WILL (Wafi's Institute of Language Learning)
Where there is a WILL, there is a way
Big journeys, begin with small steps. Steps that might seem disconnected with each other in a quagmire of disorienting patterns leaving you confused and often anxious. But the more we take those steps, trusting the creator who designed life, the more it will make sense. And finally, upon reaching the target destination after travelling a thousand miles filled with challenges and crises, when we look back, all the steps will arrange themselves in a consciously oriented, deeply beautiful and strategically orchestrated pattern that connects all the dots coherently, exposing your eyes to the entire telescopic picture than the minute pixel that you often microscopically focused on, leaving you with a mind-bending awe! So trust your lord and take those steps! đ - Wafi Shihad
My journey began in the first month of the 21st century. I was born in a small town in the Malappuram district of Kerala called Pulikkal. Growing up in Pulikkal connected me deeply with the Indian soil. I grew up playing and learning under the shade of my beautiful little township. Life was simple. Life was good. The world was small and safe while the reality that was to come was narrow and nightmarish. little did that 6 year old little boy know, his journey was about to take a turn that would leave an indelible mark on his life.
I migrated to Qatar at the age of 7 when my father joined QP QATAR as the secretary of human resources. It was my first exposure to the outside world. Joining the largest school in Qatar made me go through a lot of challenges especially due to my lack of communication skills and ignorance of the English language. I was sidelined and segregated. Unable to form friendships. The first years were a huge challenge.
This experience made me deeply understand that survival is only through self development. I focused on improving myself for the next few years. I spent time learning as much as possible about human dynamics and relationships. This was my entry into the field of psychology.
"Your child is extremely weak in English, he lacks language caliber, We can't allow him to join our school! "
I spent my earliest year of education in a government Malayalam medium school. Hence, My knowledge of the English language was zero to none. When my father, who was at the time working as a professor in MUA college, was selected for the secretariat post of QP in Qatar, he wanted to take us too. He tried to enroll us (me and my little brother) first in second grade in English schools in Kerala to prepare us before migrating. Upon searching, my mother decided to enroll us in a good English medium school near Farook college, Calicut. I went with my mother to the school office.
We waited outside the office. The clock was ticking and I was eagerly waiting with a sense of thrill in good hopes of what was to come. I remember this like it was just yesterday even though a lot of time has passed. We entered the office. There was a Lady in the office chair who I presume was the principal or the teacher who was the coordinator of admissions. She looked at us, then glanced at my certificates which she might have deemed worthless. She glanced at us through the corner of her eyes and looked at my mother. The words she said pierced through my heart and left an indelible mark that I still carry today. She said:Â "Your child is extremely weak in English, he lacks language caliber, We can't allow him to join our school! ".
Now, looking back being a psychologist, i understand deeply, why her words left that kind of a cleaved mark on my heart. This incident also served as a valuable lesson for me later on, as a teacher and a mentor on how NOT to talk to children.
I returned from that school feeling rejected and dejected holding my Ummaâs (mother) hands feeling too ashamed to look at her face as i felt i let her down. But later, i got admission in another English medium school. Being an average kid who couldnât utter one word in English, among peers who spoke the language fluently filled me with inferiority complex. Some of them looked down at me as if i was an untouchable ignorant imbecile. I couldnât complain of the bullying as the complaints were only accepted in the English language. It felt suffocating.
What wrong had i done?! Why should any child have to go through this kind of a mental torture for to not knowing a language that was not even his mother tongue! Was it such a big unforgivable crime that this naive little criminal had to go through solitary confinement and social boycott!!??
I donât know if itâs the effect of post colonial western brainwashing, but the people seemed to view this language with absolute divine devotion as if itâs the most important element in the world to depict oneself as an educated and intelligent citizen. I deeply feared this language. I hated it to the core. A natural and normal consequence of my abnormal experiences.
Once during second standard, I was called by the teacher to write the word âINDIAâ on the board. As she called my name, an electric shock shot from the bottom of my legs to the peak of my cerebral cortex filling my heart with fear and frustration. I had no choice but to go to the board as she echoed my name twice as if to announce the commencing of a drama that deserves the attention of all my classmates who looked down at me with contemptuous resentment. I took the chalk and went to the board with my mind empty as a black hole that even the most brightest of lights couldnât pass through.
With shivering hands, i drew on the board an array of alphabets that was far from the word assigned to me. Each letter i wrote was followed by a theatrically thunderous display of laughter from the classmates who took great pleasure in seeing their âfriendâ meet his doom. The teacher looked at me with disappointment and didnât even care to get angry as she seemed too hopeless at this lad who lacked basic comprehension ability.
I wish i could fly away, forever, into oblivion, erasing myself from existenceâŚ
After a few months, came the time to fly. To travel to Qatar leaving this nightmare behind. I was extremely happy. But little did that little kid know, he was jumping from a mild nightmare to a full blow night terror.
