by Rehan Mirza
A week ago, I received a phone call. I was told ‘Mr. Ayube’ had passed away. That I was the first person notified. That there were no contacts available for any other immediate family. That he spoke about me recently. That I was the only number that went through from the contacts in his phone book. That I would need to do something. It was Ustadh Ayube’s final lesson for me.
Ustadh Ayube or Ayube Uncle as we fondly called him was a man who patiently endured. When I met him about 5 
years ago life had recently pushed him down and almost out. His adult nephew introduced him to me as a math genius! Initially thinking this was hyperbole I politely asked about his qualifications to teach at the education center that Sanad Trust Foundation had just started. This elderly, inconspicuous man was just another ‘old man’ at the masjid for all that I knew, for all that anyone knew. I had never even met his nephew, but for whatever reason, that day, he grabbed me outside of the masjid and said, “You should get him to teach at your school.” He certainly had a background in mathematics and physics, but a math genius? I wasn’t convinced yet. From that chance meeting in the mosque over 5 years ago to today, I’ve come to learn that Ayube Uncle was a genius, just without a crown.
He taught math for five years at Sanad Prep. Mostly for our middle school and high school students. Their math courses were areas where my contributions could do more harm than good! So it was a blessing to meet Ayube Uncle when I did, to say the least. Actually it was a relief. He was angel-like, coming to serve a need exactly when we needed. Allah works in mysterious ways, but Allah sent him when He did. This is one of the things I continue to learn as founding director of Sanad Trust Foundation, that Allah sends people and events when He wills. Period. We must just be ready, inwardly and outwardly to understand for what purpose.
Ayube Uncle was a Caribbean Muslim through and through. That cool Caribbean drawl was in his bones…no number of years could wash it away. Over the years I learned a little more about him, even though he was an extremely private man. I found out that he was wrongfully laid off before retirement age in order to deny him the pension he had worked so hard for. This was devastating for him. He had a stellar career as a math teacher for decades in Guyana and in the States. Inspiring and educating so many young minds to not fear equations and numbers, but rather to embrace and understand them.
Although he was estranged from his wife and children when we met, he spoke fondly of his two adult sons. That they were intelligent and doing good things. I don’t ever recall him speaking of his wife and I never asked. I know he never spoke ill of them. I did always wonder why his sons and family were not in his life. I would ask often and he would mostly just smile. I never pushed it. Although I could gather he had been hurt plenty, he was never vengeful. He was not motivated by retribution. He patiently endured: professional loss, personal loss.
I feel as though he had begun to see in me aspects of a son or at the very least a friend, I think…or at least I hope I offered him something like this. It was an odd friendship borne out of a chance occurrence, but it worked…for him, for me, and for Sanad Trust Foundation. We all needed each other when we did.
Sanad Trust and Sanad Prep restored his dignity and hope in people. He was happy at Sanad. We were happy to have him. He offered a whole lot. We always tried to reciprocate. What we lacked in funds, we gave him in expressing our honor and respect. Our students were taught to stand for him, to open doors for him, to talk to him loud enough so he could hear:) He was happy. He would always tell me, Sanad Prep is doing something unique and good, with the highest quality. This meant a lot to me. He had seen many students and schools. He was a sage speaking, so it carried weight with me.
Sometimes I would fake informed conversations about cricket with him. I am sure he knew I had no idea what I was talking about, but he never embarrassed me, ever. I gave him a computer so he could have access to his cricket matches, email and the outside world.
Time heals, but I am still getting over that phone call to be honest. I had just sent him an email asking how he was doing. He needed to move from where he was living, so I wanted to check on him. I received the phone call about his passing at the same time as the email I sent. Strange. I felt something was wrong when I sent the email; I knew something was wrong when I answered the phone.
I went to the home of the family, where he passed away. He was with them for a few days. Ayube Uncle would manage the home they rented down south. Once the family decided to sell the property, they invited him to stay with them until he was able to find a new place to stay. He was in a happy place from all that I gathered.
