Monday 20 February 2017

My Memoirs - 5


4.  Sheikh Muhammad Abdul Wahhab Al-Banna

He was a very close friend of Sheikh Al-Albani and he was the one normally accompanying him in his car on his way to Madinah after the morning session was over. Though I did not study upon him directly as he had been a teacher in the secondary section but I enjoyed his company in many a travels. During the first year of our studies, we went with him to Makkah in the month of Ramadan. He was a man of faith and practice with a calm and impressive voice, his teachings seemed to penetrate in our hearts. He spoke on Tawhid, the character of the Prophet (SAW) and his Sunnah in Da’wa to the way of Allah. That was the first time, inspired by him that I stood in Masjid al-Jinn at Makkah after one of the prayers to deliver a short speech in Arabic to the attendants. This is how he encouraged his pupils to take courage and prepare themselves for Da’wa. He was one of my mentors who showed me that it is the good company which moulds your character more than simply reading the books. He must not be confused with the famous Sheikh Hasan al-Banna, the founder of Al-Ikhwan. They share the same surname but they had no family relations at all. I have already noted down how I had been inspired by the latter when I had the privilege, during my early days of reading Arabic, of translating his memoirs into Urdu. May Allah have mercy upon Sheikh Muhammad Abdul Wahhab Al-Banna, he died in November 2009.

5. Sheikh Abdul-Qadir Shaibat-ul-Hamd

An Egyptian who settled down in Riyadh, married locally and became one of the Najdian Shuyukh but his speech, flowery and eloquent always revealed his true identity. He was tall in stature, Saudi looking in his appearance and loud in his presentation. After Sheikh Al-Albani left Jami’a in the middle of 1963, he took over his subject: Hadith. The way he taught us is fully manifested in his ten volume book entitled “Fiqh-ul-Islam” which is an explanation of “Bulugh-ul-Maram” by Ibn Hajar. He explains the difficult words first, then an elaboration of the text with meanings and difference of opinions in the matters of Fiqh followed by the important beneficial points derived from the Hadith. He must have compiled this book after his long teaching tenure in the University.

He also taught us the subject of factions deviant in their beliefs and destructive in their practice. Normally this subject covers the factions and groups of the past in line with the books of Ibn Hazm and Al-Shihrastani. An addition is that of Mahdi and the imposter prophet of Qadian in India. We benefited from his elusive coverage of the subject, his eloquent speech and his bold presentation. He benefited our family in particular and this is what I have to disclose later under the events of 1964.

6. Sheikh Muhammad Al-Majdhub (d. 1999)

The famous writer and historian from Syria. He is an author of a number of books on Arabic prose and biographies. We had the benefit to read Arabic prose and poetry with him. He could be a match to Ali al-Tantawi of Syria in his style and writing. I was always keen to read the Arabic literature composed by those by whom he was inspired like Al-Manfaluti, Abbas Al-‘Aqqad, Taha Husain, Az-Zayyat, Muhibbul-din-Al-Khatib, Mustafa Al-Siba’i, Ahmad Amin and the likes. One of his famous books, “Men whom I Knew” is a skillfull elucidation of some of his contemporaries.

7. Sheikh Abdul Ra’uf Al-Lubadi

A great grammarian from Jordan. He taught us Alfiya Ibn Malik partly. He used to write an eloquent piece of Arabic prose entitled: “Letters not carried by the post” in the organ of the University. I am proud to have such a master of Arabic as my teacher.

8. Sheikh Muhammad Sulaiman Al-Ashqar (d. 16.11.2009)

Both he and his younger brothers, ‘Umar Al-Ashqar, come from a family of scholars in Jordan. He used to teach us “Fath-ul-Qadhir” in Tafsir and Bidayat-ul-Mujtahid in Fiqh. A part of it was taught by Sheikh Shanqiti as well. He had to leave Madinah and depart for Kuwait in 1965 because of an unprecedented event about which I have to speak later.

9. Sheikh Attiya Muhammad Salim

Originally from Egypt, he settled down in Madinah. We saw him in the office of the Registrar as soon as we arrived in the University. He was not among the teaching staff but I benefitted from him through his recollection of the Tafsir of the Qur’an which he collected from the numerous lessons of our Sheikh Al-Shanqiti entitled: “Adwa-ul-Bayan fi Tafsir Al-Quran bil Quran”. The major part of the book, nine volumes in total. The ninth volume is entirely a product of his research which he managed to compile by his own pen but in accordance to the methodology adopted by Sheikh Al-Shanqiti generally in the Tafsir.