Qatar was beautiful. It was calm and serene. We arrived at Al Wakra. A place i would call home for the next ten years. A wonderful little town with the gigantic Al Wakra stadium, the beautiful peal roundabout and a thriving native population. It was amazing!
As we settled, came the time to enroll in school. I was dropped off to MES Indian School which is the largest school in Qatar with thousands of students and hundreds of vehicles. The school was one huge compound with hundreds of classes, Multiple buildings, different sections. I was accompanied to class. The sheer size of the school was overwhelming. As i entered my new class (3rd - D) , it felt strange. There were students from different countries, colors, creeds, cultures and codes. The only common language that bonded them all was the English language, the Villain in my story.
I stood quiet as my tongue couldnât afford more humiliations. The time moved slowly. It was as if the whole universe felt the need to make me experience pain, second by second. I felt alone and lost even though i was amongst the crowd. As the last bell rang signifying school end, i got out of the class not knowing how to navigate to my bus. I didnât know my bus number nor did i know my place name. It was one strange world. Had not enough life experience to make sense of the situation. So, it was natural for that 8 year old kid to cry. Other students gathered around me to provide a helping hand, but i couldnât convey to them what my problem was as i didnât know English. The same feeling of suffocation i felt a year before reignited. A teacher came to me and held my hand. Her kind words felt comforting. She searched and got me to my bus 27-X. English seemed like one hell of a language. Ignoring it seemed impossible as it always met me regardless of what turn i took to go around it. There seemed no choice, but to fight my demons and kill the beast before it kills me.
But i didnât know howâŚ
Mughirah reported: Al-Shaâbi, may Allah have mercy on him, said, âThe statement âI do not knowâ is one half of knowledge.â
Source: Sunan al-DaĚrimiĚ 186
I sought refuge in Dua. I couldnât see clear path ahead. Tawakkul was the dish, in which i found the taste of serenity. Looking back now, I had never done anything specific solely for the sake of learning English. But rather, My language ability was a direct result of what i did. The door to development opened through my discovery of internet.
âThe Internet could be a very positive step towards education, organization and participation in a meaningful society.â
- Noam Chomsky
The year was 2008. Internet use was slowly spreading. Social media was just beginning to take root. YouTube was just created 3 years ago. Itâs seed just sprouted and was budding into a small little plant. Almost all the giant tech companies of today that rule the online world were just beginning to take their baby steps.
As the internet grew, My access to information grew too. My Elder brother, Hadi Rashad, Was an avid debater. He memorized the Holy Quran at a young age and was a brilliant young guy, collecting information through internet by watching lectures and seminars. (As of the date of this writing, 2022, He graduated in usool al hadeeth from Madinah university and was one of the few students selected from across the globe to pursue Masters studies there). I used to observe what he did astonishingly. How amazing is this technology that could serve to us in silver spoons any information we demanded. Subhanallah! It was absolutely amazing.
I too followed his footsteps watching seminars, speeches and debates from the speakers from the US and the UK. It was very intriguing. I spent my after school hours taking notes and listening to these speakers. Pages after pages, My love for leaning increased. Hyde park speakers corner was a craze for me. Binge watching Ahmed deedat lectures was the hobby of choice. Following malcom Xâs firy speech was an addiction. Nothing quenched my thirst than listening to debates and discussions on very stimulating subjects raanging from the US foreign policy to the contestation of liberal propaganda.
Little did i know, My language was developing at a pace i lost track off. By the time i reached 5th standard, my public speaking abilty was getting recognized. But it was far from perfect. Filled with grammar mistakes. An ugly mixture of all foreign accents creating a cacophony of frequencies. I had friends from different parts of the world. I could speak in most of their accents. While calling to Mcdonaldâs to order food, I would speak in the iconic Filipino accent. While fighting with the Arabs over football match fouls, I would speak in the rigid Arab accent. While conversing with my north Indian friends, i could speak in a clear Indian accent with all itâs heterogeneous syllables.
But nonetheless, it was a huge improvement compared to my situation years before. I continued listening to speeches and collecting notes on various subjects. I had never pursued this for the sake of improving my language. But this exercise gave me a good set of vocabulary and flow of words. Not only in English, but also in my mother tongue. Madrasa life gave me opportunities to excel in Malayalam as well. Speech competitions were always my field of excelling. It was a craze. Madrasa annual fest was crop irrigation day for me. Seeing my motherâs smile as she looked at me and my brother coming home with bags filled with prizes was and is a priceless memory. Subhanallah! Such good times.
Watching international speakers for hours and hours, day and night gave a me good sense of how to speak publicly. It was not a conscious choice i made solely to master public speaking, but rather, it was just my curiosity to search and research following what i had seen my grandfather do. I never did any of these with the intention of improving my speaking ability, but the ability to openly communicate was a direct result of it. I was unconsciously following the LSRW methodology. I never chose to do it. But my circumstances made me apply it.
