Aamena Ahmed and Silma Suba
It’s the peak hour of hot, prickly sunlight outside, indicating that the time for Muslim noon prayers is starting. As students rush through the hallways of Carnegie Mellon University in Qatar, eager to exit their classes and dive into their lunch plans, one worker has a different goal.
Kaharudin Alim, a cleaner at CMU-Q is busy fixing a white knit cap on his head, ready to give the call to prayer. Despite being dressed in a shabby blue and brown cleaner uniform, Alim doesn’t shy away from what he believes is his duty. He boldly walks up to the main CMU-Q crossway, and with a loud voice, starts reciting the words “allahu akbar, allahu akbar,” or “Allah is the greatest, Allah is the greatest,” reminding everyone within earshot that it’s time for prayers.
“When I recited my first adhan (call to prayer) here, I felt very nervous. I felt I had no guts,” Alim says. “Even now I feel nervous, but I tell myself, ‘I am not doing it so anyone can see me or praise me,’ I am doing it for my creator.”
During his four months of work at CMU-Q, Alim, 35, has been giving the call to prayer every afternoon. His soft recitation style has also received a lot of attention from both students and staff on social networking sites, with many posting about him on Twitter and uploading photos and videos of his call to prayer on Instagram.
“I thought it was recorded until I saw him calling for prayer. Spine-tingling,” commented an Instagram user in response to a short clip of him on Instagram.
Before coming to Qatar, Alim worked as a salesman for a cellphone company in his homeland of the Philippines. Born and raised as a Muslim in a country that was predominantly Roman Catholic, Alim still stood strongly by his faith. In fact, when he lived at home, he was teaching his only son, 7-year-old Al Rajiv Alim, how to read the Quran. But as money became a pressing concern, he had to look elsewhere for work.
In December 2011, Alim left his wife and son and came to work for Al Mukhtar Agency – a contracting and trading company in Qatar. Over the course of two years, he has worked as a cleaner in Al Khor and the Qatar National Convention Center, and is now working at Carnegie Mellon University in Qatar.
“I feel bad that I am not able to give everything to my family back home. I wish I could do more.” Alim says, as his voice grows thick with emotion. “I wish the salary was a little better, it’s not enough for me or my family.”
Alim now lives with eight other men in a small, cramped room on the outskirts of the industrial area, a housing arrangement provided by his company. He is paid 800 Qatari Riyals per month, which doesn’t even cover the cost of food or daily household items.
“Most of the time me and my roomates share vegetables and noodles with one another,” Alim says. “But, alhumdulilah (praise be to Allah), we try and eat meat twice a month.”
For that, he is grateful.
While most people in Doha are fast asleep, enjoying the last few hours of peaceful slumber, Alim gets up every morning at 3:35 a.m. The sky is still dark outside, but Alim is already wide awake, taking a shower, and getting ready to offer his dawn prayers. But he has to be quick, because the bus will be there ready to pick him up by 4:10 am.
“As soon as I get to CMU, I am busy doing work, cleaning and helping,” Alim says.
As Alim spends his days in Qatar, he thinks a lot about his family back home. His son, Al Rajiv, is in the first grade now. He will be 8 years old on Oct. 24. While talking about his son, Alim’s throat clogs up and his voice grows quiet.
“He is very funny, always being naughty, but he’s also very smart,” Alim says, in a barely audible voice. His son has already received a distinguished math award in school.
“I am proud to be his father,” Alim adds.
Every Friday, Alim visits the Qatar Guest Center, an institution that offers a variety of programs for non-Arabic speakers to learn about Islam. While most people are busy learning how to recite the Quran at the center, Alim has A higher goal. Every Friday, he is busy learning how to give a khutbah or Islamic sermon.
Even while he is being interviewed, students are eager to approach him, wanting to know if the prayer time has begun.
“Excuse me, have you already called the adhan?” a Qatari girl getting off the elevator asks him minutes after he gives the call to prayer.
It seems that his voice, but more importantly his sincerity, has given him recognition among the CMU-Q community.
After giving the adhan, Alim makes his way downstairs to the mens’ prayer hall. One of the things that he loves most about Qatar, he says, is that no matter who you are or where you come from, in the Mosque, everyone is equal. He stands next to professors, who, in turn, may be standing next to students.
Coming from a small Filipino Muslim community, this is a new feeling for Alim.
“In the masjids here, it doesn’t matter who we are,” Alim says, on his way to prayers. “We come together, stand shoulder to shoulder, only for the sake of Allah.”