Never in our history have so many Muslims held positions of power and influence like today. Look around Malawi today—Muslim doctors healing in hospitals, lawyers arguing in courts, professors shaping minds in universities, directors making decisions in government.
But look closer at the contradiction before us.
While graduates drive air-conditioned cars to luxury offices, Islamic schools collapse under leaking roofs. As we contemplate upgrading to a third vehicle, our own nephew walks barefoot to school. We debate which luxury hotel deserves our patronage while a widow in our extended family sells firewood just to survive.
Some of us fail to help our struggling relatives—not from lack of means, but from a perverse desire to remain the only star in the room, the only success story in our village, the only name mentioned with respect.
This is not Islam. This is arrogance wrapped in designer clothes.
THE GREAT DECEPTION
We’ve been fooled by our own titles and paychecks. That medical degree funded by zakat money? The scholarship that lifted you from poverty? They weren’t gifts—they were investments in our future. Investments we’ve stolen from the next generation while drowning in extravagance.
How dare we feast while your neighbour’s children go hungry? How dare we build mansions while the mosque that raised us leaks during rainy season? The Prophet (PBUH) said: “He is not a believer whose stomach is filled while his neighbour goes hungry.” Yet here we are—Muslims with fat bank accounts and starving relatives.
This mentality of wanting to be the lone star is what drives us to always prefer employment over entrepreneurship. Rather than venturing into business where we could assist ourselves, uplift our community, and contribute to national development through taxes, we chase the security and prestige of individual positions. Of course, we have some Muslim entrepreneurs, but examine their companies—they’re dominated by people of other faiths. This isn’t because we lack qualified Muslims, but sometimes because we ourselves lack honesty and commitment to our community. It’s a two-way challenge: when we are given opportunities, how do we respond? Because there are indeed some who genuinely consider their fellow Muslims.
THE CANCER OF SELFISHNESS
We’ve created a culture where:
A man will spend millions on a wedding but refuse to pay his cousin’s school fees. Women compete in designer hijabs while their sisters wear torn second-hand clothes. Families hide their wealth from struggling relatives to avoid “being bothered”. We justify our excesses as “blessings” while ignoring the suffering next door.
This isn’t just negligence—it’s a betrayal of the most basic Islamic principles. You want to be the only star? Remember what happens to stars that refuse to shine—they burn out in isolation.
THE HARD TRUTHS WE AVOID
If your own flesh and blood are struggling while you live in luxury, you’ve failed as a Muslim. The Quran commands maintaining family ties, not abandoning them when they need you most.
That expensive car? That lavish vacation? Allah blessed you to test you. Will you share or hoard? The Prophet (PBUH) warned: “Beware of extravagance, for the extravagant are the brothers of the devils.”
You want to be the only educated person from your village? The only wealthy family in your area? This isn’t success—it’s shameful. True Muslims create pathways for others, not dead ends.
Those Muslims who have achieved positions of influence—particularly in government—rarely use their platforms to elevate qualified co-religionists, even when those individuals possess all necessary qualifications. What’s most troubling is that we witness these same officials readily assisting others, particularly those from their friends’ religious denominations. They observe firsthand how other religious communities prioritize their own qualified members, yet fail to apply the same principle when it comes to fellow Muslims.
Muslims in Malawi’s Central and North regions live as double minorities—scorned locally, forgotten by national Muslim bodies. Bursaries, grants, and aid cluster around the South and East, where our numbers dominate. But what of the student in Kasungu whose madrassa lacks roofs? Or the widow in Rumphi who sells firewood to feed her children?
THE RECKONING COMING
Allah says: “And whatever you spend, He will replace it.” (34:39)
Yet we act like:
Helping others will make us poor. Supporting relatives is a burden. Charity begins anywhere except our own homes.
What will you say when Allah asks:
Why did you let your sister’s children drop out of school? Why did you ignore your uncle’s medical bills? Why did you build a palace while your parents’ village lacked clean water?
In 2010, we tried to address this problem. Lawyers, doctors, and educators gathered to form the Association of Muslim Professionals. Dreams of mentorship programs, scholarships, and lobbying filled the room. But egos clashed. Those not chosen as leaders stormed out. The president resigned. The association dissolved.
This pattern has repeated itself countless times across our community. Many small Islamic organizations and groups have started with noble intentions only to collapse because there was no unity and everyone wanted to be seen. These failures demonstrate that our challenge isn’t a lack of awareness or initial goodwill, but rather a persistent struggle to subordinate personal ambition to collective progress.
THE WAY BACK
This is your intervention:
List every struggling relative. Help at least one this month. Not leftovers—real support. Education. Healthcare. Livelihoods. That extravagant expense you’re planning? Cancel it. Redirect the funds to someone in need. Your luxury won’t follow you to the grave—but your deeds will. If you’re the “success story” from your area, you’re now its chief developer. Build a school. Fund a clinic. Create jobs. Your hometown shouldn’t regress because you progressed.
This election season, as young Muslim candidates struggle without community support, ask yourself: What have I done to lift those who share my faith? When Muslim officials elevate others over qualified co-religionists, we must hold them accountable.
Don’t blame culture—Islam provides all the guidance we need. When we truly embrace Islamic principles of brotherhood, equality, and community welfare, these principles should transcend and transform any cultural tendencies that work against unity.
FINAL THOUGHTS
You weren’t blessed to be the only star—you were blessed to light the way for others.
Continue being the relative who hides when family needs help, the neighbor who ignores hunger, the “Muslim” who prioritizes designer life over Islamic duty—and watch how quickly those blessings turn to dust.
Or rise today. Pay your debts to your community. Fulfill your obligations to your faith.
The choice is yours. But remember—on Judgment Day, your relatives will testify against you. Your neighbors will bear witness. Your abandoned community will stand as evidence.
What will their testimony be?
