Only to Please Allah

 

Please, let me tell you about myself.

My name is Ahmed and today I am wearing the uniform of important official in charge of the North Stand. I have one hundred people working for me. I am in black T-shirt and black trousers and I have the headphones with microphone for messages. My staff wear red and white uniforms and we are all here to help the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix be a great occasion for our visitors.

It is almost twelve noon and I have been here since six, when I am alerted to a problem. A man in a wheelchair has a puncture. This is no problem I say. We have many wheelchairs. I see the man and ask his name.

‘John, John Goss. I can’t use your chair. I can’t stand and the sides are fixed.’

He is agitated. I put my hand on his shoulder and say again, ‘No problem sir we help you.’

I summon strong men and we lift him into our chair.

‘I need the puncture to be mended because I have to get back to my hotel and in two days I go on a cruise. Can you mend the puncture?’

‘Ye sir, I will get it fixed while you watch the practice.’ The wife she takes off the wheel and the rest of the chair is secured safely. They go up in the lift to the stand and I face many other problems.

There is a short break, everyone now in the stands watching to see who will gain pole position for the big race tomorrow. Now I have time to make calls about Mr John’s tyre. Yes they can inflate it. I send it to have air but an hour later it is back, still flat. The tyre needs a new inner tube. I see Mrs John and she says there is a tube in the medical bag at their hotel. I call hotel once, twice until they agree to collect the bag and bring it here, to Yas Marina circuit. I tell them directions and it takes an hour to come.

Lewis Hamilton has pole position and it is getting dark. I’m hungry because no time for lunch. Mr and Mrs John are pleased when the bag arrives and we all sit at picnic bench. My friend holds a torch because it is now dark and I use tyre levers. Mr John does it with me and the new inner tube is put inside. I go to get it full of air. Mr john say eighty psi. It seems a lot when car tyre only thirty-five.

When I return Mrs John has gone to get coffee and doughnuts so we put the wheel on and lift Mr John. I see Mrs John return and her eyes are full of tears when she sees him in his own chair. They offer me their coffee and doughnuts.

‘No thank you,’ I say. ‘I will eat later.’ They cannot thank me enough, offer money. ‘No, no Mr John. I do not do this for you. I do it for Allah.’

‘I’m sure Allah knows what you have done today and will be pleased,’ says Mrs John. They finish their drinks and leave the stadium, promising to say hello to me tomorrow when they come for the race.

Later, when called to prayer, I thank Allah for the opportunity he give me do His will.

 

 

Leave a Reply