Sheikh Attiya was kind enough to invite all of us, the delegates from India and Pakistan to his house for dinner. We have this privilege only from him or from Sheikh Ibn Baz about whom I have to write in detail once I cover the days of my stay in Madinah until my graduation in the summer of 1966.

10. Sheikh Muhammad Al-Abudi

A prolific writer with more than a hundred travelogues which speak about his visits to the four corners of the globe. He used to be the registrar when I joined the university and he remained in this position until his transfer to the Muslim World League (Rabitat-ul-Alam al-Islami) in Makkah. He was not among the teaching staff but I benefitted from him in two ways:

(i)                  He was the one to highlight the importance of launching a Da’wa scheme in Africa after his long trip in a number of African countries. After my graduation in 1966, this scheme had been materialised and the very first four persons chosen to be the pioneer of Da’wa in East Africa and Rhodesia (Zimbabwe presently) included myself as well and this is how I moved to Nairobi (Kenya) in April 1967 with my wife and a newly born child.

(ii)                I benefitted a lot from his travelogues and his experience during my own journeys in a number of countries in Africa. I am thankful to him that he has mentioned my name in the first book, “In Green Africa”.

There were some other Shuyukh from whom I benefitted either through their circles in the mosque or through their speeches and lectures at different gatherings. Among them I remember the following:

10. Sheikh Umar Fullatah of Mali whom I found him conducting Hadith circles in the Mosque.

11. Sheikh Muhammad Mukhtar Al-Shanqiti. He used to deliver lessons in Fiqh in the mosque.

12. Sheikh Abu Bakr Jabir from Algeria. He also had his circle in the Mosque but I benefitted from his book on ‘Aqeedah’ a lot during my days of teaching in East Africa.

13. Sheikh Hammad Al-Ansari. A great authority on Hadith.

14. Sheikh Muhammad Sa’d Al-Nada. An Egyptian whom we befriended as a neighbour in Madinah.

I have yet to speak about some more teachers from whom I benefitted during the last two years (1965-1966) of study in the University. They include my father Sheikh Abdul Ghaffar Hasan, hafiz Muhammad Gundalwi, Sheikh Nuruddin ‘Itr of Syria, Sheikh Mahmud al-Tahhan and the most famous scholars, the Mufti to be of Saudi Arabia, Sheikh Abdul Aziz bin Abdullah bin Baz.

Some memorable events during this period:

1.       A delegation of around 15-20 students landed in Madinah and coming from Tehran, Iran to join the University. They were all dressed in Western attire. Sheikh Abdul Aziz bin Baz hosted them in the same hotel, Bahauddin, where we stayed just after our arrival in Madinah. When they visited the University campus, a very simple of scattered buildings where all the students were male, they could hardly believe their eyes. They were expecting a colourful gathering of both male and female students. Disappointed and dismayed, they asked the Sheikh to be put on a flight back to Tehran. Sheikh’s plea to them to stay fell on deaf ears. All except one of them, the only Sunni among them, took their flight from Jeddah back to their homeland.

2.       I had to share the room with three companions: Ibrahim Khalil, Muhammad Nasir Rehmani and Farooq Naja of Lebanon. Our Lebanese friend was fond of French journals which he used to receive from Beirut. He was full of curiosity, critique and argumentative. We shared the same room for two years. In summer nights I took my mattress, a thick and bulky one, to the open ground in front of our block, just like other boys, to enjoy a cool and comfortable slumber under the starlit sky. But this experience lasted a few nights only because we discovered that scorpions roam freely at night on the ground. As soon as this dreadful information came to light, we all shifted back to our room.

3.       Each morning, a steward would come at Fajr time, knock at the door to wake us for Fajr prayers. The, a few days later, he discovered that some of the boys go to sleep once he left their doors. So he started a second round. He would come, open the door and switch on the light to see who the culprits were to lag behind. Thank God!! Many were fortunate to have gone to the mosque but some would find a way to hide. The best way was to lie down under the bed with the sheet covering him to be seen by the intruders.

