God guided me and ordained that I follow the school of truth: the school of the Ahl al-Bayt (peace be upon them), the school of the grandson of the Messenger of God, Imam Jaʿfar ibn Muhammad al-Sadiq (peace be upon him). All four Sunni legal schools, I came to understand, had branched out from and drawn upon his teachings; he was their foundation.

My journey toward Shiism began when I was in the second year of my studies at the College of Sharia. I constantly wondered: Why are there so many differences among the legal schools?

Whenever our Islamic Studies class ended, I would speak with the instructors and engage them in lengthy discussions about various issues. Prayer, for example, raised many questions for me because I could see clear differences among the schools, and disagreements even existed among the jurists belonging to the same school.

Al-Shafiʿi held that touching a woman who was not one's wife or close unmarriageable relative invalidated ablution, whereas Abu Hanifa held the opposite view. Malik differed from both: he maintained that ablution became obligatory if the touch was deliberate or accompanied by sexual desire, but not otherwise.

Al-Shafiʿi also permitted a man to marry a daughter born out of wedlock, while the other three schools disagreed. Abu Hanifa held that bleeding from any part of the body, even in a small amount, invalidated ablution, whereas the other three schools disagreed with him.

Abu Hanifa also permitted ablution using nabidh—a beverage prepared by soaking dates or raisins in water—as well as milk diluted with water, while the other three schools rejected these positions. Malik permitted the consumption of dog meat, whereas the other three schools disagreed. Al-Shafiʿi permitted eating the meat of hyenas, a fish known as jari, and foxes, while Abu Hanifa prohibited them. Al-Shafiʿi also considered hedgehogs lawful to eat, whereas the others prohibited them.

These were only a few examples among the many disagreements that existed between them, extending from the beginning of Islamic jurisprudence to its very end.

Glory be to God! Was the Sharia incomplete and left unfinished until these jurists introduced all these conflicting rulings? One declares something lawful, another declares it forbidden; one permits something, while another takes the opposite position.

Yet it is authentically reported that the Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him and his family) said:

“Whatever Muhammad has declared lawful will remain lawful until the Day of Resurrection, and whatever Muhammad has declared forbidden will remain forbidden until the Day of Resurrection.”

We had also studied the history of al-Shafiʿi himself. He first developed his earlier legal doctrine, known as his old school, and disseminated it among Muslims in Iraq, the Hijaz, Yemen, and Syria. He subsequently travelled to Egypt for reasons of his own, associated with scholars from the Maghrib, and learned from them. He then abandoned his earlier doctrine and formulated another, which he called his new school. Eventually, only a few rulings from his original doctrine remained.

I asked myself: If his first doctrine was correct, why did he formulate a second one? And if the second was correct, what did that say about the first?

Similarly, we would find Abu Hanifa expressing one opinion on a particular issue, only for his students Abu Yusuf, Muhammad, or Zufar—who had studied under him—to disagree with him. Sometimes one student would support him while the other two opposed him; at other times, all three would disagree with him or agree with his position.

The same pattern appeared with Malik and Ahmad ibn Hanbal. Disagreement ran through their legal rulings on virtually every subject. Naturally, this raised doubts in my mind about whether following any one of these schools was truly justified.

As fate would have it, and fortunately for me, a new student joined our university while I was studying there. She was Iraqi and had been displaced from her homeland with her family, who had come to our country in search of safety.

She enrolled at our university and chose our college because its students were known for their religious commitment. Yet, given her academic achievements at the medical college in her homeland, she could have chosen a more prestigious faculty.

The young woman was named Batul. She sat in the last row of the lecture hall and always wore a black abaya, with a khimar covering her head down to her chin. Her dress reflected her religious commitment and, as I saw it, her resistance to the changing fashions and excesses of the modern age.

When we, the students of the College of Sharia, learned that she was Iraqi, we became convinced that she must be a Shiite. We often harassed her, deliberately mocking and ridiculing her because, according to our beliefs—which were, of course, based on false information—we thought that she and the followers of her school were not Muslims.

We believed that they worshipped Ali ibn Abi Talib. We thought that only the more moderate among them worshipped God, but that they did not believe in the prophethood of Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him and his family). We accused them of cursing Gabriel and claiming that he had betrayed his trust by delivering the divine message to Muhammad instead of Ali. We alleged that they elevated their Imams to the status of gods, believed in divine indwelling, and prostrated before a clay tablet instead of worshipping God.

