My nephew, a young mujahid

When I see ustaz Shahul Hamid Seeni Muhammad – the dude who urged Muslims not to get haircuts in non-Muslim salons in his two-year-old YouTube video which went viral recently – I am reminded of my nephew.

Not only are they both mamak, they also happen to look very much alike, and like the infamous ustaz, my nephew too is a religious teacher and a preacher.

My nephew was born in a family who thought religion was the answer to everything. When he or his siblings fell sick, they visited religious healers for chants of Quranic verses more than they did clinics for medicine.

When it was exam season, they would take gulps of Zamzam water in the morning instead of revising the night before.

And when things got tough for the family, instead of working hard to find a rational solution, they would make special contributions to the mosque, hoping the Almighty would ease their troubles.

It may sound odd to many, but to my nephew and his family, this was the norm.

When my nephew ended his high school with less than enviable results, the family accepted it as fate, and sent him to a religious school in Sri Lanka.

He was supposed to spend a year there. That became two years, and then four. At the end of the four years, my nephew returned a 'hafiz', or someone who has completely memorised the Quran. He was just 22.

But despite his mastery of the holy book, my nephew knew very little of anything else. Thanks to his upbringing and the kind of education he received, he lived in a very different world to everyone else, which completely changed his outlook on life.

Among the first thing my nephew did upon returning to his family in Penang was to change his name to Mujahid – literally, one who strives in the path of the Almighty, or more simply, a "pejuang Islam" (warrior of Islam), as I recall him telling me donkey’s years ago.

My nephew believes that every Muslim has a responsibility to wage jihad in the name of Allah. Not doing so would mean failing the Creator, and becoming a disgrace to the religion.

With this mindset, he began preaching, starting with his own family and relatives.

"Do not colour your hair. It is sinful."

"Do not wear shorts to play football. It is sinful."

"Do not put up posters of footballers and celebrities on the wall. The angels will not step into your room if you do so."

"Do not hold on to keychains with figurines. You may end up idolising it."

"Place a cloth on your head before consuming food as a sign of respect to the blessings of Allah.”

And that was just the beginning.

My nephew then joined a few mosques and madrasah as a religious teacher. As a hafiz, he used the knowledge he obtained in Sri Lanka to educate other Muslims, young and old.

No one actually questioned him about his teachings because as far as the community was concerned, he knew more about the holy book than anyone else.

Soon my nephew joined 'tabligh' (missionary) groups, where he would spend weekends on preaching missions with a bunch of other Muslim men.

They would spread the word of Allah as per their beliefs, whatever they perceived that to be.

From going door-to-door requesting to speak to the man of the family, to spending nights in different mosques, they reached out to share their knowledge of Islam to different layers of the community.

As my nephew gained experience from his journeys, his beliefs became calcified. And the more he believed in the things he was preaching, the more things were added to his forbidden list.

At one point, he even began forbidding family members to use forks to eat noodles, let alone chopsticks, because he claimed Muslims should only eat with hands. And the dining table was abandoned during meal times, because Muslims, according to him, should sit on the floor.

I used to wonder where he got all these ideas from. I mean, it’s not like the Quran actually listed down all these dos and don’ts – I don’t think they even had chopsticks, forks, noodles, hair dyes, or keychains back them. So where did he pluck these ideas from?

I suppose that’s what happens when people believe religious knowledge is good enough to carry them throughout life without making any effort to learn about the world they live in.

My nephew got married a few years ago. His wife now wears a niqab. Together, they raise their children according to my nephew’s school of thought. And I guess those who share his worldview would do the same.

That’s how the next generation continues to carry on beliefs that make little sense to anyone else.

What saddens me is that my nephew is not the only one who believes the kind of things preached by ustaz Shahul Hamid.

I have a handful of uncles and cousins who, with their white jubah, kopiah, long beards and eyeliner, walk among us, spreading the same beliefs.

It is not my intention to bring shame to anyone by sharing this story, especially my family members.

However, while people are busy bashing the infamous YouTube preacher and his ilk, we never talk about what makes them spread such nonsense in the first place.

I believe that as long as there are Muslims who do not think worldly knowledge matters compared to religious knowledge, we will continue to hear the same nonsense from time to time, and get all worked up about it.

A wholesome education is where religion and worldly matters come together hand in hand. If this is not emphasised by parents, teachers, and the government, society will never stop producing men like ustaz Shahul Hamid and my nephew.

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FA ABDUL is a passionate storyteller, a growing media trainer, an aspiring playwright, a regular director, a struggling producer, a self-acclaimed photographer, an expert Facebooker, a lazy blogger, a part-time queen and a full-time vainpot.- Mkini