When the heavy rains lashed across Jamslan and Shajroo, swallowing homes and washing away the fragile comfort of entire families, the destruction seemed endless. Amidst that chaos, a small madrasa Jamia Abu Bakar Sadiq Education became a beacon of mercy. Led by Mufti Javed and Mufti Sabir Sahab, the madrasa opened its doors without hesitation, offering refuge to the Miles2Smile relief team and dozens of flood-affected families.
The walls were damp, the air smelled of wet earth, and the classrooms bore traces of the storm, yet the atmosphere was filled with warmth. That night, the sound of rain was softened by the recitations of children who refused to let calamity silence their devotion. Many of these students are yateem , orphaned children who have lost their fathers but continue to hold tightly to their faith. Their lives revolve around the Qur’an; their memorization of its verses is their greatest treasure, their way of feeling close to the Divine when the world feels far away.
Our team shared space with them that night, moved by their composure and quiet strength. Some children were revising their hifz by candlelight, their books still damp from the flood. Others were whispering their lessons, their tiny voices carrying the rhythm of resilience. It was a sight that could move the hardest of hearts, faith living through loss, hope rising through hardship.
The next morning, on 11th September, we transformed the courtyard of Jamia Abu Bakar Sadiq into our second health camp. The space where children usually sat cross-legged learning Qur’an became a place of healing. Forty-five students stood in neat lines, their slippers muddy, their uniforms still drying from the storm, yet their smiles were bright. We checked their vitals, cleaned their wounds, provided medicines, and most importantly we listened.
As each child came forward, we were reminded that relief work is not just about aid; it’s about restoring dignity. These were not just flood survivors; they were bearers of faith, the future of their community, and living reminders that Allah’s mercy finds its way even in disaster.
By evening, the madrasa courtyard was filled with laughter. Children ran around, playing again after days of fear and displacement. The teachers, Mufti Javed and Mufti Sabir Sahab stood quietly, their eyes reflecting both exhaustion and pride. In that moment, Jamia Abu Bakar Sadiq was no longer merely a shelter, it had become a symbol of hope, resilience, and faith.
In every smile we witnessed, there was a silent message: even when the waters rise and the world crumbles, Allah sends help through hearts that care and hands that heal. And that day, in Shajroo, Jamslan, amidst muddy courtyards and tear-streaked faces, healing began with the laughter of children their voices echoing verses of strength, faith, and unyielding hope.