We even claimed that they visited the Prophet's grave to throw filth and impurities into it. We said that they had tails, that they were unbelievers, and that they posed a greater threat to Islam than Jews and Christians. After all, we reasoned, the latter worshipped God and believed in the message of Moses (peace be upon him), whereas we had heard that the Shiites worshipped and venerated Ali.

Despite all our accusations, reprimands, mockery, and ridicule, Batul never retaliated. Every time, she would simply say, “May God forgive you. May God guide you. If only you knew the truth! I ask God to forgive me and you.”

And so it continued until one day that became, for me, the beginning of a profound transformation.

That day, I arrived late for the lecture and found no available seat except the one beside Batul. Until then, I had never sat next to her because I feared she might be an unbeliever or perhaps a spy seeking information about our school so that she could relay it to her own sect.

I sat down, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with her. Then I said to myself, What does she have to do with me, and what do I have to do with her? Let each of us go about her own business.

As chance would have it, that day's lecture concerned the Shiite school of thought. The lecture began, and we all listened attentively to what was being said about it. Batul grew increasingly astonished at the claims being made about the Shiites. Throughout the lecture, she muttered under her breath, “May God's curse be upon the wrongdoers! May God forgive you! You followers of Banu Umayya! You followers of Muawiya!”

This continued until the lecture ended, by which time Batul was nearly bursting with anger.

I asked her, “Why are you so angry and upset? Is what the lecturer said about you not true?”

Batul smiled and replied, “If a professor thinks this way, then we cannot blame the students. And if the students think this way, then we cannot blame ordinary people who lack proper knowledge.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Forgive me,” she replied, “but where do you get these false allegations from?”

“From books of history and from what everyone commonly knows,” I answered.

“Do you have time to discuss these matters?”

I hesitated for a moment before replying, “Perhaps I have some time.”

We walked to the cafeteria, where she ordered coffee, and we sat down to talk.

“Let us set aside ordinary people, who rely primarily on the canonical Hadith collections,” she said. “Have you personally read any books about us?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I have read books such as Zuhr al-Islam, Fajr al-Islam, and Duha al-Islam by Ahmad Amin, along with many others.”

“When did Ahmad Amin become an authority on the Shiites?” she asked. “Should you not investigate the matter through its recognized original sources?”

“How are we supposed to investigate a subject like this?” I asked.

Batul explained, “Ahmad Amin himself visited Iraq and met several scholars in Najaf. They confronted him about what he had written concerning the Shiites. He apologized, saying that he knew nothing about them, had never previously been in contact with Shiites, and that this was the first time he had met any of them. They asked him, ‘Then why did you write such defamatory things about us?’ He replied, ‘We inherited this view of you from the people before us.’

“Can you see how baseless these accusations are? This is how it happens: whatever you hear about us is often nothing more than malicious, prejudiced falsehood.”

“Let us leave Ahmad Amin aside for now,” I said. “Tell me about the many other things people say about you.”

She interrupted me. “If you merely want to pass the time talking for the sake of talking, then I am sorry, but I would rather leave. If, however, you genuinely wish to learn and discover how we have been wronged, then I am here for you, and all my time is yours.”

“No, absolutely not,” I replied. “God forbid that I should speak to you merely for the sake of conversation. I genuinely like you, and I have come to feel that you are being wronged. You have many arguments you wanted to present during the lecture, but you did not dare to speak. Why was that?”

Batul answered, “Talking to people like these is pointless. Such discussions might even diminish the standing of my school and my religion because I would be debating ignorant people. Imam Ali (peace be upon him) said, ‘I debated their ignorant ones, and they defeated me; I debated their learned ones, and I defeated them.’”

“Then let us begin,” I said.

She interrupted me once more. “First, send blessings upon Muhammad and the family of Muhammad.”

I was astonished. These are the people we accuse of abandoning religion, yet they seem to observe it more carefully than we do, I thought.

I said, “O Allah, bless Muhammad, his family, and all his Companions.”

Batul smiled slightly and said, “Go on.”

“Which legal school do you follow?” I asked.

“The Jaʿfari school,” she replied.

“What an unfamiliar name!” I exclaimed. “We know nothing beyond the four legal schools. Anything outside them has no place in Islam.”

She smiled and said, “Forgive me, but the Jaʿfari school represents Islam in its purest form. Do you not know that Imam Abu Hanifa studied under Imam Jaʿfar al-Sadiq (peace be upon him)? Abu Hanifa himself said, ‘Had it not been for those two years, al-Nuʿman would have perished.’”

