The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)

Heavy with the sun, with its rays scorching the desert into an oven of light and heat, the sun stood over Mecca. In a small corner near the Kaaba, a man was lying on the ground chained to the burning sand, his back raw from the whip, his lips dry and cracked. Each inhalation was punctuated by pain but from his shaking lips was uttered a word that would not die.

“Ahad… Ahad…”

“One… One.”

The man was Bilal ibn Rabah (RA), a slave who had African parents, and was in the possession of one of the most merciless leaders of Quraysh, Umayyah ibn Khalaf. In a city of pride and idols and lineage, Bilal was not seen -- a servant with nothing to value in his eyes of men. But in the sight of Allah he was destined to be higher in Allah's sight than kings.

Before he was reached by the message of Islam Bilal's life was one of silence and servitude. He obeyed his master, he fetched water, he carried goods and he lived under the weight of chains. Yet he was thoughtful, observant -- and there burned within his breast a silent desire for truth. The idols of Mecca never made sense to him, he had seen men carve and then polish them and then they bowed before them. How could humanly made things have divine power?

Then one day, whispers started to spread - of a man called Muhammad ibn Abdullah (pliced) who claimed that there was no god but One. His message was straightforward yet strong: all men were created equal and the only standard of worth was faith and righteousness. For Bilal it was as if the clouds had parted. He looked for out this man in secret and heard him. Something about each word went deep into him. The message of the Prophet was not the message of wealth or power - it was the message of the soul, it was the message of justice, it was the message of the mercy of the One Creator.

Without hesitation Bilal converted to Islam. And from that day, his heart was solely for Allah alone.

When his master learned of this, there was fury. Umayyah took Bilal into the desert screaming in the face of the Quraysh, "You will curse Muhammad, or you will die!" He stripped Bilal and threw him in on the burning ground with a huge rock pressed on his chest so that he could hardly breathe. But even then as the sun blazed and the crowd abused, Bilal said his prayers again and again,

“Ahad… Ahad…”

The more they tortured him, the more he became strong in his voice. He did not scream for mercy. He did not beg. His body was bound but his soul flew above their cruelty. In those times, he was more free than any of them.

The Prophet's nearest companion, Abu Bakr (RA) heard the news of his suffering. Unable to bear it, Abu Bakr went to Umayyah and demanded the release of Bilal. The greedy master smiled and quoted an exorbitant sum of money. Without hesitation, Abu Bakr paid it. Bilal, being freed of the chains from his body, he stood tall and was now a free believer after slinking in the dust, powerless.

When the Prophet (ﷺ) saw Bilal he smiled warmly and said,

Abu Bakr has set free the master of the callers to prayer.

Bilal's emancipation was not just the lifting of the iron, but the triumph of faith over oppression. He remained close to the Prophet and learned from him, served him, and increased in devotion. When the Muslims migrated to Medina and built their first mosque, the Prophet went around looking for someone to call the people to prayer. His eyes fell upon Bilal.

And so, for the first time, Bilal went to the high place he could find and called out to the heavens.

“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar…”

His voice was heard during the silence of Medina and was pure and strong and has illuminated the hearts of the believers. They wept as they heard the voice of a man who had been a slave -- calling them to celebrate the One who is a liberator of all souls.

Bilal was the first Mu'azzin (the voice that calls people to prayer) of Islam. Every Allahu Akbar that he uttered was a song of victory - a cry of the heart that had known chains and now knew freedom.

Years went by, and Bilal stayed next to the Prophet in documentation as well as during the times of peace. But when the Prophet (ﷺ) passed away Bilal's heart broke. He attempted to give the call to prayer one more time but when he reached the words "Ashhadu anna Muhammadur Rasulullah," his voice broke. Tears filled his eyes and he could go no further. Medina, which had been full of his great call, now seemed unbearably silent.

Shortly after this He left the city and lived in Syria, but his love for the Prophet never left him. It was narrated that one night he saw the Prophet ( Orts ) smiling, and saying:

Bilal said: O my Lord, what is this distance between us? Have you not visited me?”

Bilal awoke with tears, his heart was aglow again. Soon afterwards, he returned to Medina, went to the Prophet's grave and prayed the Adhan again. The people poured into the streets and wept as the voice which formerly called them to prayer filled the air again.

Soon after the death of Bilal, he would certainly have been welcomed by the angels themselves - the slave whose death became a symbol of freedom, and the man whose voice echoed with the truth of "Ahad, Ahad" throughout time. His story is still a reminder that true power does not reside in riches or birth but in faith - the kind that survives fire, chains and pain but never ceases to whisper the truth:

There is no god but Allah.