It was at this time, my freshman year in high school that I declared I would never go to church again. I saw it as stupid and pointless. I didn’t feel comfortable there. Instead it felt like I was in a theatre and the minister, my friend, was on stage. If he performed well, he’d get paid and keep the seats filled. If he didn’t, his fate would resemble the two before him.

As if almost by fate, I first became aware of the religion called Islam. I had a friend in my English class who was a Muslim. After all this time, this was the first time I had come in contact with a Muslim. He mostly talked about the things that Muslims did. I listened, but I really didn’t show much interest in it. He never really said what their beliefs were, and I never asked. At age 15 I met another guy who was just a militant as I, if not more. I’ll call him MC. MC was the first person to ever tell me how bad pork really was. My mother, raised in the south, naturally cooked a lot of it. We had bacon, ham, sausage, hot-dogs, ribs, and she even ate chitterlings (pig intestines). It didn’t take long for me to give up pork totally. I realised how damaging it could be to my health, but I also realised something deeper. So many black people eat pork because it was the meat that white slave masters didn’t want, so they gave the scraps to the black slaves. It became a regular food for our culture. It is no wonder that black people have a higher rate of heart attacks and high blood pressure than whites.

When I read deeper beneath the surface, MC helped me also realise that the Bible actually said that people were forbidden from eating the flesh of swine. Furthermore, other things, such as alcohol, fornication, adultery and gambling were also forbidden, yet many Christians did it anyway. Luckily, I had never done any of that stuff. My parents and my early Noah’s Ark teachers had told me not to do that. That, however, did not necessarily apply to them.

At age 16, I began to feel totally betrayed by everyone, even Jesus (peace be upon him). Everything, if anything, that ever appealed to me about Christianity had been yanked out from under me by the realities of my society. The more I look back and think about it, the more I understand. I never stopped believing in God, I just didn’t believe in all the extra things others associated with God. All my life I had just prayed to God. I truthfully rarely thought or even cared about Jesus. We were supposed to live our lives like him, but all I ever heard about his life were miracles. How are we to perform miracles? It seemed contradictory. I then began to look for something else. Jews had never been on good terms with African Americans, so I never really looked towards that. There was a group of Black Jews who believed that the actual children of Israel are African Americans. We have been here for 400 years, but many of the things they said seemed distant and unrealistic if not totally unimportant.

The more I thought the more curiosity that arose in me about Islam. Many images had been placed before me about Muslims being terrorists and oppressing women, etc. I, however, had seen and lived real oppression. I had witnessed terrorism, and I knew that the things the Muslims I saw were doing were not bad. If anything, they were better than what I saw Christians doing.

Based on this principle, I began to read about Islam. I’m not really sure what I read first. I read many articles about Muslim men and women. The articles touched me. One in particular which I still have today called, “Converts to the Faith” seemed to fit my situation exactly. It was then that I decided to buy a (copy of the) Qur’ān from the bookstore. That summer I read the entire book, from front to back.

It shocked me vividly. I had long been taught all of these miracles of Jesus and mystical things such as Santa Claus, but the Qur’ān had a sense of humanity about it. It seemed like a book that was meant to be read by human beings, not supernatural beings. It plainly said the rules and ways of living that all people should uphold. It was common sense. It was what everybody seemed to know but unconsciously denied it. For some time it was all I needed. I did nothing more than read parts over and over again, trying to understand every part. It all made sense. There were no contradictions. God was but one God, Allah. It stressed showing compassion for the poor and the brotherhood of Muslims. For a long time, I didn’t even let anyone know I had bought it.

The only reason I had waited until when I did was because I had learned to drive. That way no one would know I was considering this.

For a long time I wondered what my mother would think if I became a Muslim. So, I did nothing for a little longer. I continued to pray as I always had: head bowed praying to my One God, only now I called that God, Allah. I was already a Muslim at heart. I watched a lot of TV shows and read a lot of books on Islam that year. Naturally, my mother became aware of the pattern. I don’t know how much she knew about Islam, so it probably scared her. My father, who had since moved out when my parents got divorced, definitely seem worried that I might be getting into something bad. This was in part because my grades had not yet improved, and I was somewhat of a rebellious teenager.

I began to show some of my articles to my mother. I really didn’t show her much, and she really didn’t ask much. It was a time when I was alone by choice. My friends had either moved, died, or just gone in a different direction from I. I saw no need for them anyway. It was just me, my Qur’ān, and my thoughts.

