Nahyan

As the city falls silent at night, Nahyan sits by his window. A cold wind blows outside, and an invisible terror spreads all around. He knows that tomorrow he will have to make a big decision—a decision that could change him forever, or erase him.

Nahyan was born in a secular country, where Islam was limited to identity, and had no value in real life. Since childhood, he has grown up with a kind of restlessness—every day in school, on TV, and on social media, his religion is ridiculed, but no one protests. Even his own parents have told him, “Don’t take everything so seriously, learn to live life.”

But Nahyan couldn’t do that.

When he was in seventh grade, he read a translation of the Quran for the first time. The verses of Surah Anfal were etched in his heart—“Those who believe in Allah, peace comes to their hearts.” He began to wonder, why don’t these verses have a real impact on our lives? Why don’t we just ‘recite’ and try to understand?

A revolution came to his world of thought when one day he saw on YouTube a Syrian teenager praying to Allah in the ruins of a destroyed mosque, blood on his body but peace on his face. That scene created a storm inside Nahyan that wouldn’t let him stop.

He began to analyze the verses of the Quran on his own, read Islamic history, especially the hardships of the Prophet Muhammad’s (peace be upon him) life in Mecca. He discovered that Islam was never just a ritual religion—it was a philosophy of revolution, self-restraint, and establishing justice.

Gradually, he built his own circle—among friends who sought the truth, a teacher who was secretly an Islamist, and some young people who wanted a new dawn, where Muslim identity would be a matter of pride, not shame.

But this circle was not easy.

One day, he publicly said at school, “I believe that the law of Allah can give people true freedom.” Immediately, the school authorities summoned him, sent letters to his parents, and even the media reported him in a small way—“Searching for a student who believes in extremism.”

When he returned home, he saw his mother crying and his father shouting, “You are putting us in danger! Why do we need to worry about all this?”

Nahian remained silent, only saying, “Father, if telling the truth is wrong, then I will not say anything more.”

But his silence did not mean defeat. On the contrary, from that day on, he silently began a revolution. He made short videos on his phone, where he explained the philosophy of Islam in simple terms—how Islam respected women, how the Prophet (peace be upon him) was the voice of the oppressed, how the Quran tells people to think. At first, no one watched, but then his followers gradually increased.

One day, an unknown young man sent him a message—“Brother, I was an atheist. I started praying again after watching your video.” At that moment, Nahyan's eyes filled with tears. He felt that this was his victory. This was his goal.

He understood that revolutions do not happen only on the streets, nor with swords—revolutions happen in consciousness, in speech, and in the waves that invisibly change society.

But the longer it goes on, the more he finds himself in danger. One day, a spy secretly calls him and says, “What do you want? An Islamic state? War? Let our country be destroyed?”

Nahyan says, “No. I want to tell the truth, not to mislead anyone. If this is a crime, then I am a criminal.”

He returns, knowing that anything can happen after this. But he is not afraid, because he has discovered the strength that makes him steadfast like a mountain—tawakkul.

Many of his friends disappear, some go into hiding, some flee the country out of fear. But Nahyan remains, silently, working in the shadows. Today, he is not a great Maulana, not a political leader, not a famous speaker. But his videos, his writings, his thoughts have inspired thousands of young people.

He is like a lighthouse, whose light is not always visible, but shows the way to those who have lost their way.

He still sits by the window at night. Outside is a storm, the atmosphere is heavy with wind. Maybe tomorrow he will be taken away.

But he is ready. Beyond his window is darkness, but in his heart is light—the light that burns only for the pleasure of Allah.

A silent smile on his face—because he knows that his battle will not be defeated even if he is alone.