In a quiet village tucked within the gentle hills of Uganda, where time seems to pause and the earth wears the sun like a familiar shawl, lived an elderly woman named Nalwanga Meere.
At 96 years of age, her body had grown frail, her legs long retired from wandering. But her spirit—unbent by the years—remained alert, holding within it a silent longing that had never quite faded: the longing for truth.
For nearly a century, Nalwanga had lived by what she knew, her days shaped by tradition, her nights cradled by memory. But something within her remained unfulfilled—an unanswered question that time alone could not silence.
Then, one afternoon, visitors arrived.
They came humbly, with hearts full of compassion and voices steady with conviction. They were du’āts—Islamic outreach workers from iERA Uganda—on a mission to share a light that transcends age and background: the message of Islam. Sitting beside her in her modest home, they began to speak—not with pressure or pride, but with love and sincerity. They spoke of the Oneness of Allah, the Creator and Sustainer of all that exists. They described Islam not as something foreign, but as a return to the purest connection between Creator and creation.
Nalwanga listened.
Her eyes, worn by time, held a spark of cautious curiosity. Then, with a voice both weathered and wise, she asked:
“How can you expect me to accept a religion I have never followed? My life is nearly over. What use is it now?”
The du’āts did not flinch. They responded with gentleness, their words chosen with care.
“Dear Mother,” they said, “Islam is the truth for all times and all people. The door to Allah’s mercy is never closed. Even if you accept Islam today, and your soul meets Him tomorrow, He will forgive your past completely and reward you with Paradise. It is not too late—not for anyone, not ever.”
For a moment, the room was still. The weight of a lifetime hung in the air.
Then came her reply—quiet, but firm, born from the deepest place in her heart:
“All my life, I’ve searched for a way to be saved from Hellfire. If this is the path to salvation, then I accept. I want to become Muslim.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she repeated the Shahadah, the testimony of faith.
“Ashhadu an la ilaha illa Allah, wa ashhadu anna Muhammadur Rasulullah.”
“I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.”
In that sacred moment, the nearly century-long journey of Nalwanga Meere found its answer. She was no longer the same. She had become Mariam—a believer, a Muslim, and a woman whose heart now carried the light of divine truth.
Mariam’s story is not only remarkable—it is profoundly beautiful. It reminds us that guidance is not bound by age, that the door of repentance never closes, and that Allah’s mercy reaches further than we can imagine.
At 96, she was not beginning the end of her story—she was beginning the most important chapter. With a heart at peace and a soul washed clean, she faced the final stretch of life not with fear, but with faith.
May Allah grant Mariam steadfastness, forgive her past, and welcome her into the gardens of eternal peace.
Indeed, it is never too late to turn toward the light.