I fell silent, unable to respond.

She continued, “The four legal schools learned from one another. Ahmad ibn Hanbal studied under al-Shafiʿi; al-Shafiʿi studied under Malik; Malik studied under Abu Hanifa; and Abu Hanifa studied under Jaʿfar al-Sadiq. In this sense, they were all students of Jaʿfar ibn Muhammad. He was the first to establish an Islamic university in the mosque of his grandfather, the Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him and his family). More than four thousand Hadith scholars and jurists studied under him.”

Interrupting herself, she asked me, “Which Imam do you follow?”

“Imam Abu Hanifa,” I replied.

“How can you follow someone who died nearly fourteen centuries ago?” she asked. “If you wanted to ask him about a new issue arising today, would he be able to answer you?”

I quickly retorted, “Your Imam is dead too. How can you follow him?”

“My Imam is alive but in occultation,” she replied. “During his occultation, we follow one of the pious, qualified jurists. For us, it is not permissible to follow a deceased jurist.”

She then explained that a person must recognize the Imam of their time, citing the saying attributed to the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him and his family):

“Whoever dies without knowing the Imam of his time dies a death of ignorance.”

She said that her Imam of the time was the Master of the Age, Imam al-Mahdi, and that explaining this subject properly would require a lengthy discussion.

“Very well,” I said. “I am satisfied with that explanation. Let us move on to the second accusation: you worship and venerate Ali, do you not?”

“Have you not read the words of Almighty God?” she asked.

“Muhammad is no more than a messenger; messengers have passed away before him.” (Qur'an 3:144)

And His words:

“Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah, and those who are with him are firm against the disbelievers and merciful among themselves.” (Qur'an 48:29)

And His words:

“Muhammad is not the father of any of your men, but he is the Messenger of Allah and the Seal of the Prophets.” (Qur'an 33:40)

“Yes, I know these verses,” I replied.

“Then where does Ali come into this?” she asked. “The Qur'an we have is the same Qur'an you have, and it explicitly states that Muhammad is the Messenger of God. Where, then, does this baseless accusation come from?”

“You have convinced me on this point,” I admitted. “But what about the claim that you accuse Gabriel of betraying his trust?”

“God forbid!” she exclaimed. “That accusation is even worse than the first. Muhammad was forty years old when God sent Gabriel (peace be upon him) to him, whereas Ali was only a small child, six or seven years old. How could Gabriel make such a mistake? Could he not distinguish between the adult Muhammad and the young child Ali?”

“That is entirely logical,” I said to myself. “How had we failed to consider it this way?”

She continued, “The Shiites are the only group among the various Islamic schools that maintains the infallibility of the prophets and the Imams. If our Imams (peace be upon them) are regarded as protected from error despite being human beings like us, then what can be said of Gabriel, a noble angel whom the Lord calls the Trustworthy Spirit?”

I was perplexed and struggled to find an answer. I began thinking that before asking the Shiites why their beliefs differed from ours, we Sunnis ought to ask ourselves why our own legal schools were so numerous and why they disagreed with one another.

“So everything people say about you is false?” I asked.

“May God forgive you,” Batul replied.

The conversation ended when I apologized for having little time left. I said goodbye to her, asking her to visit me soon because I was eager to hear more of the Shiites' responses to the allegations made against them.

She thanked me and, in turn, prayed that God would grant me goodness and guidance.

As I walked away, I wondered, Will the day ever come when I become a Shiite?

I quickly dismissed the thought. No, this is impossible. This is how our fathers and grandfathers lived. Could they all have been misguided? Am I to be the only person in my family who discovers the light and the truth? No, no. This is impossible. I seek God's forgiveness and repent to Him.

A few days later, Batul came to visit me because I had been feeling slightly unwell and had missed several days of college. She brought me a bouquet of flowers and a copy of the Qur'an.

I opened it and found that it was exactly like our own Qur'an.

“People say that you have a separate Qur'an of your own. Is that true?” I asked her.

She replied, “I bear witness that there is no god but Allah and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. May God bless him and his pure, immaculate family. Those who spread such allegations are liars and enemies of Islam. They want to divide Muslims, tear them apart, and turn them against one another. We worship God alone, without any partner. We have one Qur'an, one Prophet, and one direction of prayer. We share these fundamentals with you. We may differ from you Sunnis on certain legal matters and some theological issues, but that is all.”

