At thirty-eight, Frank was a man familiar with hard labor. He was dusty and weary when he walked in from his garden work, his mind already turning toward the false comfort he usually sought at the end of a day. It was at this moment, just as the sun began to dip, that the iERA Uganda outreach specialists approached him.
Frank, obliging and curious, sat with them. The duats began to gently articulate the beauty of Tawhid—the oneness of God—explaining the singular purpose of human life. As the message of purity and devotion washed over him, Frank immediately addressed the elephant in his life: his dependency on alcohol.
“What you’re saying is good,” Frank admitted, his gaze troubled, “but I have been addicted to drinking. Why is it that Islam doesn’t allow alcohol?”
The duats listened with empathy and responded not with judgment, but with logic and mercy. They explained that God prohibited alcohol because of its countless accomplices—the sins, the disrespect, and the chaos it breeds. They spoke of how alcohol puts people utterly out of their minds, robbing them of their ability to reason and choose good.
They continued, highlighting how alcohol makes drunkards lazy and causes them to fail in their essential work, compromising their provision. Furthermore, they described alcohol as a devil’s mind, a destructive influence that leads to strife and disrespect, particularly poisoning the atmosphere for children who need guidance and security.
Finally, they brought the lesson back to his original creation. “God created mankind to worship him, Frank,” one of the duats said softly. “And you simply cannot worship if you are drunk; your mind must be clear to connect with your Creator.”
These words resonated deep within Frank’s soul, cutting through the mental fog that years of addiction had created. He saw the path of clarity laid out before him, a path where his labor was blessed and his mind was sound. With tears of realization, Frank declared that he would not drink again.
In that simple, profound moment, he accepted the truth, embraced Islam, and took his Shahada. Thirty-eight-year-old Frank shed his old identity along with his addiction and adopted the name Mutwalib—the one who answers the call. His journey into faith began not with a grand mosque visit, but with a firm commitment in the setting sun, trading the transient escape of the bottle for the eternal promise of belief.
