It was the eleventh year after the Hijrah — the year the Prophet ﷺ departed this world.

With his passing, leadership fell to Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq (RA), and with it, a tidal wave of crises. Among the most perilous was the sudden wave of ridda — apostasy — that swept through the Arabian Peninsula. Entire tribes renounced Islam. Others, while still claiming allegiance, refused to pay zakāh, the obligatory alms. A few even claimed prophethood.

Ibn ʿUmar would later recall: “When the Messenger of God ﷺ left us, the masks began to fall. Hypocrisy revealed itself in Madinah, and across the deserts, Arabs began turning away from Islam. Abū Bakr immediately summoned the Muhājirūn and the Anṣār for consultation.”

Abū Bakr stood among them, the weight of the ummah on his shoulders: “The Arabs are refusing to give their zakāh — not even the rope with which they once tied their animals. What do we do? I am but one among you. Speak your minds.”

Silence fell.

Then ʿUmar stood and offered his view: “O Khalīfah of the Messenger of Allah, let your focus be on prayer for now. As for zakāh — leave it for the time being. Most of these people are new to Islam. Perhaps Allah will soften their hearts. We’ll gain strength, and then we can fight them. But to confront all of Arabia with just the Muhājirūn and Anṣār? I don’t see how that’s possible.”

Abū Bakr listened. He turned to ʿUthmān. His opinion was the same. He looked to ʿAlī. He, too, did not differ. The others echoed similar hesitations.

Then Abū Bakr’s expression changed. He ascended the minbar, praised Allah, and declared: “Allah sent Muhammad ﷺ with the truth and Islam. Now, some seek to break away from it. They say they will not pay zakāh. By Allah, even if they withhold a rope they once gave to the Prophet ﷺ, I will fight them for it — until my soul departs. Prayer and zakāh were mentioned together in the Book of Allah. I will not separate what Allah has joined.”

ʿUmar leapt to his feet, tears in his eyes, and shouted takbīr. He retracted his earlier stance and pledged full support. The others followed.

This was Abū Bakr at his peak — unwavering, unshaken, and divinely guided.

One of the Prophet’s ﷺ final commands before his passing had been to send out a military expedition under Usāmah ibn Zayd. The Prophet ﷺ died before it could depart. But Abū Bakr, firm in his resolve, made it the first act of his caliphate. Ibn ʿUmar was among those who marched.

Then came the Battle of Yamāmah — against Musaylimah the Liar, the false prophet from the Banū Ḥanīfah tribe. He led an army of 40,000. Tribal loyalty ran deep, and Musaylimah had used it well. Some even said: “Musaylimah may be a liar, and Muhammad ﷺ the true prophet — but I prefer the liar of Rabīʿah to the truthful one from Muḍar.”

Such was the tribal poison.

Ibn ʿUmar fought fiercely in that battle, yearning for martyrdom. But destiny had other plans.

He recalled: “As we lined up for battle, the first to be struck was Abū Ukhayl al-Anfī. An arrow pierced between his chest and shoulder — but it missed his vital organs. He was taken to a tent to recover. Meanwhile, the battle raged, and the Muslims began to falter.”

Retreat seemed imminent. As fighters fled, they passed by the tent where Abū Ukhayl lay wounded. From inside, he heard the chaos, and then the voice of Maʿn ibn ʿAdiyy shouting: “O Ansār! O people of Allah! Turn back toward the enemy!”

Ibn ʿUmar continued: “Hearing that, Abū Ukhayl stirred. I asked him, ‘What are you doing? You are exempt.’ But he said, ‘He’s calling for the Ansār — and I am one of them. Even if I’m wounded, I must answer.’ He picked up his sword in his right hand, limping toward the frontlines.”

He shouted: “O Ansār! Return as you did at Ḥunayn!”

The tide turned. The Muslims regrouped, fought back with fiery resolve, and engaged the enemy with renewed force.

Ibn ʿUmar said: “I saw Abū Ukhayl in the thick of battle. His right arm had been severed. Fourteen wounds marked his body. And there, beside him, lay the corpse of Musaylimah the Liar. As I approached, Abū Ukhayl, near death, looked at me and asked, ‘Who is wounded?’ I told him, ‘Rejoice — the enemy of Allah has been slain.’ He lifted his hand skyward, praised Allah, and passed away.”

Ibn ʿUmar later told his father what had happened. ʿUmar replied: “May Allah have mercy on Abū Ukhayl. He longed for martyrdom — and he received it. He was among the earliest believers in the Prophet’s ﷺ time.”

Ibn ʿUmar also remembered another scene — ʿAmmār ibn Yāsir, standing atop a rock in the middle of the battle, crying out: “O Muslims! Will you flee from Paradise? Come to me — I am ʿAmmār ibn Yāsir!”

Ibn ʿUmar saw him — bloodied, his ear severed and hanging — yet still fighting, unshaken.

His own uncle, Saʿīd ibn al-Khaṭṭāb, was martyred that day.

When Ibn ʿUmar returned safe, his father asked: “So… Saʿīd has gone before you. And you still live. What happened to you?”

Ibn ʿUmar answered: “He was chosen for martyrdom. Allah honored him with that station. I too longed for it — but it was not written for me. What could I have done?”

And so he lived — not as one untouched by the fire, but as one who walked in its glow, carrying the memory of those who fell, with longing in his heart and their names on his tongue.