Develop People: Advice to Community Servants (Part 3)
Prophets left legacies of people, not wealth; a true servant of the community values people over programs and love over achievements.
The prophets and messengers came with a mission. Some had great wealthy kingdoms while others left nothing, but their mission was always to call people to Allah. If boiled down to its core, that is helping them orient their lives in a way that is pleasing to God as articulated in the living tradition of His Prophet ﷺ—externally (in our actions and conduct), internally (in our thoughts and emotions), and spiritually. They used everything at their disposal to fulfill that mission and nothing else. Furthermore, what we remember of their legacy is not the riches or sociopolitical status and influence but rather the people who preserve their tradition until today. In essence, the mission of the prophets and righteous was to develop people.
As community servants, we are “dwarves standing on the shoulders of giants,” merely trying to follow in their footsteps. With the weightiness of this responsibility, who knows why anyone does it? That only emphasizes the importance of remembering our mission. In the programs and the classes we give, the events and the retreats we facilitate, the weddings and the funerals we perform, the counseling and the conversations we have, and the countless things no one imagines—everything is a means to an end. This is not to undermine the importance of organizations; they are integral for providing institutional backing and financial stability, but we mustn't forget that this is our primary responsibility. We build people.
I focused on an individual perspective in parts one and two of Advice to Community Servants. However, there comes a time in community service when you have to give back. In that case—perhaps because you’re now an elder in your community, you have a unique skill or knowledge, or Allah decreed that people look to you for mentorship—this paper seeks to provide a guiding mission and vision for your work.
Invest
After graduating from Umm al-Qura University, I relocated to Boston. I knew only three people in the entire state and had only previously met them briefly, but it didn’t matter. I wanted to serve under and learn specifically under Sh. Yasir Fahmy. While my relationship with him is well-documented, what isn’t is that after the first year, I started looking for another job.
It wasn’t Shaykh’s fault, of course. I was just returning to America; this was my first real job. He’s from New Jersey, stoic, and, in many ways, the polar opposite of twenty-seven-year-old me. Additionally, I needed him emotionally, and he definitely didn’t need me. He was like the Muslim equivalent of the Pope of Boston, and I couldn’t fully appreciate that. So, when Shaykh was busy trying to lay the foundation for our work, I felt neglected.
Somehow, Shaykh received news of my application for a youth director position at one of the suburban Masjids, and he confronted me about it. I don’t remember too much about that conversation other than that we were walking on the Harvard side of the Charles River on a cold fall day and that there were two takeaways: 1. Shaykh was disappointed in me for not speaking to him about my frustrations, and 2. He was committed to walking with me weekly.
Sh. Yasir’s walks around the Harvard campus were legendary, MashaAllah. But to get across town by 8:00 a.m., I had to leave my house no later than 7:15 a.m. Any later, and my forty-five-minute drive would nearly double. Back then, what I felt was a form of pre-modern torture is what I miss the most about Boston. It was on those three-plus-hour walks that the magic happened—where I built my relationship with Shaykh and, most importantly, where he shaped me.
Just as businesses require mission, vision, and value statements, community servants also need a structured plan. Our mission focuses on developing individuals, with the vision that these individuals will eventually exceed us. Achieving this depends on our value statement, which emphasizes providing scaffolding through emotional investment, dedicated time, and honesty.
Emotionally
Internal Feelings
Emotionally investing in people is twofold: how we feel about and treat them. So often, we forget about the first part, sufficing with superficial engagement. But people know. It’s palpable when someone is only kind to us out of obligation or formalities. This is why our faith is connected to our thoughts and feelings about our brothers and sisters. Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, “None of you truly believe until you love for your brother what you love for yourself.”1
Before we start investing in developing people, we must love them. True love is altruistic, not reciprocal or, worse, transactional. True love is self-sacrificing, prioritizing the other. As community servants, we should really sit with and interrogate our first-, second-, and third-order intentions to ensure we embody this prophetic ethic because that’s how he was ﷺ. He cared so much about the Ummah that Allah told him, “Perhaps you ˹O Prophet˺ will grieve yourself to death over their denial, if they ˹continue to˺ disbelieve in this message.”2 And if we cannot, if we cannot bring ourselves to love those we serve genuinely, love to see them better and, ultimately, their salvation, then we shouldn’t be in this work.3
External Treatment
Imam Al-Qushairi described three types of suhba: companionship with someone above us, below us, and a peer. Regarding someone below us, he said, “Companionship with someone below you requires that the follower be treated with compassion and kindness.”4 That isn’t to say we’re always soft and delicate. We must treat people in a way that reflects our love for them. Sometimes, that may be tough, but it should always be rooted in love.