4.       Our colleague from Mozambique, Abu Bakr by name, was fond of playing football. He was the one to buy a ball and set up a team to play in the open ground besides the entrance. One of the guards, a Bedouin by nature, did not like this sight at all. How could bearded men, dedicated to the learning of Quran and Sunnah, run after a ball worth a few Riyals? He thought that he should place an end to the evil. So he sat at a corner in hiding with a shotgun in his hand waiting for the ball to bounce within his sight. Once he got this golden opportunity, he shot at the flying ball which breathed its last falling flat on the ground. That was the end of Abu Bakr’s dream and a farewell to football by me as well. May Allah rest his soul. I had a chance to visit him at his home in Maputo in the mid-90s when I visited this country on behalf of Muslim Aid, a London based charity. I will speak about this later.

5.       During Ramadan (1383 AH/1963 AD) we were blessed to offer our second Umrah in the company of a host of students led by some of our teachers including Sheikh Abdul Wahhab Al-Banna. Two and a half months later I had the opportunity to offer my first Hajj. Mina, at that time, had narrow alleys leading to Jamarat. Even there were two to three story buildings on both sides of these narrow passages. After pebbling at Jamarat, one had to pass through them to reach that vast city of tents where most of the pilgrims had to stop before and after the main ritual of Hajj: staying and supplicating at Arafat. In Mina itself the slaughter big open area was located miles away. I remember visiting that area which did not show a pleasant sight because apart from the designated covered area of slaughtering people used to commit Qurbani in the passages and right in the courtyard at the entrance. The corpses were left without being removed or cleaned. One had to jump over them to make his way towards the exit. I am sorry to say that I had to leave my Qurbani behind as well as there were no arrangements to carry it back home. Normally a pilgrim had to shave his head after the ritual of Qurbani was over. So on my way back to my tent, I was looking for a barber to do the job. You would find some pilgrims with razors, scissors, a comb and a mirror sitting at the edge of the passages taking the role of a temporary barber. Their job was simple. They had to fix a razor in its hold and then try this razor forward and backward on the scalp of the poor pilgrims who had to offer a few riyals for this hasty and clumsy service. I yielded to one of them and offered my head to one of them. Whether his razor was blunt or his skill at this job was of a trainee, I could hardly survive the most painful ordeal and found myself lying on the ground unconscious and bewildered for a few minutes. I don’t remember whether I paid him or not, but I had to take a pledge for myself not to bow for a street barber anymore.



It was my first Hajj: an experience in patience, labour and devotion. There were more to come; Hajj of different status’, from peasantry to nobility, from hardship to comfort, from commoners to royalty, all in my coming life. May Allah accept the devotion which was expressed in different forms and situations.



6.       Once I myself with one of my friends walked towards the mountain behind the external wall of the campus. It is quite interesting to note that the closer you think a mountain in sight, the farther it is in distance. Anyhow, we reached the mount and started trekking into its stony pathways. We might have gone a short distance when we saw a big snake hurling in and around the rocks. To us it was a frightful sight. We did not throw any stone to the snake but retreated gently to our way back to the buildings. It was evening and buses had already left for Madinah. So we made our way through the abandoned and partly destroyed railway line which could lead us to the town. That was the line which was laid down by the Ottoman Empire, Sultan Abdul Hamid between Damascus and Madinah at the beginning of the 20th century to provide the pilgrims a fast and comfortable journey to the sacred land. It lasted only a few years because the Arab revolt led by Lawrence of Arabia, the famous British mercenary, destroyed the line to halt any deployment of the Turkish army from Syria to the city of the Prophet (SAW). We walked within the rails where it was derailed or interrupted because of a broken bridge or a rugged path not good for a passage. It was a long walk but eventually we had the sight of the houses and narrow alleys of the town through which we made our way to the Mosque of the Prophet (SAW) by Maghrib. After the prayer we had a good chat with a Bedouin who was sitting next to me in the row. Out of curiosity and excitement we narrated to him our frightful evening. He told us that we had done good by not killing the snake because there were Jinns, especially in Madinah who could shape themselves in the forms of snakes. To kill one of them is to invite oneself to a disaster. Later I had to come across some interesting situations concerning this issue. I leave it to another occasion to speak about it.

7.       We had the honour to see a number of very dignified personalities from among the Muslim world during Hajj season, especially those who were hosted by the University. I was very fond of the famous Syrian journal, ‘Hazarat-ul-Islam’. It was a pleasure to see its illustrated editor “Mustafa al-Siba’i” when he came to deliver a speech in Dar-ul-Hadith of Madinah. I saw him reclining on a pillow with his legs stretched out as one of his legs was either paralysed or bandaged. He was an author of many world famous books like the one entitled: “The Woman between Fiqh and Law” (in Arabic).



