The air inside the camp felt heavy, weighed down by the relentless challenges of their mission. The harsh realities of poverty, hunger, and the fragile state of the world seemed to seep into every corner of their lives, infecting their thoughts and crushing their spirits. Ahmed, more than anyone, felt its suffocating grip tightening around him.
He sat on the edge of his cot, staring blankly at the wall of his tent. It had been days since he had been able to sleep properly. Each night, he tossed and turned, tormented by the faces of the starving children they were supposed to be helping but couldn't reach. The endless cycle of suffering, the hopelessness in their eyes—these images played on a loop in his mind, robbing him of peace.
His body felt like it was on autopilot, moving through the motions of each day without any real sense of purpose. He could hear Amina and Farid outside, talking in hushed tones about the next phase of their aid efforts. But none of it mattered to him anymore. How could they keep believing in their mission, in the goodness of the world, when everything around them was falling apart?
Amina's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, soft but determined. "Ahmed, can I come in?"
He hesitated, feeling the urge to tell her to go away, but he sighed and muttered, "Yeah, come in."
The tent flap rustled, and Amina stepped inside, her eyes filled with concern. She sat down across from him, studying his face for a moment. "You've been avoiding us," she said gently, but her tone was serious.
Ahmed shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze. "I've been busy."
"You've been avoiding me," she repeated, this time more pointedly. "You haven't spoken to anyone properly in days. What's going on?"
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up inside him. "What's the point, Amina? What are we even doing here? No matter how hard we work, nothing changes. There's always more suffering, more pain. It's like we're trying to empty the ocean with a spoon."
Amina's expression softened, but she didn't let go of the subject. "I know it feels that way sometimes, but we are making a difference. You can't lose hope just because it's hard."
Ahmed's laugh was bitter, hollow. "Hope? How can I have hope when everything I see screams that there is no hope? Look around you, Amina. This world is broken. If Allah really cared, why would He allow all of this to happen? The hunger, the poverty, the wars… where is He in all of this?"
Amina frowned, her eyes narrowing as she leaned forward slightly. "This isn't about the world, is it? This is about you, Ahmed. You've been struggling with your faith for a long time. But blaming Allah for the problems in the world? That's not going to help you find peace."
Ahmed clenched his fists, the anger rising inside him like a tidal wave. "How can you say that? How can you believe in a God who allows so much suffering? I used to pray, I used to believe, but it's all a lie. There's no one watching over us. If there was, He wouldn't let innocent people suffer like this!"
Amina's face was calm, but there was a fire in her eyes. "You think I don't question things sometimes? You think I don't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders too? But faith isn't about everything being perfect. It's about finding strength even in the darkest times. It's about trusting that there's a purpose, even when we can't see it."
Ahmed shook his head, standing up and pacing the small space of the tent. "I can't do it anymore, Amina. I can't keep pretending that I believe when everything in me is screaming that this world is broken beyond repair. Where is Allah in this? Where is He when children are dying in the streets? Where is He when families are torn apart by war? He's not here. He's never been here."
There was a long silence as Amina watched him, her face a mixture of sadness and determination. Finally, she stood up too, moving closer to him. "You're angry," she said quietly. "You're hurting. I get that. But you can't let that anger blind you to everything else. The world is hard, Ahmed. But that doesn't mean it's without meaning. And it doesn't mean we're alone."
Ahmed stopped pacing, his chest heaving as he fought back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Then tell me where He is, Amina. Tell me why He lets all this happen."
Amina took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "I don't have all the answers, Ahmed. No one does. But I believe that we're here for a reason. I believe that we're meant to help, to fight for those who can't fight for themselves. Maybe Allah doesn't stop every bad thing from happening, but He gives us the strength to keep going. And sometimes, that's enough."
Before Ahmed could respond, Farid and Rafiq entered the tent, their expressions tense. "Is everything okay in here?" Farid asked, glancing between Ahmed and Amina.
Amina nodded, but Ahmed shook his head, his frustration boiling over. "No, it's not okay. Nothing is okay. I'm sick of pretending like what we're doing is enough. It's not. It never will be."
Farid's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Ahmed, we're all struggling. This work is hard, but giving up won't solve anything."
Ahmed glared at him, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You don't get it, Farid. None of you do. I'm done believing in fairy tales. I'm done with this whole charade."
Farid exchanged a worried look with Amina before stepping forward. "Ahmed, you're not alone in this. We've got each other. We can help—"
"I don't want help!" Ahmed snapped, his voice rising. "I want answers! I want to know why we're even bothering if none of this makes a difference!"
Rafiq, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "It makes a difference to the people we're helping, Ahmed. Maybe we can't change the whole world, but for those few people whose lives we touch, it means everything."
Ahmed looked at him, the bitterness in his chest threatening to choke him. "It's not enough," he whispered. "It's never enough."
---
Later that night, Ahmed lay in his cot, staring up at the dark ceiling of the tent. The conversation with Amina, Farid, and Rafiq had left him feeling more lost than ever. He had thought that voicing his doubts might bring him some kind of relief, but instead, it had only deepened the chasm inside him.
He wanted to believe. He wanted to feel the same peace and certainty that Amina seemed to carry with her everywhere she went. But all he could feel was the crushing weight of his own doubts, his own failures.
The world was spiraling out of control, and so was he.
---
Thoughtful Questions for Readers:
1. Can Ahmed find a way to reconcile his doubts with his desire for meaning, or will his loss of faith continue to push him further into despair?
2. Will Amina's unwavering belief in the goodness of their mission be enough to help Ahmed find his footing again, or are their paths destined to diverge?
3. How can Ahmed, surrounded by so much suffering, find a reason to keep fighting when he feels like nothing they do is enough to change the world?