I sat in the exact place where he passed away. I looked up and saw all his possessions. They were in three boxes. His entire material life…was in three boxes and a pair of shoes. I thought about that for a long while. I still think about that. How many of us can say that? We have so much stuff, outwardly AND inwardly. So. Much. Stuff.
The boxes, they were all packed. The shoes, tucked neatly by their side. I think he knew. He was a genius after all!
God decided that in the last week of Ustadh Ayube’s life he would move out of the house where he was more or less alone and go to live with a family who would care for him. The family shared with me that they made him meals and offered social conversation. He planned to buy the next batch of groceries out of courtesy and to show thanks to them. He was living pretty normally, before his pretty extraordinary passing.
When the homeowner expressed sorrow over having Ayube Uncle pass away in her home, I told her I am in fact grateful to Allah. The fact that he was with a family who cared and showed him love made my heart at ease. Aside from her family, it was Sanad that was his family. Had he been at any other place he may have been alone. So no, there was nothing she could do, it was all planned by Allah. He was supposed to be happy, loved and cared for as he was in these final days.
And when Allah gave him all of that care and company with consistency for a few days, this is what He did…
Allah allowed Ayube Uncle go to sleep and return to Him in the gentlest of ways. Without any discomfort. And when Allah gave him this, He let this last moment be in the blessed month of Ramadan. And when Allah gave him this, He allowed for it to be among the last nights of Ramadan. And when Allah gave him this, He allowed it be in the blessed last third of the night.
A man who had so much apparently taken from him before we met, was given so much before he left.
I have a dream/hope now to buy a large ranch property for Sanad Trust Foundation. It would be the permanent home for Sanad Prep, our education initiative and all the other community service programs we offer, including the Guardians which is an elder care initiative. If Allah blesses us with a property like this, I want to have a reflection garden for our students and elders. A place where they can go to reflect on their lives and Allah in serenity and peace. It will be named in honor of Ayube Uncle insha’Allah. Riyad al Ayube, why not? Every time I saw him I saw someone who was able to have serenity and peace, when circumstances would appear to force other than that…he patiently endured. Whatever Allah decides for our future, God willing his memory and legacy at Sanad Trust Foundation and in Sanad Prep (its students and staff) will also endure.
I am honored that Allah taught me so much through Ustadh Ayube. I was just a young father with a dream for a new way to teach my son when we met. Ayube Uncle helped make that dream a reality. So I see now that I was meant to meet him when I did. Then during the hard early years of Sanad, he stood by us when so many walked away. I realize now why. Many people had walked away from him in his life too, so he knew what I needed. He was teaching me from the first day we met. My last moment with him in his life, was going to his home with my wife and children. I met him in the driveway to give his last paycheck, an award, and a gift we were not able to give to him at the center. I got out of the car to stand for him. After giving him each and explaining what it was, I gave him a hug. My family too smiled and expressed their gratitude, even my son and daughter (who finally decided he was cool enough to smile and wave to).
My last moments with him after his death, were sitting where he passed away and looking at those boxes, entering his grave and laying him to rest, then standing one last time in honor for him.
And his final lesson, without words…
A man’s life is not about the possessions he is given and packs away, but rather it is about patiently enduring life’s path, the positive legacy he leaves behind, and returning to Allah in a good way.
Thank you Ustadh Ayube.
Rehan Mirza graduated from the Teachers College at Columbia University (New York, NY) with a Masters Degree in Social-Organizational Psychology. He augmented his studies with courses at the Columbia Graduate School of Business and internships with the United Nations in New York and Geneva. Currently he serves as founding director of Sanad Trust Foundation, a non-profit that hopes to: transform the educational model for school-aged Muslim youth, honor well the social needs of community elders, and address the personal and spiritual needs of the community at large in unique ways. www.sanadtrust.org
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