“Tell me more,” I said. “May God increase you in knowledge.”

“What would you like to ask about?” she replied.

“Tell me why you believe Ali was entitled to the caliphate, as you claim. Tell me about the turbah Husayniyyah—the clay tablet on which you prostrate. Tell me about Husayn and why the Shiites weep and beat their breasts. Explain why you seek intercession and blessings through the shrines of your Imams.

“Tell me why you regard Abu Bakr, Umar, and Uthman—may God be pleased with them and grant them His approval—as ordinary individuals, and why some of you sometimes insult and curse them. Why do you also insult certain wives of the Prophet, whom God has purified and cleansed of all defilement?

“Why is your ablution different from ours? Why is your prayer different from ours? What about temporary marriage, taqiyyah—religious dissimulation—rajʿah, the return of certain figures, and khums, the one-fifth levy? Why do you interpret Qur'anic verses as referring to Ali and his descendants when we do not know these interpretations? And what about the Mushaf Fatimah?”

I listed all my questions. Batul remained smiling throughout, appearing ready to answer anything I might ask and entirely confident in herself.

She finally said, “Do you truly want to know the truth? My dear sister Lamia, I have grown fond of you, and I hope you will accept another gift from me: several books. Read them, and you will find answers to every question you have raised.

“If I were to answer every question now, we could spend the entire year discussing whether my answers were correct. But if you read the accounts of people who came to recognize the truth and changed their beliefs—people who had been Sunnis before becoming Shiites—you would find compelling evidence and decisive arguments drawn from your own books.

“I will not introduce you to our books until you ask for them yourself, after reading the books written by those who embraced Shiism.”

I thanked her and asked her to visit me again and send the books as soon as possible. I was eager to read them, hoping that they might finally resolve the doubts and lingering questions I had about the disagreements among the four recognized legal schools.

Batul kept her word. Three days later, she arrived with a large number of books.

“I will come next week to take you with me to attend the Ashura commemoration,” she told me.

I hesitated before accepting her invitation. Eventually, I agreed, although I remained uncertain.

“Very well,” I said. “As you wish.”

I then immersed myself in the books, reading day and night, from cover to cover. I was fascinated by the way each author analyzed the issues that divided Sunnis and Shiites.

All of them startled me with an account I had never heard before: the Calamity of Thursday. It was an appalling and almost unbelievable account. Yet the authors supported their discussions with references to Sunni sources, including Sahih al-Bukhari, Sahih Muslim, Musnad Imam Ahmad, Tarikh al-Tabari, and Tarikh Ibn al-Athir.

How could I dismiss what I had read by claiming that it was merely the work of people who disliked and hated the first three caliphs? Was this account not recorded in the canonical Hadith collections?

I decided to search those books myself to verify the references. I almost wished I would not find them. But al-Bukhari had recorded it, Muslim had recorded it, and so had the others. They had also instructed us to follow Abu Bakr and Umar and portrayed them as upright men who did not commit sins.

After reading all this, I found myself increasingly drawn toward Shiism. Their explanations seemed logical to me. I continued reading the books by al-Tijani, Shaykh Muhammad Marʿi al-Antaki, and others. They had all been Sunnis before becoming Shiites, and I had never heard of a Shiite becoming Sunni.

The Calamity of Thursday alone was enough to lead me toward Shiism.

I wish you, dear reader, knew the details of this incident, so that you might understand why I reached this conclusion. It is an account that one can hardly recount without embarrassment, and one that, in my view, brings shame upon Sunnis because it appears in their own books. We should therefore not be surprised when Orientalists write such things about our Prophet: they base their claims on reports found in our own sources.

I read the books and became convinced by their arguments. I was sometimes astonished by what I encountered and at other times distressed by the years I had spent in spiritual blindness.

I came to believe that the Shiites were right and that we were wrong. They adhered to the essence of religion, while we clung to its outward forms. In my view, they were the ones who deserved to be called Ahl al-Sunnah—the people who follow the Prophet's tradition—because they had not altered what Muhammad had brought. We, by contrast, had followed the traditions of Abu Bakr, Umar, and Muawiya.

I say this openly: the truth lies in following the Ahl al-Bayt, whom the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him and his family) instructed us to hold firmly to. He said:

“I am leaving among you that which, if you hold firmly to it, you will never go astray after me. One of the two is greater than the other: the Book of God, a rope extending from heaven to earth, and my progeny, the members of my Ahl al-Bayt. They will never separate until they return to me at the Pool. So consider how you treat them after I am gone.”

