RIS - The End

If I cared enough about this conference, I would probably have written the best documented evaluation report ever.
I was impressed with the person whom I thought knew how to do it the right way, but the last few hours just collapsed it all. I wish I ended off with a proper meeting with my volunteers, the way I had planned it, I wish........ we had all worked in a team and made only the best decisions, and that the hierarchy didn't work one way but it's fine. Alhamdulillah. I was taken into confidence that I need to train the kids in a certain way, and I stuck to that task. And I wish, I hadn't let my mood overshadow my motivation because of my own issues.

I took the liberty of taking a 40 min break today first time in 3 days. Perhaps a bit unfair, but Alhamdulillah. The 2 hour meeting was enough.
I had nothing to do from 10:45 to 12, until the end of the conference. At least, I chose to do something better with my time. I just sat on the benches hoping I'd see whom I was looking for. I also wanted a quiet place for myself, where I could put my head down and reflect. That didn't work because I had a million thoughts flying off in so many directions. So, I did the next thing I always do, took out my Qur'an and started reading. The music distracted me a bit. As my friend always says, 'you know when H speeds up her memorisation, it means she's distracted'. I thought I was still muddled up, until I heard...
Umar! Rania Lewendy's son. How did I miss Umar the entire conference? There's no way that 3 year old hadn't made himself known to everyone out there in a matter of hours. His father always says, 'Umar, please, when will you stop?'. Umar and his 5 year old brother Islam were running around, trying to put each other in 'jail', which was their 2-seater pram. Until I got involved, and had Umar make me take 25 laps around the benches, before I finally let him put me in 'jail'. Of course, the problem was, I won't fit. So he graciously allowed me to sit back on my bench and I sent him off after my brother. My brother had sensed something was wrong with me so he came to sit with me. Yet I noticed that he suppressed his own tiredness for me. May Allah give him the best in this world and the next. Umar, Islam and my brother took pictures together. Then, I let Umar 'fix' my Arabic Qur'an. He also told me not to try and speak Arabic. His father told him to stop again. Thankfully, no one was jailed! Umar also wanted to erase my name from my badge, because ... I can't remember, so he assigned Islam to do it. And then he told Islam, 'Please don't do it. she'll be sad. I don't want her to be sad'.

During lunch, I sat on the benches with one of the volunteers, to find out more about them. Next to me, were 2 middle-aged Pakistani couples. I heard the two women talk about such beautiful things. May Allah empower our Pakistani women the way He has empowered them. They were talking about their experiences in hajj. About listening to the best recitations. About feeling overwhelmed and crying at fajr. About how one of their aged mothers had so much energy to pray, and they felt embarrased that they couldn't match her strength. Where are such Pakistani women, who know what their priorities are. Who have the right values. Who care about their Islamic development, in the truest sense? Most, can't even do justice with their grown-up children when it comes to decision-making. I felt so proud of them in an instant. They, were sitting there, talking about deen and their self-development process, instead of random gossip and meaningless talk.

Despite my whizzing around, I notice so many things about people around me. I extremely appreciate the fact that my team members ran and helped those who were disabled and elderly. And those who felt they were on a true personal mission. And those who came up to me and asked me to take a break. And those who offered to stay longer than their shifts. And those who said 'Salam' to me everytime I passed them. And those who valued their bookmarks. And those who said to others, 'our team is better, because we have her. We will be the best team'.

Yet, I wasn't the best person for this position. Allah subhana wa ta'ala put me in this position as a test for me. I mediated wherever I could, and I tried to resolve conflicts as best as I could. I made sure each and everyone one of them got prayer breaks, until they got tired of me that they'd all shout 'Yes' in unison. I tried to teach them not to interrupt when I was dealing with difficult people. I tried to find out about everyone. I tried to guess their ages, and what they want to study. I tried to give them career advice. Sometimes, I tried to get them off my back, because they wanted to stick around me. I tried to pick up plastic papers and moved boxes out of they way so that they wouldn't slip. I tried to share what I had with them. I tried to joke around with the youngest of them, and be respectful to those older than me.

It was unbelievable how hard they worked and unbelievable how much stress they took. It was unbelievable what happened.

I'm always reminded of my learning curve theory, that I always forget. But I wish, our energies hadn't run out to the point where we turned back on our promises. But such is life, because we don't lead independent existances.

I hope and pray that as organisers, our commitments and responsibilities did not deter their learning and expectations. May Allah subhana wa ta'ala give them much more than the reward I had promised.