My Hifdh Journey

I started my journey as a child in the UK when I was 5, going to the local madrassa. Memories of loads of kids and loud praying. Sneaking sweets under the patlas (benches), extended trips to the toilets with friends. 

At the age of 10, the imam of the madrassa and my dad had a chat and decided I should start Hifdh as they felt I had a very powerful memory Alhamdulillah. I resisted as all my friends were starting to leave madrassa and I was afraid of the hard work I’d have to put in, because I had seen my sisters put so much time and effort into their Hifdh, my 3 sisters are also hafidha. 

They insisted I try a little. I did and realised it wasn’t so difficult and I quite enjoyed it so i continued. I started officially when I was 11 and finished when I was 15. Then I revised it and moved on to secular studies. College and university.

After qualifying as a nurse, I was still reading but it wasn’t structured revision and this continued after marriage as I balanced work and children. I went on to train as a Nurse Practitioner and the Qur’an was read looking in but nobody had really listened to it properly since I left madrassa. 

Life in London was a rat race, constantly chasing my tail. Both of us Working to pay the mortgage, hubby working long hours and often away with work, bringing up 4 little ones. The evenings were focused on their islamic studies but my Hifdh was still on a back burner. 

After I moved to AD, I decided it was time to take a career break. Alhamdulillah my husband was on board. This would give me a much awaited chance to focus on my daughters. I also went to the see the teacher at the local mosque in my area (reef). She corrected my tajweed and makharij straight away and I must admit this threw me off guard, so I slowly stopped going. 

I started teaching English as a foreign language and whilst it was rewarding, I didn’t feel at peace. At the same time, My husband started his new job and when he went to see the medical team at his new workplace, he mentioned in conversation that I was a nurse practitioner. They called me in for a chat, and  the manager ( a very kind Jordanian man) asked me questions about myself. He was very frank with me and said, we will snap you up but if you want my honest advice If you don’t need to work, I would stay home and focus on your Qur’an and focus on your daughters. 

So, I took his advice. Probably one of the best pieces of advice I received. I went home and continued my Hifdh at home but it wasn’t the same so after a while I went back to the local mosque. 

It was at this point, one of the ladies, a lovely Malaysian sister, my dear friend,   mentioned another Centre that I should attend too. She gave me a number that I called. 

The teacher told me to come in to the Centre so they could assess me. When I got there, a lady ushered me into a room where another lady sat behind a desk. She spoke to me in Arabic and I responded in English. It was quite daunting. They asked me to recite from anywhere in the Qur’an so I did. The 2 ladies spoke in Arabic and then The lady who had taken me in said “ you will come into my class”. 

I followed her to her class and walked into a room of 10-11 Arab women. My stomach was doing butterflies. The teacher resumed her class and I sat and listened. Their recitation was wonderful. Mine was terrible in comparison. I was hoping she wouldn’t ask me to recite in front of the class and I thought I’d got away with it until she said my name. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. My recitation was terrible in comparison to the others. But I recited and everyone listened. She didn’t correct me much. 

In the break, the ladies were curious about me. Who was I? Why was I in their class if I didn’t speak Arabic( the teacher spoke to me in English) was I married, did I have kids etc. After the initial curiosity they all went back to their chit chat in Arabic. I sat there silently and observed them. I could feel the emotions kicking in. What was I doing here? I didn’t speak the language, I didn’t know anybody. But I got through the session.

When I got home and told my husband how I felt like a fish out of water. He said “ you

don’t have to do this”. But I did! I couldn’t run away because it was difficult. I needed to do this to ensure that my Qur’an was still there. I needed to do this because all my life, I’d focused on social influences and this time there wouldn’t be any in this gathering because I didn’t speak the language. I could truly focus on the Qur’an. I needed to do this to set an example for my daughters. So many reasons!

So I went back. Now, The teacher started correcting me. The other ladies helped me tremendously. Explaining and advising. I became a part of the Centre. They recognized me. Taking part in their class competitions, sharing their teas and snacks at break. The teacher and I built a beautiful relationship. Alhamdulillah it was quite poetic. 

In 2018, I completed my Hifdh certification with them. After taking 5 very intense exams. When they had the awards ceremony, my teacher cried as she told the gathering about my journey despite not speaking their language. She hugged me and sobbed as did I.  It was a very emotional day. 

Since then, I’ve been practicing and training for my Sanad. But I realise I’m in no rush. The Qur’an isn’t going anywhere and I want to enjoy every moment of my journey, sharing what I can with my daughters as they complete their Hifdh, with friends and with the world at large.

I am now hifdh teacher to my 4 daughters- 2 who have completed their first hifdh khatam and 2 still persisting. I also help others. I have now created a variety of platforms to support others on their journey.

I would be lying if I said it’s been plain sailing. It hasn’t. But nothing worth having, comes easily. 

R x