When Sh. Yasir hired me he took a twenty-six-year-old dude with minimal work experience and went all in. He gambled the community's future on me, and while I knew that, I didn’t have the same level of commitment. As we started our walks together, I immediately felt more connected to Sh. Yasir, but I was still, as my mom would say, “Paying the fifty.” I was only halfway committed to the community.
I don’t think our walks ever followed a specific intellectual pedagogy. We just spent time together. Initially, we would meet for bagels and coffee and go for a walk, but it quickly evolved into a spontaneity—whatever Shaykh’s son wanted, if we needed coffee, or if there was someplace new on Harvard Yard we wanted to try. We spoke about everything too—school (I was in graduate school then), the religious tradition, and what was happening in the American Muslim community, life, and work.
I will never forget one day, on our way back to Shaykh’s old apartment, right next to Blue Bottle Coffee, we crossed the street. Shaykh told me sternly, “Abdul-Malik, maybe being an Imam isn’t for you. You should look for a secretary job in some place Islam is adjacent.” It broke my heart and blew my mind all at once.
The drive home after this walk was a haze. I was on autopilot, lost, trying to process the information I had just received. “Did I spend nearly a decade studying and leave everyone and everything behind coming to Boston to be told I wasn’t good enough?!” But then something clicked. Of course, I didn’t. I had to change my ways.
Shaykh doesn’t recall that day, but when I asked him about it years later, he confirmed that I needed tough love. He used reverse psychology to get me to wake up and commit myself to community work. Because of my position, we didn’t have time to waste.
This approach may not work for everyone and definitely shouldn’t be the one we lead with, but what I appreciated was that Shaykh Yasir cared about my well-being (albeit using a bit of reverse psychology). That’s all most people need: someone they respect and who is genuinely invested in their well-being. How many people are hurt, and perhaps even turned away from religion altogether, simply because someone in a place of religious authority mistreated them?
As I mentioned in the first Advice for Community Servants, “Mustafa Davis told me in 2015, ‘True leaders are the shepherds who never abandon their flock. They protect and care for their flock, never ridiculing, condemning, or exploiting them. That is the work of wolves. Wolves are dangerous, as they are only concerned with themselves. They aren't true leaders.’"
Allah protect us all.
Time
Whenever I think about anything Allah has blessed me to posess, it’s unquestionably because of the people who graciously gave me time—Pre-Makkah, Abdus-Samad Beard hung out and masjid hopped with teenage me; in Makkah, Imam Farhan Siddiqui taught me how to budget my money and not whine so much in Makkah, Mu’taz pushed to think independently in religious issues, Mustafa Davis was my big brother and impacted me in more ways than I can count; and Post-Makkah: Hajjah Ashaki prepared me for grad school, Dr. Fernando Ona saw and pushed me academically, and, of course, Sh. Yasir Fahmy.
Unfortunately, because we all want the quick-fix solution, tarbiya is only impactful when administered over time; therefore, we must be patient and make ourselves available and accessible. If people believe you love and care for them but cannot get time with you, it doesn’t do them much good in their growth and development. While everyone’s role in the community differs, the demographic you’ve been entrusted with should know how and where they can have time with you.5
You can mitigate this in two ways: formally and informally. If you have consistent formal office hours, whether scheduled or unscheduled, people will build trust and know where to find you. The easier it is, the better. I find it ideal to give people a link where they can pick from an array of appointments at their convenience. I don’t have to go back and forth with them, and I have their contact information to communicate with them if need be.