He also said:

“The likeness of my Ahl al-Bayt among you is that of Noah's Ark. Whoever boards it is saved, and whoever stays behind is destroyed.”

How I regretted the past, when I had kept my eyes closed and followed my peers and community along what I now believed to be a misguided path!

Yet praise belongs to God, who guided me through this sincere and faithful young woman. Let every Shiite rejoice and take pride in adhering to the firmest bond and belonging to the saved group mentioned by the Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him and his family) in one of his Hadith reports.

After finishing the books, I had fully embraced Shiism. I turned the page on my previous life and decided to begin anew.

On the day Batul had promised to take me to the Ashura commemoration—may God reward her abundantly for all she had done for me—she arrived looking somewhat sorrowful.

“Why are you sad, my friend?” I asked.

“It is the day of Ashura,” she replied. “Imam al-Sadiq (peace be upon him) said that we should not smile on this day, because Husayn (peace be upon him) was martyred on it. His martyrdom was a tragedy for the entire Muslim community.”

I said, “May God curse the enemies of Islam, and may You hasten Your reappearance, O Awaited Imam, so that You may fill this world with justice and equity after it has been filled with oppression and injustice.”

My friend looked at me in astonishment. “Are you making fun of me?” she asked.

“God forbid!” I replied.

I kissed her between the eyes and said, “Thank you, Batul. Thank you for this gift. You have rescued me from the darkness and ignorance in which I lived and brought me into the light of knowledge, the prophetic teachings, and sound beliefs, into the embrace of the Imams of guidance, the descendants of the Messenger of God (peace and blessings be upon him and his family). Do you have any more books for me?”

She replied, “If you have now learned enough and have reached complete certainty, I will give you some books written by Shiite authors.”

“I would love that,” I said. “But for now, let us go and attend the Ashura commemoration.”

We went together, and I saw people weeping and wailing as though Imam Husayn (peace be upon him) had been martyred only moments earlier. I wept with them, sharing in their solemn and sorrowful devotion. I felt my distress lifting and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

I regarded that day as the beginning of my journey as a Shiite. I understood my tears as an expression of grief for my past, for the state of Islam, and for the accusations that my companions and I had directed at Batul and other Shiites who followed this school. After embracing Shiism, those whom I had once criticized became my beloved friends and brothers and sisters in faith. May God bless them.

Initially, my family opposed my decision—may God forgive them. But through patience, repeated discussions, and my thorough preparation for the questions I might face from anyone who learned that I had become a Shiite, I gradually prevailed in these debates. I eventually persuaded two of my sisters to embrace Shiism as well.

By then, I had read nearly all the books on Shiism that I could find. I discovered in their beliefs and supplications a treasure that could never be exhausted.

Thus unfolded my journey toward Shiism. It began with private doubts about the differences among the legal schools and ended with my openly embracing Shiism and holding firmly to what I came to regard as the true school: the school of the Ahl al-Bayt (peace be upon them).

Peace be upon you on the day you were born, on the day you were martyred, and on the day you are resurrected. Utterly lost is anyone who does not know you or recognize your worth.

I offer my deepest apologies to you, on my own behalf and on behalf of those Muslims who were unaware of your relationship to the Prophet, of what he said about you, and of the love and affection we are obliged to show you. I also apologize for those who harmed you and encouraged others to spread malicious falsehoods about you and those who remained devoted to you. May God curse them and consign them to His fire.

Dear reader, if you wish to deepen your understanding, I encourage you to read the books of al-Tijani, al-Antaki, Khalifat, and others, as well as the works of those who embraced Shiism. Their testimonies will stand as evidence against us on the Day of Judgment.

In those books, you will find answers to all the questions I have left unanswered here. I have not included every answer so that you will be encouraged to investigate the matter for yourself and seek the path of light and truth.

If, after all this, you remain unchanged and refuse to reconsider the beliefs you have inherited, then all hope is lost. But if you are willing to examine the evidence with an open mind, you will have acted as a person of understanding who follows the words of Almighty God:

“So give good news to My servants, those who listen to what is said and follow the best of it. They are the ones whom God has guided, and they are the people of understanding.” (Qur'an 39:17–18)

Qur'anic references cited in the original: Surah Al-Fath 48:29; Surah Al-Ahzab 33:40; Surah Aal Imran 3:144.