There had been a delegation of a galaxy of very prominent scholars who honoured the University with their presence and short speeches. Among them I remembered the following:



Sheikh Amjad al-Zahawi of Iraq

Sheikh Muhammad Mahmud Al-Sawwaf of Iraq

Sheikh Muhammad Al-Sabiq of Egypt

Sheikh Muhammad Abu Zuhra of Syria

Mufti Abdullah Al-Qalqili of Jordan

Sheikh Muhammad Al-Habib Bilkhoja of Tunisia



Those from India, included Sheikh Muhammad Zakariyya of Tablighi Jama’at and Sheikh Abul Hasan Ali Nadawi of Lucknow.



May Allah be pleased with them all.



8.       The first year came to an end by July 1963. We were all very keen to go back to our homeland and see our families. The Hajj was over and the Pakistani carreer Safnat-ul-Haujjaj had anchored at Jeddah sea post to receive the returning pilgrims. We, a number of Pakistani students came to Jeddah, bought our tickets and were looking to stay somewhere at night. We found a Mosque, very near to the port, to be our night shelter. With our handbags under our heads we went to sleep on the roof. By Fajr time we were all awake to discover that the bag of one of our colleagues had been stolen. Thanks God that the thief had thrown the unnecessary stuff on the stairs. So he found his ticket and passport and did Istirja (to say: Inna lillah wa Inna Ilaihe Rajioon) on the loss of his money. Like our last year’s voyage we took seven days to reach the Karachi airport where I was received by my family anxious to meet me. Though I had left them in Montgomry (at present Sahiwal), my father had moved to Karachi to take a teaching post at Madrasa Rahmanya, Soldier Bazar, Karachi. It was also known as Sufaid Masjid (White Mosque). My father had studied in Madrasa Rahmanya of Delhi and now ended up once again in a seminary with a similar name which was established in the memory of its namesake in Delhi by Sheikh Abdul Wahhab, the son of the founder of Delhi Madrasa, Sheikh Ata-ul-Rahman. For two months I had my leisure time to enjoy reading and strolling in the streets of the Capital city of Pakistan. There used to be the office of “Al-Arab”, the only Arabic magazine of Pakistan, edited by Abdul Monim Al-Adawi, an Arab in exile. The magazine used to report the activities of the Arab community and Arab embassies in Karachi. There were very few articles worthy to be read. I developed a friendship with the editor’s young son of my age. We used to have a lot of chats either in the veranda of his house or in the small garden which served as a roundabout behind the mausoleum of Mohammad Ali Jinnah, more famously known as Qaid Azam, the founder of Pakistan. I used to share my experiences with him of Madinah and his speech reflected the aspirations and ambitions of a young man living relevantly in a liberal society of Karachi.



Just near to the office of Al-Arab, was the headquarters of Qureshi Limited Company, to which Dr Israr Ahmed had moved to take a managerial post in his elder brother’s construction company. I paid a visit to him and attended one of his regular circles as well. Three months of vacation came to pass quickly and I had to arrange for my journey back to Madinah.



9.       A new way to reach Saudi was discovered by me. A steamship company, B.I (British India) by name used to operate a passenger and cargo ship between Bombay and Basra those days. As I had lost contact with my colleagues, I was left alone to embark upon an adventurous journey through this vessel. One evening I had to say farewell to my family once again and set for Bahrain, the nearest point to Saudi Arabia. It was a five days voyage passing through the ports of Gawadar, Masqat, Ra’sul Khaima, Al-Shariqa, Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Al-Doha. This was a pleasant journey which channelled through the Persian (or Arabian) Gulf in comparison to my first two voyages in the Indian Ocean. Here the sea was calm, the sail was smooth and there were more stops to let travellers witness the land more often.



I had a ticket for deck which meant an open air safari with no seats or beds. I had to spread my sleeping bag on the floor which served as a resting place for the day and night. As soon as we reached our first stop, the port of Masqat (Oman), we were asked to pack our bags and move anywhere in the ship. To my amazement, the floor on which we stayed, was the roof for the lower storey which was used as a go down for the commercial goods. The roof, which comprised of two big wooden planks, was left open and the goods were taken, others brought in by massive cranes on the port. The noise of the labourers working both on the ship and the shore filled the air. I was used to Yamani dialects that of labourers in Saudi Arabia and here was another dialect, Omani and that of Gulf Amirdoms (Emirates later) with a blend of Urdu words.



