Episode One: The Beginning… Where It All Started
This is not an autobiography in the conventional sense, nor is it an attempt to speak about myself. Rather, these are pages of gratitude dedicated to the men who shaped a generation, to the cities that nurtured knowledge, and to moments which, only after the passing of many years, I came to recognise as manifestations of Allah’s hidden kindness, a kindness that often becomes visible only when one looks back. The older I grow, the more convinced I become that a person does not shape himself alone. Rather, Allah Almighty fashions him through the means He prepares at different stages of life: a teacher who opens a door, a mentor who instils noble character, a home that embraces him, and a city that grants him his earliest identity.
When people ask me, “Where did your journey begin?” I do not say, “It began in Madinah.” Rather, I say with complete certainty: It began in Asmara. There I memorised my first verse of the Qur’an. There I first sat at the feet of scholars. There I learnt that knowledge is not merely information to be memorised, but a light that refines the heart and shapes the human being.
I cannot write about that period without placing at the forefront of my memory my first teacher, my mentor, and my educator, Shaykh Hamid Abdulqadir, Chief Judge of the Grand Sharia Court in Asmara, may Allah have mercy upon him. He taught me the Noble Qur’an, Islamic jurisprudence, Qur’anic exegesis, and the laws of inheritance. Yet the greatest lessons he left within me were far beyond these sciences. He taught me through his smile before his lessons, through his asceticism before his sermons, and through his humility before his knowledge. He spoke little but accomplished much. Whenever he sat to teach, one felt that the majesty of knowledge arrived before his words. He regarded his students as a compassionate father regards his children. His aim was not merely to produce students who memorised classical texts, but to raise men who would carry the message of Islam.
Among the greatest things he did for me was that he did not wait until I was older to entrust me with teaching. While I was still a child, he would present me before people to explain lessons and teach them. He wished to instil confidence within me and to raise me upon the understanding that knowledge is a responsibility before it is an honour. As the years passed, this noble man occupied an ever greater place in my heart, until I realised that the greatest legacy a scholar leaves behind is not the number of books he writes, but the people he nurtures.
I then joined the Islamic Religious Institute in Asmara, a distinguished institution established by scholars who had graduated from Al Azhar University. It embodied the spirit, methodology, and educational tradition of Al Azhar itself. The institute had its own Shaykh, director, and scholarly faculty, all of whom were graduates of Al Azhar. They wore its traditional attire and carried its intellectual heritage. Anyone entering its grounds could almost imagine themselves within the courtyards of Al Azhar in Cairo. The resemblance lay not merely in dress, but in its profound respect for knowledge, the dignity afforded to teachers, disciplined learning, educational philosophy, and commitment to developing the whole person.
The Masjid of the Rightly Guided Caliphs was another university in its own right, no less influential than the institute itself. There we sat before eminent scholars, among them Shaykh Abdullah Al Azhari, may Allah have mercy upon him. He explained the Qur’an in such eloquent Arabic that the listener felt the verses come alive before his eyes. Years later, when I came to know the Qur’anic exegesis of Imam Shaykh Muhammad Metwally Al Sha’rawi through television, I was always reminded of Shaykh Abdullah Al Azhari. Both possessed that remarkable gift of making the listener experience the Qur’an before hearing its interpretation.
Between Maghrib and Isha prayers, we would also attend the lessons of the distinguished scholar Shaykh Mahmoud Muhammad Ali Bekhit, may Allah have mercy upon him. He combined scholarship with public service, holding a senior position within the Ministry of Education while never allowing administrative responsibilities to distract him from teaching. He was elegant in appearance, punctual, highly organised, and eloquent in speech. During a single lesson he would move effortlessly between jurisprudence, prophetic biography, and moral education, making hours pass like mere moments. Through him, Allah opened many hearts, and his influence upon Islamic education and da’wah was profound.
I later enrolled at the Arab Community School, where my intellectual horizons expanded even further. There I studied Arabic literature, memorised the Seven Mu’allaqat, learnt Arabic grammar under Shaykh Isma’il, and studied Arabic language and Islamic sciences under the former Grand Mufti of Eritrea, Shaykh Al Amin Uthman Al Amin, may Allah have mercy upon him, together with a distinguished group of scholars whose favour remains a lasting debt upon me.
My education, however, was not confined to Islamic studies. Alongside my religious education, I attended mainstream schools where I studied in both English and Tigrinya. This broadened my perspective and opened new windows through which to understand the wider world. During my intermediate education, I had the privilege of studying at Botego School, an historic Italian institution established during the Italian administration of Eritrea. It was among the most beautiful, elegant, and prestigious schools in Asmara.
Its principal was the respected educator Mr Abdul Rahim Mahmoud, may Allah grant him a long and blessed life, who now resides in Australia. He was an outstanding educational leader who combined firm discipline with genuine care for his students, leaving a lasting impression upon all who studied under him. There I studied English, mathematics, biology, chemistry, physics, political science, and many other modern disciplines. The combination of traditional Islamic scholarship with modern academic education became one of Allah’s greatest blessings upon me and later prepared me to engage confidently with diverse societies and cultures.
I also remained deeply indebted to Mr Abdul Rahim, who later assumed leadership of the school. He was an exceptionally capable educational leader who managed the institution with wisdom and excellence. He encouraged me greatly and generously devoted his time and attention to my development, leaving a profound mark upon my character.
Beyond the walls of schools, there were homes that cultivated awareness and intellectual curiosity. Among those that left a deep impression upon me was the home of the distinguished Mr Hassan Mohammed Osman Hiyouti, Managing Director of the Dairy Company, who embodied the qualities of an enlightened intellectual. He firmly believed that reading was the path to civilisation and progress. He welcomed young people warmly, encouraged them to acquire books, generously gifted them volumes from his own collection, and nurtured within them a lifelong passion for knowledge.
Today, after all these years, I realise that no single scholar, school, or book shapes a person. Rather, it is an entire ecosystem of scholars, teachers, mentors, conscious families, and righteous environments that moulds one’s character. For this reason, I carry profound gratitude towards every individual who contributed, whether greatly or modestly, to the formation of my personality. These pages are but a humble attempt to honour them and a sincere prayer that Allah rewards them all abundantly on my behalf.
During those formative years, Allah willed that Shaykh Muhal ibn Shadid and Shaykh Muhammad Al Omari, both from the Islamic University of Madinah, should visit Asmara on an academic mission. That visit became the defining turning point of my life. They listened to the young boy that I was, spoke with my father, and expressed their wish that I be sent to study at the Islamic University of Madinah.
It was only a brief encounter, yet it marked the beginning of an entire lifetime’s journey.
At the time, however, I did not realise that my journey to Madinah would not begin in Asmara, but in Addis Ababa. Eritrea had not yet achieved independence, and passports were issued only from the Ethiopian capital. I did not even possess a passport. Thus, the first step towards one journey began with another journey altogether.
The story of Addis Ababa, obtaining my very first passport, bidding farewell to my family, and setting off for Madinah while still a young boy is a story deserving of its own chapter. It will, Allah willing, be the subject of the next episode.
