There will come a day when the earth will be rolled up, when the oceans will boil, when the sky will split, and every single soul will stand before its Lord. On that day there will be no titles, no excuses, no microphones, no social media to distract us. We will stand bare, with nothing but our deeds in front of us.
And the question will come.
What did you do when Palestine was bleeding?
It will not matter what job you had, what position you held, or how many people liked your posts. The question will not be about how often you said “Free Palestine” on your tongue, but what you carried in your hands. Did you act? Did you sacrifice? Did you move your body, your wealth, your energy, to protect the lives of children who were slaughtered before your very eyes?
I can say I raised millions. I can say I organized. I can say I stood outside embassies. I can say I worked with the free people of the world. Yet I know in my heart that none of this will be enough as an answer. Because the truth is that even after all this, I will still be speechless on that day. I will not have an answer worthy of Allah’s court.
Why?
Because the children who died were not my own.
This is the hardest truth. If it had been my son buried under rubble, if it had been my daughter starving without food, I would not have slept. I would not have rested. I would have screamed until my voice broke, I would have fought until my last breath, I would have demanded justice with a fire that could not be ignored.
But because they were not my children, I did not move like that.
I protested, but not as if my own house was burning. I donated, but not as if my own child was hungry. I raised awareness, but not as if my own daughter’s blood was staining the ground.
This is the bitter reality we must face. We can tell ourselves they are our brothers and sisters. We can say “the children of Palestine are our children.” Yet if we measure our actions, if we measure our urgency, we must admit that we did not treat them like our own. That is why we did not fight as if the house was ours. That is why we did not pressure leaders with the weight we would have carried if our own child was in that grave.
And on the Day of Judgment, Allah will not accept our excuses.
The Quran says:
“And fear a Day when you will be returned to Allah. Then every soul will be fully compensated for what it earned, and they will not be wronged.” (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:281)
On that day, we will be asked.
Did you give from your wealth? Did you speak when silence was easier? Did you push back when injustice was normalized? Did you love those children enough to sacrifice your comfort, your schedule, your energy? Or did you remain a spectator, convincing yourself that your posts and your prayers alone were enough?
Imagine for a moment that it was your child. Imagine the rubble crushing their small body. Imagine the sound of their voice calling out “Baba, Mama, help me” as the air grows thinner. Imagine their hunger, their thirst, their fear. What would you do?
You would tear down walls. You would scream until governments shook. You would burn through every resource you have. You would not stop.
Now realize that every single Palestinian child is a test for us. Do we see them as ours? Or do we see them as theirs?
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, “The believers are like one body. When one part suffers, the whole body feels the pain.” If my finger is cut, my entire body reacts. If my tooth aches, I cannot sleep. Yet when Gaza is bombed, do we truly feel the pain in our chest? Or have our hearts become numb?
This numbness is dangerous. It allows us to witness genocide and still scroll to the next video. It allows us to see starving children and still complain about food portions. It allows us to witness entire families erased from the earth and still go about our lives as if nothing happened.
The Day of Judgment will expose this numbness. Allah will ask, “Where were you when My servants cried out? Where were you when My earth was filled with injustice? Where were you when you had the ability to act but chose not to?”
And what will we say?
I know my own answer will not be enough. And that terrifies me.
So what can we do?
We must begin by waking our hearts. Do not watch news about Palestine like it is entertainment. Let your heart break. Let your eyes cry. Let yourself feel the pain you would feel if it were your own child. Because when the heart feels, the body follows.
Then act. Act with your voice. Speak even if people dislike it. Act with your wealth. Give until it hurts. Act with your time. Organize, support, pressure, educate. If you cannot go to embassies, then flood the channels available to you. If you cannot stand in the streets, then stand in front of Allah in prayer every single night, asking Him to give victory to the oppressed and to hold the oppressors accountable.
But do not be silent. Do not be passive. Do not let your life pass by without carrying the weight of this cause.
Because if you do, you will stand on that Day with nothing to say.
And that silence will destroy you.
This is not about politics. This is about accountability before Allah. It is about whether we lived as part of one Ummah or whether we lived as isolated individuals. It is about whether our hearts were alive or whether they were dead.
My brothers and sisters, we do not need to wait for governments. We do not need to wait for leaders. Every one of us has a role. Some of us can raise funds. Some of us can write. Some of us can speak. Some of us can organize. Some of us can comfort the families of martyrs. Some of us can pressure politicians. Some of us can teach our children the truth so that the next generation never forgets.
Every single one of us can do something. And every single one of us will be asked.
So ask yourself today: When Allah asks me about Palestine, what will I say?
Will I stand in silence? Or will I be able to say, “Ya Allah, I tried. I gave. I spoke. I pushed. I did not stay still while Your children were slaughtered.”
Make sure that when that Day comes, your tongue does not freeze. Make sure your record has something written on it. Make sure your heart beats with the pain of the Ummah.
Because this is not about them. It is about us. It is about who we are before Allah.
And that Day is coming.
