Faith & Doubt
1 min
I Left Islam at 19. I Came Back at 24.
It wasn't philosophy that pulled me away. It was anger. And it wasn't theology that brought me back. It was community.
Revert journeys. Identity struggles. Faith found, lost, and found again. Unfiltered voices from your brothers and sisters across the world.
In Egypt, a divorced woman is a tragedy. I decided to be a plot twist instead.
It wasn't philosophy that pulled me away. It was anger. And it wasn't theology that brought me back. It was community.
When the factory closed, our converted shop became the only institution that stayed — Muslim and non-Muslim alike.
I spent two decades arguing against God. Then quantum mechanics made me question everything.
At school I was too Muslim. At the mosque I was too Netherlands. I spent years feeling like I belonged nowhere.
Fasting while working 12-hour shifts in Wellington tested everything I thought I knew about community.
When the neighbourhood changed, our Islamic centre became the place everyone came to — Muslim and non-Muslim alike.
Everyone in my buddhist community thought I'd lost my mind. I'd never been more sane.
It wasn't atheism that pulled me away. It was loss. And it wasn't theology that brought me back. It was silence.
In Bangladesh, everyone assumed I was born Muslim. Actually, I found Islam at 20.
When the flood came, our community hall became the last line of defence — for everyone who needed it.
At school I was too Muslim. At the mosque I was too Nigeria. I spent years feeling like I belonged nowhere.
Fasting while working construction in Peshawar tested everything I thought I knew about patience.