The night I first heard Mus’ab ibn Umair speak, I was a boy hiding behind the date stall in Yathrib — the city later called Madinah.
You won’t find my name in any hadith, but I remember how the crowd had gathered, some curious, others angry. I had followed my older cousin, who had whispered, “He’s the one sent by Muhammad ﷺ from Mecca.”
The man at the center wasn’t what I expected. Mus’ab ibn Umair didn’t wear fine clothes, not like the nobles of Mecca. Word had traveled that he once wore the best perfume and silk robes. Now, he stood in a patched cloak, gentle but firm, his eyes brighter than any I had seen. He spoke softly, but his words cut through the wind and noise. He recited from the Qur’an — the holy book revealed to Prophet Muhammad ﷺ — and verses I had never heard settled into my chest like cooling water.
When the crowd finally left, I lingered.
He noticed me.
“Have you heard these words before?” he asked.
“No, sir,” I whispered. “Why do they make me feel afraid and hopeful at the same time?”
He smiled. “The Qur’an does that, little brother. It wakes hearts that have slept too long.”
After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
At night, when I would rise — sometimes too afraid to pray aloud — I would think of the Prophet ﷺ, and of Mus’ab, rising in the nights for tahajjud — the night prayer. My father said it was only for the strong in faith. “You must sleep to grow tall,” he would say. But I wanted to grow in a different way.
Our scholars tell us that Mus’ab ibn Umair was among the earliest to embrace Islam in Mecca, though his tribe was powerful and his mother rich. She locked him away when she found out. Some say he escaped, choosing poverty with the Muslims over comfort with the disbelievers. Later, when Prophet Muhammad ﷺ needed someone to teach the people of Yathrib, he chose Mus’ab — still a young man — to be the first ambassador of Islam.
I watched that ambassador many more nights. He walked through our neighborhoods, entering homes when invited, always speaking with humility, always reciting the Qur’an. Slowly, one by one, hearts softened. Even Sa’d ibn Mu’adh — one of our leaders — accepted Islam through him. And when pilgrims returned to Mecca, it was Mus’ab who brought the report: Yathrib was ready for the Prophet’s ﷺ migration.
I once asked him, “Why do you pray at night when you carry such weight during the day?”
He looked at the stars and said, “Night is when I lay down my burdens before the Most Merciful.”
Now that I am older, I rise in the dark and whisper the same prayers. Sometimes my legs ache, and my eyes beg for rest, but I remember the ambassador — still young, still steadfast — and my heart finds strength.
May Allah bless Mus’ab ibn Umair and all who light the night with prayer.
—
Story Note: Inspired by historical accounts of Mus’ab ibn Umair from classical seerah (Prophetic biography), particularly his role as the first envoy to Medina, and the emphasis on night prayer (tahajjud) from Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1130.
The night I first heard Mus’ab ibn Umair speak, I was a boy hiding behind the date stall in Yathrib — the city later called Madinah.
You won’t find my name in any hadith, but I remember how the crowd had gathered, some curious, others angry. I had followed my older cousin, who had whispered, “He’s the one sent by Muhammad ﷺ from Mecca.”
The man at the center wasn’t what I expected. Mus’ab ibn Umair didn’t wear fine clothes, not like the nobles of Mecca. Word had traveled that he once wore the best perfume and silk robes. Now, he stood in a patched cloak, gentle but firm, his eyes brighter than any I had seen. He spoke softly, but his words cut through the wind and noise. He recited from the Qur’an — the holy book revealed to Prophet Muhammad ﷺ — and verses I had never heard settled into my chest like cooling water.
When the crowd finally left, I lingered.
He noticed me.
“Have you heard these words before?” he asked.
“No, sir,” I whispered. “Why do they make me feel afraid and hopeful at the same time?”
He smiled. “The Qur’an does that, little brother. It wakes hearts that have slept too long.”
After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
At night, when I would rise — sometimes too afraid to pray aloud — I would think of the Prophet ﷺ, and of Mus’ab, rising in the nights for tahajjud — the night prayer. My father said it was only for the strong in faith. “You must sleep to grow tall,” he would say. But I wanted to grow in a different way.
Our scholars tell us that Mus’ab ibn Umair was among the earliest to embrace Islam in Mecca, though his tribe was powerful and his mother rich. She locked him away when she found out. Some say he escaped, choosing poverty with the Muslims over comfort with the disbelievers. Later, when Prophet Muhammad ﷺ needed someone to teach the people of Yathrib, he chose Mus’ab — still a young man — to be the first ambassador of Islam.
I watched that ambassador many more nights. He walked through our neighborhoods, entering homes when invited, always speaking with humility, always reciting the Qur’an. Slowly, one by one, hearts softened. Even Sa’d ibn Mu’adh — one of our leaders — accepted Islam through him. And when pilgrims returned to Mecca, it was Mus’ab who brought the report: Yathrib was ready for the Prophet’s ﷺ migration.
I once asked him, “Why do you pray at night when you carry such weight during the day?”
He looked at the stars and said, “Night is when I lay down my burdens before the Most Merciful.”
Now that I am older, I rise in the dark and whisper the same prayers. Sometimes my legs ache, and my eyes beg for rest, but I remember the ambassador — still young, still steadfast — and my heart finds strength.
May Allah bless Mus’ab ibn Umair and all who light the night with prayer.
—
Story Note: Inspired by historical accounts of Mus’ab ibn Umair from classical seerah (Prophetic biography), particularly his role as the first envoy to Medina, and the emphasis on night prayer (tahajjud) from Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1130.
