بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَنِ الرَّحِيم
Memoirs Part 10
An interview with Sheikh
Wasiullah ‘Abbās
Sheikh Wasiullah is currently a
prominent lecturer in the sacred masjid in Makkah. He elaborates on various
books of Ḥadīth. He came from India the year I graduated, i.e. 1966. In this
conversation with him, there is a glimpse into the early days of the University
of Madīnah.
I was the one to receive them at
Jeddah airport in 1966 when he came with five Indian students. Passing through
Syyed Linjawi, the representative of the University of Jeddah, the very same
person who received us in 1962, we went to Makkah for Umrah under a light
shower from the heavens. Then I brought them back to the airport to board a
plane towards Madīnah.
My father, being a product of
Raḥmānia, Delhi and being a teacher of Ḥadīth in Banaras (Varanasi presently)
before the partition of India, was very close to our Salafi students and
teachers in India. Wasiullah was one of them who developed good relations with
our family in Madīnah. Wasiullah told me how frequently he used to visit our
house and help one of my younger brothers, Raghib (d.2014) in his studies. Raghib throughout his
childhood was a very shy and quiet lad. Although he was always shy to speak to visitors,
he excelled in his studies.
As a pre-requisite to admission, Wasiullah was
interviewed by Sheikh ‘Abdul-Moḥsin Ḥamad al-‘Abbād. He accepted some of his
group members in the higher level (Sharia’ college) and asked him whether he
was with them in the Madrasa back in India. He told him the truth that he was
behind them by two years. This led him to be admitted to a lower level
(Pre-College Secondary stage). It was a blessing for him in disguise because by
the time he graduated (two years later than his companions), post-graduate
studies had been introduced to
Jam’ia in which he was accepted as well.
By 1967 or 1968, Dr Taqiuddin al-Hilāli, a very famous
scholar from Morocco came to perform Hajj. Invited by Sheikh Ibn Bāz, he
accepted to join the teaching staff in Madīnah. He used to teach the subject of
comparative religion based upon the writings of Sheikh ‘Abdul Qādir
Shaiba-tul-Ḥamd. Sheikh al-Hilāli was very annoyed by the ill-treatment of his
son-in-law towards his daughter. He used to beat her and one day he left her
for good. Wasiullah offered to serve Sheikh al-Hilāli instead. This is how he
became very close to him. Al-Hilāli mentioned to Sheikh Ibn Bāz how Wasiullah
had come to his help when there was no one around him to serve him. Sheikh Ibn
Bāz asked al-Hilāli whether Wasiullah could be treated as an employee with a
paid salary. But Wasiullah declined this offer saying that the stipend offered
by the Jam’ia to him was enough for him.
He was very close to Sheikh Ḥammād al-Ansāri, a teacher
well versed in the science of Ḥadīth. His company helped him a lot in
deepening his knowledge of Takhrīj (i.e. the source of the
transmissions of a Ḥadīth).
He graduated from the college, completed his Masters
studies but an admission to doctoral studies was still a bridge too far. The
foreign students were not allowed to take it. Ziaur Raḥmān Al-A’zami was
allowed because of his unique position and special circumstances (see my
interview with him in the next few lines).
Eventually Wasiullah and six others were allowed to be
interviewed for the admission by Sheikh Muḥammad Amin al-Misri and his
colleagues. Because of his knowledge of Takhrij, he was able to answer
their questions easily. For example, they asked him about al-Ḥākim. He at once
retorted back by saying, “Which one do you mean? The older one or the younger
one?”. They were amazed at his knowledge. He told them that al-Ḥākim, the
compiler of ‘al-Mustadrak’ was the younger one. They also asked him how could we
know about the books of the past. He mentioned them the source book of Fu’ād Sirteel (other
than Fu’ād Sezgin who died recently in July 2018). Impressed and bewildered by
his knowledge, they told him that he would be at the top of those accepted for
the doctoral studies. He was very thankful to Allah saying that Allah blessed
him with his own transport for the past forty years since he started teaching
at the secondary level. “Was it not the blessing of Ḥadīth for which he
devoted his life?”, he exclaimed.
He mentioned a Muslim family in America. The father was a
wealthy person but found himself in a constant trial because of his son and
daughter who do not listen to him and followed their own ways. Sheikh Wasiullah
guided him to some Ḥadīth institutions in Pakistan which might suit his
children to receive the knowledge, but he never contacted him later. On the
other hand, a family from Britain approached him on how their son could
memorize the Quran. He advised them to bring their son to Makkah and let the
boy join the circles of the memorization of the Quran. He responded and he was
successful.
