Sometimes the Best Answer Is No

The Opportunity

When the phone rang that afternoon, I hesitated.

It was a number I didn’t recognize, and in the middle of my study break, I almost let it go to voicemail. But something nudged me, so I answered.

“Hello, is this Zayan Ahmed?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“I’m calling from DarulVision Studios. We came across your short film on YouTube—Silent Roads. We think you’ve got a rare voice. Are you open to working with us on a new series project in Dubai?”

The words hung in the air like a prayer being answered.

For a 23-year-old film student from Lahore, this was the dream. A studio in Dubai had not only seen my work—they wanted to work with me. I sat silently for a few seconds, overwhelmed, my heart racing. My hands trembled as I reached for a pen.

They emailed the offer that evening. A six-month assistant directorship. Paid travel. Accommodation. A rare opportunity. I stared at the email for hours. Then came the second wave: uncertainty.

Because to accept, I’d have to live abroad alone. The set environment wasn’t ideal—night shoots, music-based dramas, female co-leads, private housing arrangements. I’d be away from my mother, from Jummah at my masjid, from the routine that kept me grounded in my deen. I consulted my mentor. Then my older brother. Then made istikhara.

I wanted to say yes.

But the answer in my heart, quietly, firmly, was no.

The Reaction

When I replied the next morning and respectfully declined, the producer seemed surprised.

“Zayan, this could change your life.”

“I believe that,” I said, “but I don’t want to change my values to get there.”

There was silence. Then a polite, disappointed goodbye.

Over the next few weeks, I wrestled with doubt. Had I just ruined my only real chance at doing something big? Friends told me I was crazy. Even my father, though supportive, asked, “Are you sure you’re not being too rigid?”

But deep down, I knew something they didn’t.

My soul wasn’t made for just success. It was made to serve, and I couldn’t serve both ego and God at the same time.

I went back to small projects, filming weddings, student documentaries, and tutoring younger kids on editing. It felt like a step down, but there was peace in it. And then, two months later, came the message that changed everything.

A senior producer at a faith-based international media nonprofit had seen the same short film—Silent Roads. They were hiring a director for a Ramadan documentary series focused on inspiring young Muslims worldwide.

This time, the fit was perfect.

A remote-first team, flexible hours, modest creative values, and work centered around purpose—not fame.

I accepted without hesitation.

The Wisdom of "No"

That job led to more than just projects. It led me to mentors who reminded me of the balance between art and accountability. It led me to Malaysia, where I directed my first full-length documentary. It introduced me to a co-producer who is now my wife. It even led to a moment, in Makkah during Umrah, when I looked up at the Kaaba and whispered,

“Ya Allah… thank You for saying no on my behalf when I couldn’t say it alone.”

Now, when I mentor young artists in the same place I once stood—anxious to say yes to every chance—I remind them that sometimes, the doors that don’t open are the ones that protect us.

Not all good things are meant for you.

And sometimes, the best answer… is no.