That said, many of the connections and benefits happen in informal, unscheduled meetings. While I spoke extensively about my scheduled walks, I learned so much nuance from Sh. Yasir in the unscheduled times. Sometimes, I sneaked into his office between meetings, watched him after Jummah stood in the middle of the Musalla giving Salams and fielding questions, or dived into him somewhere. None of that could have happened if he had been closed off and uninviting.
I remember once in the early days, I was driving Shaykh somewhere and started talking about generational wealth. He listened patiently, and when I finished speaking, he said, “I don’t know about that. Wealth is important, and ensuring our families are cared for is also important, but we should think about that more.” He didn’t fully critique my opinion or provide his own, but his pause caused me to think about the concept differently. Al-Humdulillah, we had many conversations about money and wealth over the years, but that one stands out and is something I will return to seven years later.
Not everyone will be comfortable setting up an appointment; some things need to happen organically. Find a time and place, ideally when you will have access to the most considerable amount of your demographic in one place (e.g., before and after programs), and loiter. Just hang out with a welcoming disposition (e.g., keep the door open or purposely hand or in the common area), and people will passively find ways to connect with you.
Honesty
Once you find your people, those who, for some reason or another, you’re drawn to, or they’re drawn to you, be generous with your time and lean in. But that means we know what we offer and never go beyond that point. As previously mentioned in Identifying a Mentor: A Guiding Framework, “You cannot give what you don’t have.” So, if you don’t have any experience or knowledge in counseling, don’t do it, and if you haven’t studied fiqh, don’t give rulings.
Staying in our lane does not reduce our value; it gives us principled boundaries. It ensures we fulfill our amanah (trust) of religious authority and leadership with as much Ihsan (spiritual excellence) as possible. Furthermore, it establishes trust with the community. They will know and respect that you were vulnerable enough to say, “I don’t know, but I can try to find out.” It also allows us to focus on our niche area of interest and deepen our expertise there.
“The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, although both are good. Strive for that which will benefit you, seek the help of Allah, and do not feel helpless. If anything befalls you, do not say, "If only I had done such and such." Rather, say, "Qaddara Allahu wa ma sha'a fa'ala (Allah has decreed, and whatever he wills, He does)." For (saying) 'If' opens (the door) to the deeds of Satan."6
–Prophet Muhammad ﷺ
Empower
Our initial investment in people provides the foundational scaffolding that allows us to begin empowering them. Those we serve will never be better than us if they aren’t empowered to challenge themselves for growth and improvement.
When I first met Sh. Yasir, I was very insecure. I knew that my traditional studies were anything but conventional. I didn’t memorize a lot of texts or earn Ijazas (certificates), but I did graduate Al-Humdulillah. So, when he asked me how I was interested in serving the community, I was honest, “If you’re looking for someone to give fatawa (religious verdicts), I am not your guy. That said, I deeply care about people, particularly the disenfranchised, Black people, and the incarcerated.” He responded with the statement of Umar b. Abdul-Aziz (d. 101/720), “May Allah have mercy on a man who knows his place.”7
Empowering people is challenging because it requires recognizing and honoring where they are and where they want to go. Until today, Sh. Yasir has never pushed me to pursue additional training in Fiqh (law) or Usool Al-Fiqh (legal theory) because he knows that’s not my primary interest. But, whenever I show interest in something, like graduate school or writing, he constantly challenges me and pushes me to go deeper and be better.
We cannot empower people if we don’t first love them. We must learn what interests them, what they’re good at, and their capacity to achieve it. Perhaps right now isn’t feasible, and that’s alright. Just like we are unable to metamorphize instantaneously, neither can others. We must remain patient with others, more than we would like others to be with us while ensuring they know a mistake won’t sever our relationship. We will accompany them, to the best of our ability, in times of good and bad.
“Verily, Satan is a wolf amongst humanity like the wolf who seizes the sheep, wandering and straying from the flock. Beware of the winding mountain paths. You must stay with the wider community.”8
–Prophet Muhammad ﷺ
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I was blessed to serve Sh. Yasir Fahmy and the Boston Muslim community for five years. Had I not been blessed with that opportunity, I have no clue where or what I would be doing. He invested in me and then empowered me to explore the things I was interested in. But none of that could have happened in isolation. It was only possible because we were embedded in a community.