He told me that the Presidency of Al-Ḥaramain (Makkah
and Madīnah) intended to publicize sermons which had been delivered the
previous year at both places in English. The task to render them in English had
already been done by a young man from Canada and now they were looking for
someone to review it. He also informed
me that Sheikh ‘Abdul Wahhāb al-Banna (my mentor in the early days of the
Jam’ia) had died long ago (around 2011) survived by an older brother in Egypt.
Though I used to visit Wasiullah almost every time I came
to Makkah, but there had been a very special visit several years ago when
he took me to visit Sheikh Rabi’ al-Madkhalī at his residence at al-‘Awāli of
Makkah. It was not a pleasant conversation with him as he was surrounded by a
bunch of hateful young Britons from among his followers with an extreme
interpretation of the Salafi way; a way which has no reconciliatory approach to
other Sunni groups like Ikhwān and Jamat-e-Islami of Pakistan. His thinking or
methodology was never in line with that of Sheikh Ibn Bāz or Sheikh al-Albāni.
He was even refuted by our Sheikh ‘Abdul Moḥsin Ḥamad al-‘Abbād who wrote a
treatise entitled “Rifqan be Ahlus Sunnah” (Be kind to the people of Sunnah).
Sheikh Madkhali thinks that I have been following the way of Jamat-e-Islami
(because my father was a member of Jamat from 1941 to 1957) but he did not
realize that these were the days when I was a teenager. From 1957 to 1966, all
my learning was under Salafi scholars including those at the University of
Madīnah. Even Sheikh Wasiullah could not escape his wrath because he could not
agree with him in each and every matter.
Let me end this interview with an interesting but
meaningful story narrated to me by him in this sitting:
A family in Makkah employed a maid from the Philippines
to take care of the household. It happened that a child was born to the family
but got seriously ill and died soon. The following year a similar event
happened. A child was born and then died in a mysterious way. Even the doctors
were not able to detect the cause of death. Another maid, disclosed a terrible
secret to the family when the third child was born and fell ill like his
predecessors. She told them that their house maid was a vicious lady who did
not want to serve the little infant in the family. She used to insert a small
needle in the top of the child’s skull just after the birth to let him die a
painful death. With this secret revealed, doctors were alerted who were able to
detect the lethal weapon in the infant’s skull and save him from a sudden death.
What happened to the maid was not known but her fate was doomed.
An interview with Ziaur Raḥmān
Al-‘Azami
Born into a
Hindu family in Azam Garh, India in 1943, he studied in Shibli college at his
home town and then converted to Islam. It was a long story of trials and
tribulations for him due to his conversion to Islam. He had to move away from
his home to avoid any confrontation with his Hindu relatives So he ended up in
the famous Dār-ul-‘Uloom of ‘Omar Abad from where he graduated around 1966.
Like Sheikh
Wasiullah ‘Abbās, he came to Saudi Arabia in 1967. He was fortunate enough to
complete Sharia studies for four years in Madīnah, then two years to have a
master’s degree in Makkah until he joined Al-Azhar in Cairo from where he
achieved his doctorate in 1977. I must have seen him in around 1977 when I
started visiting Makkah to work during the Ḥajj season with “Al-Ta’iya
al-Islamia fi Al-Ḥajj” (The committee to create awareness during Ḥajj). At
that time, he was employed by Rabita (Muslim World League). Sāliḥ Al-Qazzaz
used to be the secretary general of Rabita in those days. Al-‘Azami told me
that his association with Rabita meant that he should accompany the Secretary General
in all his journeys abroad to attend international conferences whenever
required but he apologized to travel anywhere because he was busy in
accomplishing his doctoral papers entitled “Aqẓiya-tul-Nabi” (The rulings
given by the Prophet ﷺ).I remember meeting there Sheikh ‘Āsim Al-Haddad, my
teacher of Arabic in Lahore in my school days. I met him at Rabita’s old
headquarters on our way from the sacred Mosque to Al-‘Aziziyya. Al-‘Azami told
me that he lived with him in his flat before his family joined him.
During his studies in Madīnah, Dr. Taqiuddin Al-Hilali who was entrusted
with the subject of Comparative Religion used to call him at night and discuss
with him the summary of the lesson he had to deliver next morning. He said to
him, had it not been due to the regulations of the Jam’ia, he would have allowed
him to deliver the lessons instead.
He mentioned to me one of my dear colleagues in Jam’ia Madīnah, Hafeez-ul-Raḥmān
Al-‘Umary, who used to be his teacher at Dār-ul-‘Uloom, ‘Umar Abād, India, a
man of great skill; well-versed in Urdu literature and poetry. We used to
exchange our thoughts while we were on our way from Jam’ia to the city of
Madīnah in the evening. Truly speaking, he was the one who would talk a lot out
of his abounding knowledge and I was the one to listen.
