Imaratul Masjid

I walked through the gates of the IIUM Central Mosque, also known as the Sultan Haji Ahmad Shah Mosque, with a heavy heart and a meager sum of two ringgit in my wallet. The weight of my financial struggles seemed to have found a permanent residence within me. As I entered a nearby shop, my eyes caught sight of a cup of Maggi, its warm aroma tantalizing my senses. My stomach grumbled, begging for even a morsel of food.

Approaching the shopkeeper, I asked hesitantly, "How much for the cup of Maggi?"

"It's three ringgit," he replied curtly, his tone laced with annoyance.

I sighed inwardly, knowing that all I had was two ringgit. Inflation had hit hard, and even a simple cup of instant noodles seemed out of reach. Reluctantly, I returned the Maggi cup to the shopkeeper, though he offered to let me pay later. Debt was not something I was comfortable with, for I knew the weight it carried, both financially and emotionally.

Disheartened, I stepped out of the shop, my eyes scanning my surroundings for a glimmer of hope. That's when I noticed a gathering downstairs in the mosque. Curiosity piqued, I made my way down, and what I saw left me astonished.

There, laid out before me, were rows upon rows of free food, prepared specially for students. It was a sight to behold. Boxes filled with nourishing meals awaited those in need. Astonishingly, there was no one guarding the place, no one scrutinizing how much each student took. It was a gesture of pure generosity, free from judgment or discrimination.

My heart swelled with gratitude and a sense of belonging. I joined the students who sat on the floor, their faces reflecting both hunger and relief. With gratitude in our eyes, we uttered words of thanks and praise to the Almighty. "Alhamdulillah," we whispered. "Subhanallah." And with remorse for our circumstances, we sought forgiveness, "Astaghfirullah."

As I savored the taste of the fish with black gravy, the vegetables, and the rice, I couldn't help but think of the countless others who were not here, who struggled to put food on their plates. I yearned for the ability to serve those needy students of IIUM, to shield them from the pain caused by their poor financial backgrounds.

Just yesterday, the student affairs office had sent out survey forms, inquiring about students facing difficulties in affording food. I held a deep disdain for the officers who worked there, for their apathy and lack of understanding. It seemed as if they held the power to judge and belittle those in need, forgetting the immense corruption perpetrated by politicians that ran into billions of dollars.

These officers, with their short and stout figures, exuded arrogance with every gesture, their moody and gloomy faces reinforcing their disdain for students like us. They distributed food coupons as if they were throwing rubbish in a bin, oblivious to the impact it had on our self-esteem.

If only I had the means, the financial power to ensure that no student faced racism or hunger on this campus. If only I could eradicate the fear of being bullied simply because of one's family background or race. But alas, my two ringgit were a reminder of my limitations, of the powerlessness that engulfed me.

As I finished my meal, tears welled up in my eyes, mingling with the bittersweet taste of the food. In that moment, I vowed to strive, to work hard, so that one day I could uplift those in need, so that the needy students of IIUM would walk this campus without fear or hunger, their dignity intact....