cleaner and more human.

Reverence for saintly figures, long dismissed as superstition, has made a comeback. Shrines to al-Ghazālī, Rūmī, Ibn ʿArabī and even non-Muslim sages now form a new “pilgrim’s circuit of wisdom.” Modern psychology calls it “ancestral grounding.” We simply call it barakah.

As for conversions, some call them reversions; they grow yearly. Not by the sword of argument, but by exhaustion. People wanted meaning, proportion and discipline. They found it in Islam’s cadence: prayer as pause, zakat as fairness, fasting as freedom from appetite. In Europe, nearly one in five now identifies as Muslim or Muslim-shaped; in North America, one in ten. Many of them began not with belief but with admiration for the order that belief produced.

The Entangled Civilisation

By 2075, no state is purely Islamic or Western. The categories have dissolved.

The UN’s Council on Civilisational Ethics opens its sessions with verses from the Qur’an alongside Kantian aphorisms. Global digital charters cite ʿadl, justice, as their guiding principle. Algorithms that allocate water or distribute vaccines carry lines of fiqh-based code to ensure fairness.

The old paradigms have not conquered the world; they have simply proven indispensable. Mālikī–Ashʿarī, Shāfiʿī–Ashʿarī, Ḥanafī–Māturīdī and Ḥanbalī–Atharī each remain alive, shaping ethics, finance, law and art. Their jurists now sit on international boards beside secular philosophers, arguing about AI morality and interplanetary law. The conversation is no longer between faith and reason, but between kinds of reason.

A Closing Reflection

As I write this letter from a café in Fez, the call to prayer blends with the hum of an electric tram. A group of students nearby, Muslim, Christian and atheist, argue over a verse from the Qur’an, not as a theological claim but as a piece of political philosophy. The verse speaks of balance: “We made you a middle community.”

Perhaps that is what we have become by 2075: a middle community for a weary planet. The Western world brought machinery; Islam preserved measure. Together they built a civilisation that still argues, still hopes and still prays. The paradigms the world once thought ancient turned out to be the most modern of all.

By Uzair Adam 

Bayero University, Kano (BUK), on Tuesday hosted a landmark conference organised by the Faculty of History and Development Studies, exploring the historical and contemporary roles of ulama in Nigerian politics. 

The event, themed “Ulama and Politics in Nigeria: Historical Perspectives,” attracted scholars, politicians, and religious leaders from across the country.

Professor Muhammad Wada, Dean of the Faculty of History and Development Studies at the university, explained that the central mission of the conference is to highlight the pivotal role of ulama—Islamic scholars—in societal development. 

He stated that, “Over the years, through our research, we realised that ulama have played and continue to play an important role in various spheres of life, including politics and economics. 

“This conference seeks to address widespread misconceptions about whether it is legitimate for ulama to be involved in politics,” Professor Wada added.

He further stated that the conference has received hundreds of abstracts from scholars of various fields, demonstrating the broad relevance of the topic. 

“Historically, ulama have contributed to societal development, and they remain capable of doing so today. 

“Their role goes beyond leading prayers or teaching religion; it extends to guiding the public in political and civic matters,” Professor Wada emphasised.

Professor Sani Umar, one of the keynote speakers, described the conference as “highly enriching and a model that should be held regularly to sensitise ulama and the public alike.” 

He stressed that the discussions are not only relevant to Muslims but also to followers of other faiths, promoting mutual understanding and peaceful coexistence. 

Umar further explained that the widespread perception that ulama should avoid politics is misguided, noting that true politics involves leadership, compassion, and care for the vulnerable—qualities inherent in the work of scholars.

Speaking on the occasion, Sheikh Ibrahim Khalil, Chairman of the Council of Ulama, urged the public to recognise that politics is for everyone and that ulama, given their knowledge and moral grounding, are particularly well-suited to political engagement. 

He called for more frequent conferences of this kind, at least twice or three times a year, and appealed to media professionals to disseminate these messages widely, including via social media.

The conference drew participation from ulama representing various Islamic sects, academics, and politicians, including Sule Lamido, the former Governor of Jigawa State. 

Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf, represented by Professor Tijjani Muhammad, also attended, highlighting the significance of the event for both scholarship and governance.

The two-day conference will continue tomorrow with plenary sessions, providing a platform for rigorous discussion on the contributions of ulama to Nigerian society and politics.