The sailing was smooth and enjoyable. Whenever the upper deck’s front nook dived in the sea, the water splashed high above the deck rinsing the spectators who stood there enjoying the sight of dolphins. I had to rest on my sleeping bag as long as the ship was mooring. As soon as it came to anchor at a post, we had to fold our bags and look for a safe corner as our platform was to be opened apart to receive or transfer the goods. On the fifth day, I reached my destination: Manama, the port of Bahrain. I had to look for a small hotel as the night had already spread its wings. It was no surprise to find a room shared by three or four persons, all foreigners to one another in a two storey small hotel. In the lounge, which was in fact the open roof area on the second floor, I had my first sight of a small set of black and white TV. In Pakistan, by that time, this innovation had not yet been introduced. I got up early, took my breakfast and rushed towards the other side of Manama port from where dhows and launches sailed for Al-Khubar, the nearest Saudi seaport.



The short journey in a small dhow was another maiden experience of my life. Al-Khobar’s market was thronged with tourists, men and women, both brown and white. Later I came to know that Az-Zahran, the twin city with Al-Khobar, enjoyed a great number of expatriates, mostly from America.



How I came to know Abdul Ghani, a very charming and generous Pakistani young man is beyond my memory. He welcomed me in his spacious good looking apartment. From his fridge, sprang out cheese, butter, cream, yogurt and fruits; all to be shared by the humble guest who was a complete stranger to him



By mid-day he took me to the taxi stand. The American Impala cars had best served as careers between the towns in Saudi Arabia. Once four passengers filled the car seats, the driver darted with it on the highway. It was a 300 kilometre journey passing through the sands of Al-Dahna. Sand made clusters on the road low enough for taxis and buses to traverse upon it. The driver’s face was fully covered by the red-lined Arabian scarf which served a number of functions including a shelter for the face if a person had to emerge out of the car for any reason. By the evening I was in Riyadh looking for a similar vehicle to take me to Madinah. I should have taken some rest that night but a shouting by a driving who kept on saying loudly: “Madinah! Madinah” attracted me. He was a truck driver and his heavy vehicle was full of cartons, goods of merchandise in the open back area. The passengers had to seat themselves on these cartons. I sat on some of them holding the rails in front of me just close to the driver’s cabin. The journey started after the Maghrib on a smooth tarmac road until we reached Afif, a juncture separating the road to Madinah from that to Makkah. To my amazement, the road to our destination was still a mud road, a track in the sand. It was a cool night with fresh comely breeze comforting us throughout the night. We could hear the Bedouin songs sung by the driver and his companion which kept on making us alert. To balance myself I had to keep holding the rails and expel the slumber to take over me. We passed by Buraida and Qasim in the early hours of the morning, prayed Fajr somewhere at a stop and then eventually came to a halt before noon at a shanty restaurant by the sand highway. The driver gave us the good news that we could have a taste of sleep, on the wooden bench-cum-beds till Asr time when the scorching heat of the Arabian noon would fade away. We enjoyed the simple Arabian rice and meat dishes and lied down for our early siesta. Combining Zuhur and Asr at a later time, we were ready to continue our journey once again after Asr. The truck driver followed the track vigilantly but at one point he took a wrong turning and lost his way. Thanks Allah that he was able to re track the path after waving to a Bedouin and asking him for guidance. We were on the right track before the nightfall. It was our second night in this hazardous journey. By the rays of the rising sun, the morning brought us closer to our destination.



Again it was tarmac road behind a chain of mountains on our right. That was the back of Mount Uhud, the famous mountain of Madinah. Soon the shining minarets of the Mosque of the Prophet SAW caught our gaze. Alhamdulilah, we were in Madinah, after a day and two nights’ laborious but adventurous journey. The books of Hadith speak about ‘Rihla’ (journey in pursuit of knowledge), its excellence and many examples set by the careers of Hadith in this regard. I hoped that mine would be a small, humble contribution to this cause as well. Now it was the start of my second year in Al-Jami’a and I have to speak about some more memories of this year until my next voyage back to Karachi in the summer of 1964, in the next chapter.