Then, I decided I wanted more. I wanted to become a Muslim, and I couldn’t do it alone. I wanted to learn a better way to pray and glorify Allah. I wanted to learn more about Muhammad (sallahu alaiyhi wasalaam), and I wanted to meet people who believed in the book I had come to cherish.

In the summer of 1995, I started getting into the internet. It had many helpful things about Islam. The knowledge that I attained just by reading the things posted on the world wide web finally pushed me over the edge. I couldn’t deny my birth right. My parents, sister, and friends have always been supportive of me. I could only hope they would continue to do so, in spite of what I was about to do.

It was a late afternoon in September of 1995 when I began flipping through the yellow pages for something that said “Mosque”. I found two entries in the yellow pages. I called the first one and got no answer. Then, I called the second one, and the answer machine picked up giving an alternative phone number to call for help. I called the number, at this point shaking from nervousness. Many things were going through my head, “What if they don’t want to be bothered with me? What if they don’t accept me? What if I’m making the wrong decision?” I had always been a worrisome person. In fact, earlier that same year, I had worried myself into the hospital. All they could ever conclude was that my stomach was inflamed. The only thing I could do was see a Psychologist who taught me how to relax, and I adhered to a strict diet. It still happens sometimes, but it is a rare thing.

I dialed the number not knowing what to expect or who I was calling. A woman answered the phone, and just said, “Hello?” That made me think that this must be a home phone number. I told her I was interested in Islam. I expected her to seem surprised, say she didn’t care, or just say, “and….,” but she didn’t. In fact she acted as if it happened all the time. She told me her husband, the Imam, was at work, and she would have him call me. All of my foolish worrying suddenly ended. I was calm now.

Later that night, he called me, and we talked for a long time. He too had reverted some 20 years ago. It was as though he had already lived through the same things I was telling him. Not only did he understand how I thought, but it seemed like he had once had the same thought process. It is natural to question the unknown, and that’s all I had done. He invited me to Wednesday night Taleem at the Islamic Centre. Oddly enough, it was a rainy night, and no one showed up that night. When I arrived, it was just he and I in an empty building discussing faith, politics and life. After talking for at least an hour, one other person showed up, and they prayed. The first night I just watched. The second night I participated, and from that point forward, I was committed to this wonderful religion.

As I learned more about Muslims, I continued to study Islam. I started going to Arabic classes on Sundays, and I began to grow even more appreciative of the Glorious Qur’ān. About one month after the day I first stepped into the Masjid, I took the Shahadah. It was an emotional night for me. I still remember the brothers that were there to witness it, and I’m sure they remember too. Those words had so much meaning, and so much power. I may not feel that much joy and emotion again until Hajj. It was that powerful. When it was over, I went home and told everybody important to me. My mother was the first to know. She didn’t seem surprised. Instead she congratulated me as though she could feel my emotion. My father had a less emotional response, but it was equally as approved. I’m still not sure what my sister’s feelings were about it, but she never objected. In fact, my whole family kept most of their opinions to themselves. That showed me that they trusted my judgment, and they were right for doing so.

That was over one year ago when I took the Shahadah. It wasn’t long after that when I learned to do many of the obligations such as salat, wu’du, the athan, and other things. I had finally began my final journey. No longer would I turn around and go back. I knew this was a lifelong decision. Since that time, I have sometimes had to defend my decision to people, and maybe even justify my very way of life, but that hostility was often from people who were really interested but denying themselves as I had.

People have often asked me how I do it. They think Islam is hard. I tell them that after going through what it took me just to realise Islam, this religion is easy. Allah does not wish any difficulty on you. The Qur’ān puts it in the most beautiful words that I will humbly display in English, “This day have those who Reject Faith given up All hope of your religion: Yet fear them not But fear Me. This day have I Perfected your religion For you, completed My favour upon you, And have chosen for you Islam as your religion.”—sura Al-Mã’ida, ayat 3.

The road which we travel to get where we intend to go is often worn by the time we get there. I have learned that Islam is a lifetime struggle. This is the essence of Jihad. Those who strive in the Name of their Lord are those who are the righteous. It has indeed been a ride for me. When I first became dissatisfied with Christianity, I entered a tunnel that appeared to have no end. My life seemed to be headed towards a fabricated way of living. With Islam, however, came my exit. It is the light at the end of the tunnel. No longer can I say that I live in self-inflicted solitude. No longer can I say I have lived my life in darkness. No longer can I worry what will happen next. No longer can I say that I am dissatisfied. All I can say is Al-Hamdulillah (praise be to Allah).