I want to take a moment to draw back the curtain, to share a bit of my journey and the landscapes that have shaped me into who I am today. I want to sketch out the blueprint of an organization I envision—a sanctuary that can offer healing and growth to our aching society.

My roots begin in Calgary. As the son of an Imam, my world, even at the age of 7, revolved around the rhythmic cadence of the Quran. I became an impromptu tutor, aiding other kids as they navigated through this sacred script. Our family hosted classes many times each week, and each was a vibrant mosaic of Islamic backgrounds and ethnicities, a melting pot that brewed friendships and connections. It was my first brush with the community, and its warmth left a deep imprint on me.

At 12, my brother and I found ourselves transported to an "Islamic School" nestled in the lush valleys of the Fraser River in Hope, BC. The objective, and the well-intentioned hope of my parents, was to memorize the Quran among the other 30 - 50 children at the campus. But our education bore no semblance of the nurturing environment I’d come to cherish in Calgary.

Here, instruction was doled out not with kindness but fear, with corporal punishment rather than gentle guidance or an appreciation of the content and teachings of what we were expected to memorize. The classrooms became our cages for nearly nine gruelling hours each day. The student dynamics mirrored the cruel landscape of Lord of the Flies—each child a castaway, lost, battling for a foothold in the school hierarchy. I was bullied relentlessly, as I was new to the school, and it broke me down each and every day.

The situation of one specific child, Bilal, will always be burned in my memory. He would have different bruises and gashes each time I would see him. many from students and some from the instructors. He was often the center of verbal abuse too, I remember seeing him weep for hours sitting across from me in the classroom.

Reflecting on that time now, I shudder to think of the person I could have become had I succumbed to that environment. It was a place devoid of the essence of the religion we were meant to embody—there was no love for the faith, no teachings of compassion or empathy for fellow beings. The institution's only purpose seemed to be the unyielding pursuit of Quran memorization, devoid of any understanding or interpretation of its messages.

The school disregarded the spiritual wisdom and ethical teachings encapsulated in those verses, choosing instead to instill a pervasive fear in us—a fear of the consequences if we failed to memorize. And so, we were left bereft of the Quran's actual teachings, learning only to recite without understanding and to fear the repercussions of failure.

That school broke me in ways I'm still learning to mend. Even now, I find it mind-boggling that such a setting was viewed as acceptable. How could anyone, let alone the so-called "teachers" entrusted with our growth and learning, permit such an environment to persist? That stunning lack of awareness, coupled with a complete disregard for accountability, leaves me astounded. It was as if they had pulled a veil over their eyes, becoming blind to the stark reality of the situation—a reality that, even as a young boy, was alarmingly clear to me. Their willful ignorance left a deep impression, a stark reminder of what happens when those in positions of authority abdicate their responsibilities.

Emerging from that environment, my next hurdle was high school—a leap into the conventional world from my homeschooled upbringing. The threads of Islamic tradition that had woven my identity felt alien and out of place in this new tapestry. A childhood cocooned in a devoutly religious and sheltered environment had set me apart. Interactions that came naturally to others—making friends, idle chatter, or simply existing in a space buzzing with adolescent energy—were a labyrinth to me. I was trapped within the confines of my own mind, grappling with a darkness that would later reveal itself as severe depression and anxiety. .

Merely a month after slipping out of my graduation gown, I found myself boarding a plane bound for Mauritania. The purpose? To immerse myself in the ancient art of Quran study at a "Mahdhara"—a prospect as terrifying as it was exhilarating. Yet, I was not alone in this leap of faith. My younger brother, with his admirable courage, had already blazed this trail a year prior, creating a welcoming path for me to tread on.

I devoted almost five enriching years to Mauritania, the majority of it absorbed in the contemplative silence of the Mahdhara. However, my journey did not stop at the school's boundaries. I traversed the landscape, engaging with different schools, residing in the vibrant capital city, and experiencing the warm hospitality of my gracious hosts.

In a twist of fortunate events, I found myself serving the local community—contributing to international initiatives that provided hearing aids and glasses to those in need. As I watched their faces light up with gratitude, I knew these experiences were reshaping me, brick by brick.

I remember one sweltering day, processing hearing aid data for 400 patients, when a wave of happiness washed over me. It was a potent, joyful realization—my work was fulfilling in a way nothing else had been.

The Mahdhara, despite its hardships—sickness, scarcity, and isolation—offered an unparalleled human experience. I was learning from giants of knowledge and character, men who had devoted their lives to teaching Islamic law, the Quran, and Hadith. I also encountered visitors from all corners of the world, bringing with them fresh ideas and perspectives.

The seeds of my vision were sown in that desert soil—an inclusive hub, inspired by the Mahdhara and shaped by experiences from visitors and locals. The unity and coexistence I saw in the town of Maatamaulana added to the blueprint of a place where all could flourish together.

Fast forward to my return to Canada and my subsequent years in retail. For the next four years, I immersed myself in the bustling world of retail, conversing with a diverse sea of faces from every walk of life. Amidst this, my weekends remained tethered to the Quran as I hosted classes for eager students.

It was here that I became witness to the cracks beneath the surface.

We have families splintered by pain. We have youths feeling adrift in a world they cannot comprehend. We have individuals caught up in the relentless grind of survival, their lives devoid of the pleasure of truly living. We have an eroding sense of empathy, as personal struggles blind us to the suffering of others. Our children stand disconnected from the rich tapestry of their cultural heritage. We see religion being manipulated and distorted, the quest for prosperity becoming an unending, soulless pursuit. The barrage of negativity from all corners, escalating living costs, the looming climate crisis, and erratic political landscapes—all condensed into the handheld screens that consume our waking hours.

We crave sanctuary. We yearn for a lifeline, irrespective of religious affiliation. As a Muslim by upbringing and choice, I aspire to leverage my experience and wisdom to establish programs for my fellow Muslims. Yet, I don't wish to restrict my efforts to a single community. We are bound by our shared humanity, navigating the same world, ensnared in the same traffic snarls, queuing in the same Costco lines. Let's unite to construct a haven that can serve us all.

The mosaic of my life has been shaped by a rich blend of experiences, each leaving an indelible imprint and nurturing a wellspring of insights. The intense Quranic schooling that stifled curiosity, but also underscored the importance of education and perseverance. The isolated world of homeschooling, contrasted starkly by my later entry into a bustling high school—each environment highlighting the nuances of social interaction and empathy. The intense struggle with anxiety and depression, which showcased the need for mental health support and self-discovery. My journey to Mauritania, which magnified the transformative power of stepping outside one's comfort zone, and the undeniable reward of serving others.

These experiences have formed an intricate tapestry, providing me with a unique understanding of the human condition, a deeper appreciation for empathy and compassion, and a steadfast dedication to education and service. This insight will be the driving force behind my new organization, fueling its purpose and defining its mission.

With this organization, I aspire to create a sanctuary, a beacon of hope in a world often fraught with chaos and confusion. It will be a place where compassion takes center stage, where cultural heritage is celebrated and embraced, and where people can escape the relentless pursuit of the next paycheck to focus on truly living.

Our mission will not be limited to serving one particular group. As my life experiences have taught me, we are all interconnected. We all yearn for understanding, connection, and a sense of purpose. Whether stuck in the same traffic jams or navigating the shared corridors of a Costco store, we are all journeying through the maze of life together.