The Shame of Abandoning Originality

"Originality is the engine of progress."

It sparks thought, builds civilizations, and fuels every breakthrough. The spread of Islam—from the earliest days to the golden age of Andalus—was driven by people who embraced their uniqueness while rooted in divine guidance. The Companions of the Prophet ﷺ— brought their own strengths, enriching the ummah rather than conforming to one identity.

The Historical Blueprint: Islam is Built on Originality

Islamic history screams originality. Scholarship thrived because it adapted and synthesized knowledge across regions. The jurists of Medina weren't copies of those in Iraq. The scholars of Andalus didn’t mimic Khorasan. Each region brought something fresh because creativity was honored, not suppressed.

As Islam reached new societies, it absorbed their social depth and cultural flavors—strengthening the Muslims, not diluting them. Diversity made the ummah wiser and more resilient.

Originality is Divine by Design

Originality isn’t just creative impulse—it’s built into creation. Every being, sound, and culture thrives through its unique design. Diversity in tone, color, and rhythm is a sign from Allah—a mark of His mercy.

Yet today, under the banner of "Islamic cultivation," many confuse conformity with piety, and dependence with safety. We’ve blurred the line between Sunnah and imitation—dishonoring both ourselves and those who paved our path.

How We Got the Game Twisted

Instead of strengthening Islam through originality, many have abandoned it. We chase foreign ideals, manufactured images, and scripted systems. The weakest communities today are those that gave up their strengths for borrowed progress.

This crisis extends beyond Western Muslims. Globally, schools and social validation shape people into replicas. For indigenous Muslims in America, the issue cuts deeper. Originality is erased under the false guise of religious duty. And when losing your identity is called sacred, reclaiming independent thought becomes nearly impossible.

When We Look and Sound Ridiculous

And the worst part? We don’t even realize how ridiculous we look. The cosplay, fake accents, borrowed mannerisms—it’s clear to everyone but us. What we call authentic, others see as imitation.

Take Sister Sarah and Brother Kamal. Both raised in the inner city, full of brilliance—but once the new garb comes on, so does the imported accent.

Sister Sarah says "ya'ni" ("you know") fifty times in a three-minute conversation with someone who only speaks English—but can’t write the Arabic verb.

Brother Kamal? He throws on a gutra and "ayy naam" ("Oh, yes") you to death.

Their accent is as real as the canned hummus in Walmart.

Let me be clear: learning Arabic to understand the Quran is noble. But there's a difference between scholarship and cosplay. Speaking in your authentic voice—"ya heard 'em," "younderstand"—keeps Islam accessible and familiar.

Abandoning your speech for borrowed accents doesn’t make you more pious. It distances you from your people and alienates Islam from your community.

Language is for communication. Arabic is for understanding Allah’s words. Rich expression is a fingerprint—no two peoples speak the same. Why not embrace our voice and stand proud? A Muslim may honor you as a guest, but he’ll frown at your poor imitation.

What Conformity Really Costs Us

This loss of authenticity isn’t just embarrassing—it’s destructive. It leads to intellectual laziness, economic fragility, and political weakness. A nation that doesn’t create can’t control its future. A people that don’t think are always led. A culture that mocks uniqueness stays chained.

We weren’t colonized in the classical sense—but foreign systems reshaped our minds. This colonialism doesn’t steal land—it steals thought. It needs no chains—just schools, syllabi, and status symbols. Religious colonialism isn’t taking our resources—it’s erasing our brilliance. It swaps native strength for borrowed structure and makes us doubt our voice.

That’s how you rewire a people—quietly, deeply, systemically.

The Final Question: Why’d You Let Go?

This loss of self raises a hard question:

Why did you let go of your originality?

• Who convinced you that blending in was safer than standing firm in your truth?
  
• When did imitation become easier than building with what Allah already gave you?
  

Make it make sense.

Our Deen is built on sincere advice. So here it is:

Embrace your experience. Excel in excellence.

From ya Brutha.