Al-‘Azami told me that he was now given the task of running Dār-al-‘Uloom.
Sadly, his wife had passed away while his three daughters were all married, so
he had to pass his life alone at home. Al-‘Azami took his Ijazah in Ḥadīth,
especially in Saḥīḥ al-Bukhari and Saḥīh Muslim from two of his Shuyukh:
Sheikh Subhani and Sheikh ‘Abdul Majīd of India.
From him I knew that our Sheikh ‘Abdul Qādir Shaibat-ul-Ḥamd, the one
who taught us Bulūgh al-Marām and the subject of Comparative Religion had
passed away. So among our Shuyukh in Madīnah two are still alive: Sheikh ‘Abdul
Moḥsin Hamad Al-‘Abbād and Sheikh Abu Bakr Jābir Al-Jazairi.
Then he mentioned two of his books which were crowned with popularity
and acceptance.
The first one is the Encyclopedia of the Quran, which was first published
in the Hindi language and proved to be very beneficial and inspiring for the
Hindus in India. A Muslim lady was so motivated by its contents that she
rendered the whole work into English. Al-‘Azami wanted a review of its language
to a standard more acceptable to the English readers.
The second book is the product of a number of years after retirement
from teaching at the Islamic University of Madīnah. He started collecting all
Saḥīḩ Aḥādīth scattered in a great number of Aḥādīth collections to accommodate
them into one single book. Apart from Saḥīh Bukhari and Saḥīh Muslim, he
subjected all other Aḥādīth to his own research. Eventually he was able to
compile “Al-Kāmil” which accommodated sixteen thousand Saḥīḥ Ahādīth in
twelve volumes. Another three thousand weak Aḥādīth were also added to this
work only for distinction. He also prepared a summarized edition of this
collection in five volumes without Takhrīj. It came to my knowledge that
the book was sold like hot cakes in a short period of time, and is now in need
to be reprinted.
May Allah accept his services for the Deen of Islam and make his work an
asset for him to achieve His pleasure.
A journey to Nigeria via Kharṭūm
It must have been a few days after graduation, around July 1966 when my
name was proposed among a delegation of three students to attend a conference
at Ibadan University, Nigeria. The other two were Mohsin from the Jaizan region
and Khalid (of African origin). Both names are pseudonyms as I forgot their
actual names.
We flew from Jeddah to land in Kharṭūm, the capital of Sudan. Our stay
was in Grand Hotel, a spacious lodging from the colonial days. The only person
I knew in Sudan was Mamūn ‘Abdul Wahhāb, my colleague at Jam’ia. He told me
that he came from a small island, named as Tottee where the Blue Nile joins the
White Nile. That was the only information I got of him. So I took a boat and
landed at Tottee. It was not difficult to find his house in such a small place.
He was delighted to see an old friend but an unexpected guest. Could I imagine
that I would be meeting him again after around 46 years! Yes this is what
happened. In 2012, I had to visit Kharṭūm, as a vice-chairman of Muslim Aid,
UK to probe into some issues concerning the Sudan office.
One morning we were at the office of the Health minister where I asked
my Sudanese guide if he had come across the name of Mamūn ‘Abdul Wahhāb, a
graduate of Madīnah University. The man was keen to acquire this information.
Soon he brought the news that a man of this name had been a lecturer at the
Islamic University of Umme Durman. Necessary contacts were made and he was
informed of my desire to see him. It was another moment of pleasure when I saw
him; an old Sheikh in Sudanese traditional attire.
How strange would it be when you have in your imagination the face of a
young man, full of energy and enthusiasm compared to what you see in front of
you. He must have the same feelings about me. He remembered me and my father,
one of his teachers as well. He told me that Tottee was no more their dwelling
place. Instead they had moved to a far-off locality in the outskirts of the
town, which had spread far and wide.
Invited to a dinner, we set off in our office Jeep to his locality. The
area was still ripe with mud roads and narrow alleys. Like all eastern
traditions, we were served with our food in the reception area. We also
attended ‘Isha prayers at a spacious mosque, very much in line with the
structure of the village surroundings.
May Allah accept my kind gesture towards him and his affectionate
response towards me.
Our next stop was Lagos from where we had to take a bus provided by the
University to the city of Ibadan. It was Africa, with lush green pastures,
colorful dresses of the people, full of energy and activities, music with
drum-beatings echoing everywhere. The University itself attracted our
attention. Elegant and spacious halls with scenic surroundings, abounding with
students, both men and women, quite contrary to what we experienced in our
Jam’ia. But there was no comparison! We have been a product of a religious and
spiritual institution in one of the most sacred places in Islam. It was a model
to be followed and envied.
