They used to call me “Hanzal the Helper,” because I was always running errands between the houses in our neighborhood of Yathrib — that’s what Madinah was called before the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ arrived. You won’t find my name in any hadith, but I was there, watching everything change.
I was just a boy when the Messenger of Allah ﷺ made hijrah — the sacred migration from Mecca to our city. Everyone was filled with hope. For many years, our people, the tribes of Aws and Khazraj, had fought bitter wars. But now, people said, peace was coming.
One afternoon, I was returning from the market carrying dates when I saw a group of elders, including Jews from the Banu Qaynuqa‘ tribe, sitting with some of the Prophet’s companions. I peeked from behind a stall, curious. My uncle, Harith, whispered to me, “That is a gathering for a great treaty. The Prophet is making a pact of brotherhood — not just among the Muslims, but with the Jews and others too.”
At first, I didn’t understand. Why would they do that? The Jews had their own religion and lived in their own quarters of the city. We Muslims had just begun to build our masjid. Couldn’t we just stay separate?
But then I heard a man read aloud from a parchment. My heart thudded as he spoke the words: “The Jews and the Muslims are one community (ummah), distinct in religion, united in protection and justice.”
I blinked, trying to make sense of it. My uncle saw my confusion and knelt beside me. “Hanzal,” he said, “do you see what is happening? This isn’t just a city anymore. It’s becoming a place where justice outweighs tribe, and where truth unites hearts.”
I nodded slowly, still unsure, but hoping he was right.
Days passed. Life went on. But I noticed something different. A Jewish man greeted a Muslim man I knew was once his rival in business, and they shared a laugh. A Muslim companion helped a Jewish family carry water to their home. My uncle’s words began to make sense.
Then one morning, news spread quickly. There had been a theft, and the Prophet ﷺ was to judge the case. The accused was not a Muslim, but a man from a Jewish clan. People wondered what would happen.
I sat outside the gathering place, heart racing. No one could see me behind the pillar, but I listened to every word.
When the Prophet ﷺ spoke, his voice was calm, firm, and fair. He declared a ruling based on justice and truth — not favoring the Muslims, nor the Jews, but upholding what was right.
That moment stayed with me. I realized then what it meant for everyone to be part of one ummah — not of blood, but of shared responsibility. I felt proud not just to be Muslim, but to live in a city where justice belonged to all.
From that day on, I didn't just run errands for my neighbors. I listened to them, learned from them. I watched a divided city become a united home.
And I carry that memory with me, even now.
Story Note: Inspired by the Madinah Constitution as recorded in classical seerah literature, including Ibn Hisham and Ibn Kathir, highlighting the Prophet’s ﷺ justice and commitment to pluralism.
They used to call me “Hanzal the Helper,” because I was always running errands between the houses in our neighborhood of Yathrib — that’s what Madinah was called before the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ arrived. You won’t find my name in any hadith, but I was there, watching everything change.
I was just a boy when the Messenger of Allah ﷺ made hijrah — the sacred migration from Mecca to our city. Everyone was filled with hope. For many years, our people, the tribes of Aws and Khazraj, had fought bitter wars. But now, people said, peace was coming.
One afternoon, I was returning from the market carrying dates when I saw a group of elders, including Jews from the Banu Qaynuqa‘ tribe, sitting with some of the Prophet’s companions. I peeked from behind a stall, curious. My uncle, Harith, whispered to me, “That is a gathering for a great treaty. The Prophet is making a pact of brotherhood — not just among the Muslims, but with the Jews and others too.”
At first, I didn’t understand. Why would they do that? The Jews had their own religion and lived in their own quarters of the city. We Muslims had just begun to build our masjid. Couldn’t we just stay separate?
But then I heard a man read aloud from a parchment. My heart thudded as he spoke the words: “The Jews and the Muslims are one community (ummah), distinct in religion, united in protection and justice.”
I blinked, trying to make sense of it. My uncle saw my confusion and knelt beside me. “Hanzal,” he said, “do you see what is happening? This isn’t just a city anymore. It’s becoming a place where justice outweighs tribe, and where truth unites hearts.”
I nodded slowly, still unsure, but hoping he was right.
Days passed. Life went on. But I noticed something different. A Jewish man greeted a Muslim man I knew was once his rival in business, and they shared a laugh. A Muslim companion helped a Jewish family carry water to their home. My uncle’s words began to make sense.
Then one morning, news spread quickly. There had been a theft, and the Prophet ﷺ was to judge the case. The accused was not a Muslim, but a man from a Jewish clan. People wondered what would happen.
I sat outside the gathering place, heart racing. No one could see me behind the pillar, but I listened to every word.
When the Prophet ﷺ spoke, his voice was calm, firm, and fair. He declared a ruling based on justice and truth — not favoring the Muslims, nor the Jews, but upholding what was right.
That moment stayed with me. I realized then what it meant for everyone to be part of one ummah — not of blood, but of shared responsibility. I felt proud not just to be Muslim, but to live in a city where justice belonged to all.
From that day on, I didn't just run errands for my neighbors. I listened to them, learned from them. I watched a divided city become a united home.
And I carry that memory with me, even now.
Story Note: Inspired by the Madinah Constitution as recorded in classical seerah literature, including Ibn Hisham and Ibn Kathir, highlighting the Prophet’s ﷺ justice and commitment to pluralism.