I consider it an answered Dua of an 8 year old who raised his little hands to the lord of the worlds weeping in pain, he couldnât express in his little words.
The same habit of listening to English, Reading as many books as possible and collecting new information continued for the next upcoming years. At that time, i would have never imagined that the language abilities i developed then would serve as the foundation for almost everything i would achieve in the future with the grace of God.
I continued participating in speaking competitions, Many of which i failed. A lot of such disastrous failures taught me lessons that would save me in the future. But i couldnât see any huge improvement until i came back to kerala to pursue higher secondary education. Joined for Biomaths in EMEA HSS. There i found something i didnât often receive. Constant appreciation and support. Even the mistakes i made during my speeches were returned with gracious words of support. I represented the school in all zonal and district level elocution competitions.
My English teacher, Salam Sir would allot 10 minutes of his class everyday by assigning for me daily topics to give speech on. He would take me to different classes in the school to give speeches on different topics. The most common of which was Martin luther kingâs speech titles âI have a dreamâ, which i had memorized word by word. I spent weeks, committing it to memory and watching the speech video over and over again to imitate the great speaker. School life contributed a lot to my language abilities.
Joining college was a game changer in my life. I actively participated in inter college debates and discussions. Headed organizations and participated in campaigns, all of which opened for me venues to share my thoughts and ideas. Represented the college in competitions held across the country. It was a phenomenal experience! Subhanallah.
In campus life, I have had the opportunity to speak in almost all the first year, second year, third year and PG classes of all the 18 departments of the college as the ambassador of NPTEL. I got to speak at RISC, CLAN, NSS, Palliative and SISE meetings, I gave talks for English language classes, Conducted orientation sessions for freshers, gave speeches in political campaigns, handled anti-ragging awareness programs,etc.. Alhamdulillah. It has been a long journey. I forced myself to come out of all my comfort zones. It was a very scary thing to do. It almost felt like jumping into mariana trench without knowing to swim. Each time i held back due to fear of under-performing, there was this image of an 8 year old who wouldnât be proud of seeing his elder self holding back due to fear. I made sure to grab all the opportunities that came across me.
You've got to grab every opportunity that comes up.
- Dominic West
Coming to Farook college, I found it extremely hard to speak. One of the reason being that my Malayalam proficiency was very low due to spending a lot of years developing my English faculty . Hence, I had to resort to English to speak. I was insulted a lot for speaking English. This was quiet ironic considering the fact that i was earlier insulted for not being able to speak English. It then became clear to me that there are always going to be people who will demotivate you regardless of whatever you do.
The first years of college life where especially filled with criticisms and oppositions. When I started speaking in English, I have had to listen to a lot of derogatory and insultful comments like - âhe is a sayipâ (A derogatory term used to denote that a person is acting life caucasian for the sake of attention) , âhe is a show offâ , he is this and that. I donât know if itâs due to the post-colonial inferiority complex of a malayali or not. But one thing was clear to me, if I choose to stop speaking due to the insults, I am only limiting my abilities and destroying what Allah gave me.
I continued speaking and improving communication efficiency. Read books and literature related to language and linguistics. Kept on training and practicing. Grabbed opportunities that came across my way even when I felt strongly that I could never achieve it. And now alhamdulillah. Looking back, I feel extremely happy that I chose to do that. It was a long and hard journey, but in the end, it was all worth it. Alhamdulillah.
All human beings have fear. It all arises from deep dysfunctional and destructive beliefs about ourselves and the world in our minds. The only way to overcome these fears is by challenging them straight ahead. There will always be people who exploit your fears to insult you. But never ever stop doing what you are doing. Go forward with greater confidence.
The ones who insulted me looked with regret as Allah opened for me doors to job opportunities even before finishing my degree education. I joined as a trainer for Aston coach which is a language institute based in UK, Got selected as an English presenter for Media One and started working as a journalist for Renai TV.
Looking back, All i can say now is âAlhamdulillahâ. Everything i ever achieved was only due to the support of my lord. I strongly beleive itâs an answered Dua.
The journey was long. A lot of mistakes made. A lot of lessons learned. And a lot of experiences made.
This story is a proof that If an average boy who couldnât utter a single word of English become an English Language instructor and media presenter, then you can do it too!
It is a proof that if that average little kid who hated English to the core could one day lead English clubs and represent his college for English elocution competitions, then you can do it too!
Never ever back down! Never ever stop learning! Regardless of how hard it seems! Regardless of how impossible it seems! Continue the journey, even if itâs in a slow pace, never stop. The day you fall into the traps of your insecurities and lay back from travelling on this path is the day you truly lose!
Do your best and God will do the rest.
All it takes to master this language is a strong Will to do it. If there is a will, there is a way.