The Victory Boys. Jamal Orme
The Victory Boys
Jamal Orme
THE ISLAMIC FOUNDATION
Published by
THE ISLAMIC FOUNDATION
Markfield Conference Centre, Ratby Lane, Markfield
Leicestershire, LE67 9SY, United Kingdom
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.islamic-foundation.com
Quran House, P.O. BOX 30611, Nairobi, Kenya
P.M.B. 3193, Kano, Nigeria
Distributed by
KUBE PUBLISHING LTD
Tel +44 (01530) 249230, Fax +44 (01530) 249656
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.kubepublishing.com
Text copyright © Jamal Orme 2011/1432 H
Artwork copyright © Kube Publishing
The moral right of the author has been asserted
All rights reserved
Author Jamal
Editors Yosef Smyth and Fatima D’Oyen
Illustrator Eman Salem
Typesetter Nasir Cadir
Cover design Stan Ivanchev
Coordinator Anwar Cara
A Cataloguing-in-Publication Data record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-0-86037-414-5
Dedication
For God, eternal gratitude for any good in what I say;
And for my parents, who’ve encouraged me since Archimedes’ day.
Contents
5. ‘Imam Munieb’s Going to Start a What?!’
10. Coach Saleem’s Masterstroke
1. The Boys Hatch a Plan
‘Innahu kaana tawwabaa,’ chorused the children lazily.
Imam Munieb pushed his glasses to the top of his nose and scanned the room.
‘Who can tell us the meaning of Surah al-Nasr,’ he demanded.
A solitary hand shot into the air.
Mashallah, thought the Imam. You can always rely on Abdullah.
‘Only Abdullah?’ he growled.
All of the eyes in the room lowered. The children had the feeling that Imam Munieb was glaring directly at them, but not one of them dared to look up. It could be fatal.
‘Subhanallah!’ barked the Imam. ‘This is one of the shortest, yet most important surahs in the whole of the Noble Qur’an! And once again, we must rely on clearly the most important student in the room to tell us its meaning!’
Abdullah straightened himself in his chair and cleared his throat.
‘Subhanallah,’ repeated Imam Munieb, with resignation in his voice. ‘Tafadl, ya Abdullah. Please tell us.’
‘Well,’ began Abdullah, who enjoyed any chance to demonstrate his knowledge, ‘this is a Medinan surah, and its revelation was a clear sign to the Prophet – sallallahu alayhi wa
sallam – that he was approaching the end of his life …’ In the corner of the class at the madrasa, Ibrahim leaned towards his neighbour, Junayd.
‘Did you see Match of the Day last night?’ Ibrahim whispered.
‘No, at the restaurant all night,’ Junayd breathed back through gritted teeth.
‘ … so,’ Abdullah continued, ‘when Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala says “Fasabbih bihamdi rabbika wastaghfir”, He is commanding the Prophet – sallallahu alayhi wa sallam – to praise Him and seek His forgiveness at this time, because all of the blessings are from Him and … ’
‘Shame,’ consoled Ibrahim. ‘Great game at Anfield. Finished 3–3 in the end.’
‘Who were they play …’
‘Ibrahim! Junayd!’ yelled Imam Munieb. ‘Why are you talking?’
His eyes bore into them and both boys immediately looked down.
‘Do you think,’ he continued, ‘you know all of this already?’
‘No Imam,’ answered Ibrahim quietly.
Junayd stayed focused on his feet and shook his head.
‘Not one of you – not any of you can choose not to listen,’ continued the Imam, an outstretched arm tracing a semicircle of the room to include all 30 boys assembled, ‘because this is your religion, your deen!
He took an exasperated breath, and carried on.
‘Your deen is your protection, whether you know it or not! So wake up!’
There were only five minutes until break, and these were easily swallowed