When I say “community,” I mean the people, not the organizations or physical buildings. A community is a group of people who have come together around a shared purpose or vision. In our postmodern society, the word has lost its original meaning and has shifted from being a group of people to legal structures (e.g., organizations and institutions). This philosophical shift changes how the administrators interact with the community and, in turn, how the community interacts with them. If it gets big enough, or there are sufficient impediments over time, eventually, the community will view its corporatized organizations capitalistically. Their entire relationship with religious organizations will be to attend programs and receive services without any sense of allegiance or investment. In the free market of religious services, whoever has the best (or coolest) program will get their service.
While I plan to write about this more, InshaAllah (God-willing), nevertheless, what is important in developing people is that we can embed people in a healthy community and around people with similar values. Even if that organized community space doesn’t exist, perhaps we can help facilitate connecting people to others who may. This will allow them to practice their work while providing social support and encouragement.
Having the largest mosque in New England (like I had) is unnecessary when trying to foster community. Sometimes, you must create interest-specific groups within existing organizations that serve their needs, which is required when serving others. None of the initiatives I currently lead in my community came from me. Every single one of them—“Rijaal” (a weekly men’s support group), “Towards the Hereafter” (a weekly Halaqa on Tazkiya Al-Nafs), or “Lattes&Lit” (a bi-weekly book club)—came from a someone asking for a specific program and then community grew from it organically.
Conclusion
At its heart, developing others is a labor of love, grounded in faith and driven by sincerity. It is about seeing the potential in people and walking alongside them as they grow, trusting in Allah’s wisdom and timing. It requires patience, sacrifice, and an unshakable belief that even small efforts, when done with sincerity, can lead to profound transformation.
This work is not about recognition or results we can see—it is about planting seeds, nurturing hearts, and trusting that Allah will bring forth the fruit. It reminds us that true success is not found in what we achieve for ourselves but in the light, we help others carry forward. May Allah guide our steps, purify our intentions, and make us vessels of His mercy. Ameen.
Ultimately, with Allah is all success.
Quran 18:6.
This does not mean nor necessitate that we are friends with those we serve either. It doesn’t even mean we will enjoy their company or disposition. But, when we love someone, we can put their needs above ours. And, if we cannot, we should strive to direct them to those who will. It also doesn’t mean that we allow ourselves to be abused or our boundaries to be broken. Our love and service must be principled and consistent. Without that, it ceases to be love and teeters into abuse. We must watch carefully for this as well because it typically is not something that happens suddenly; rather, it is subtle and incremental.
The entire quote is, “Companionship can be of three kinds: companionship with someone who stands above you [in rank]; this is but service (khidma). [The second type is] companionship with someone who is below you; it requires that the follower be treated with compassion and kindness and the one who is followed to be treated with compliance and respect. [And the third type is] the companionship of peers and equals, which rests on giving preference [to them over yourself] (ithar) and spiritual chivalry.” See Al-Qushayri, Abu ‘Al-Qasim. Al-Qushayri's Epistle on Sufism: Al-Risala Al Qushayriyya Fi 'ilm Al-Tasawwuf. Trans. Alexander D. Kynsh. Suhail Academy Lahore, Pakistan: Kazi Publications, 2011. 303.
Gender is something everyone should take into consideration. For people of the opposite gender, we should be far more careful than with people of the same. In addition to the Shariah mandates, we must consider how our interaction will affect our hearts and theirs, hedging to protect both. Furthermore, we must consider both parties' reputations. Even if something may be technically permissible (e.g., sitting in a room alone with a woman despite the door having a window and people walking by), it may not be acceptable within the community’s culture. It can cause unnecessary negative attention and distract you from the service you’re trying to provide.
Thanks for writing this. May Allah bless this effort. I usually scan through the first few lines of long articles, then decided whether to continue reading. I couldn't stop reading this till the last word. Lots of gems in this article.
Very inspiring and insightful.