We were housed in some of the student’s lodging, again very different
from what we used to witness in the early days of Jam’ia, rooms with shared
residence. There were male and female students to guide us during the
deliberations of the conference. For me it was a temporary phase of few days of
my journey but it became an interesting feature of one of my travelling
comrades from Saudi Arabia. I came to know later that he was very successful in
persuading one of those attractive female guides to marry him.
We came back from Nigeria, the country of Abu Bakr Tafawa and Ahamadu Billu
with pleasant memories and with a lot of encouragement for my teaching career
awaiting me in East Africa.
Preparation for my first contractual job
It was the summer of 1966 when I set on my journey to Riyadh to be
interviewed for the post of a Da’iya (to work for an Islamic cause) in Africa.
I was fortunate to get this job just after graduation because a new scheme
which had been launched by Dār-ul-Ifta to start this type of activity in Africa
after an exhaustive effort was carried out by Sheikh Muḥammad Nāsir
Al-‘Aboodi, the then Registrar of the Jam’ia, to explore possibility of sending
delegates to some African countries for the purpose of teaching and Da’wa.
Primarily, three countries, Kenya, Uganda and Rhodesia (presently Zimbabwe)
were chosen.
Dār-ul-Ifta was located in a two storey building in Deerah, the oldest
part of Riyadh. I had to find out a temporary lodging for my stay for a few
days. An Indian student, Jawaid by name, welcomed me in his simple residence: a
room enough to accommodate one mattress only. He managed to create a wooden
floor over his head to facilitate another mattress linked through a staircase.
This is how he could host his guest in a very small place with his big heart.
It was a room in the second floor of a building erected with mud and clay like
all other houses in most streets of Deerah. For the toilet, they had left a
room at the corner of the second floor with a hole in the middle. The excretion
fell down through the hole to a room in the ground floor which was sealed by
the four walls around it. There must have been a day when an exit was created
every year, so that it could be cleaned. Jawaid had also created some shelves
on the surrounding walls to decorate them with his books and crockery. Tea
could be prepared on a stove by the mattress. For food he could use another
open space on the courtyard of his floor.
Dār-ul-Ifta was headed by Sheikh Muḥammad bin Ibrāhīm Āl-Sheikh, the
Grand Mufti of Saudi Arabia. Like Sheikh Ibn Bāz, he had to depend on his
insight (Baseerah) more than his eyesight (Basar) because he had lost it as
well. I happened to meet him once in his office and once at the mosque. Those
days I had little knowledge of his voluminous collection of Fatawa which were
out of print. Later in my life I caught sight of it in a library. It has been
remarked that it contained a good amount of advices (Naseeha) to the people in
authority
In the Dār-ul-Ifta office, I came to meet Sheikh Muḥammad bin Qa’ood,
the director of Da’wa Affairs abroad. My interview with him was short and
sweet. He himself was a cordial, lovely person. I will be saying much about him
later in my memoirs. Once the contract was signed by me as a Da’iya in Nairobi,
Kenya, I had to come back to Madīnah to prepare myself for this task. There I
also came to know the three other colleagues who had been selected for this
task:
(i) Muḥammad Ibrāhīm Khalīl to Mombasa, Kenya
(ii) Sirajul Raḥmān Nadwi to Kampala, Uganda
(iii) ‘Abdul Raḥmān Mubārakfuri to Salisbury, Rhodesia
In November 1966, I was blessed with the birth of my daughter Khola at
Madīnah, the day I received the first cheque of my humble salary. Her Aqiqa was
attended by a great number of my colleagues and teachers including ‘Abdul Qādir
Shaiba-tul-Ḥamd. Khola had been preceded by the birth of twin boys in the
previous year who did not survive
except for a few days. They were born in Karachi while I was at Madīnah. This
is why I had a vague memory of them.
It must have been early 1967, when I received a ‘go ahead’ directive
from the office to set out on my journey to Kenya. It must have been a very
emotional departure from Madīnah, the city where I spent four years of my
youth, a place where my parents, my younger brothers were still stationed. A
surprise awaited me at Jeddah airport. I with my tiny family was about to leave
the Kingdom when my older brother, Shuaib Hasan arrived there with his wife and
daughter to join Saudi Arabian airlines as an engineer. We both started a new
career in our lives though he was well ahead of me as he had previously been
working with PIA at Karachi as well. Later his abode at Jeddah had to be a
meeting point for all the members of the family, my parents from Madīnah,
myself in Nairobi, and my sister’s family in Karachi.
Saying goodbye to Jeddah, we boarded an Ethiopian Airlines aircraft
heading towards Nairobi via Asmara and Addis Ababa.
