The mosque was quiet. Umar ibn al-Khattab, the second caliph, was seated among the congregation, deep in thought, when someone brushed past him. An onlooker leaned in, breaking the silence.
“Commander of the Faithful,” he whispered, nodding towards the figure who had just passed, “do you know who that is?”
Umar looked up. “No. Who is he?”
“That’s Sawad ibn Qarib,” the man replied. “A nobleman from Yemen—the one who learned of the Prophet’s ﷺ arrival from the jinn.”
Umar’s eyes widened. “From the jinn? Call him here.”
Moments later, Sawad was brought before Umar, who examined him with keen interest. “Are you Sawad ibn Qarib?”
“Yes,” Sawad replied, his gaze steady.
“Is it true,” Umar pressed, “that you received word of the Prophet’s ﷺ coming from the jinn?”
Sawad nodded, but he seemed unsettled. “It’s true, yes.”
Umar looked at him thoughtfully. “Tell me, then—were you a soothsayer?” Sawad’s expression changed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.
“Commander of the Faithful,” he replied firmly, “since I embraced Islam, no one has questioned me about my past.”
Umar smiled, his tone softening. “SubhanAllah, Sawad. We all have our stories. I myself was once entangled in beliefs much worse than soothsaying. Tell me what happened that night.”
Sawad hesitated, as though weighing the significance of what he was about to reveal. But finally, he began, and as he spoke, the entire congregation seemed to lean in, captivated.
“It was late one night. I was alone, fast asleep. Suddenly, I felt something nudge my foot.” Sawad paused, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I looked around, but saw no one.”
He continued, “And then, a voice—soft but urgent—filled the air around me, saying:
‘Awaken, Sawad. Listen and understand. A Messenger has arisen, calling to Allah and His worship—a Messenger from the descendants of Lu’ayy ibn Ghalib.’
Before I could even process what was happening, the voice began reciting a poem:
‘The jinn are filled with wonder at this, and with longing,
They ride toward Makkah, seeking guidance.
Among them, the noblest are unlike the worst.
Prepare yourself, Sawad, to witness the pure one from the line of Hashim.”
Sawad looked away, lost in memory. “But that night, I shrugged it off as nothing but a strange dream.”
“And then?” Umar asked, unable to mask his curiosity.
“The next night,” Sawad continued, “the same thing happened. A nudge, a voice, and the same verses. And still, I ignored it, thinking it must be some trick of my mind.”
Sawad’s voice grew softer. “But the third night…the third night, the voice came again, and this time, my heart stirred in a way I couldn’t deny. By morning, I was resolved. I mounted my camel and headed straight for Makkah. Yet, on the way, I learned that the Prophet ﷺ had migrated to Madinah. So, I changed course and rode until I reached Madinah, until I found him.”
Sawad’s voice shook with reverence as he recounted his first sight of the Prophet ﷺ. “I entered the mosque, and there he was. He looked at me, and his gaze felt like it reached deep into my soul.”
“What did you say?” Umar asked.
Sawad paused, the memory fresh, as though he was back in that moment. “I told him, ‘I have come to bear witness that there is no god but Allah and that you are His Messenger.’ And then I recited a poem I had composed on the way, declaring my faith and pledging my loyalty to him.”
As Sawad’s words echoed through the mosque, Umar and the others sat in awed silence. After a moment, Umar stood, embracing Sawad. “What an incredible journey,” he said. “Tell me, do the jinn still visit you?”
Sawad smiled, a calm peace in his expression. “No. Since I began reciting the Qur’an, they no longer come. For what could be greater than the Qur’an?”
The congregation nodded in silent agreement, and Umar’s heart swelled with gratitude for the profound faith that had brought them all together.
