We arrived on Friday afternoon to help with the setup. Thauban and Ubay came along, sleeves rolled up, curious about everything. There wasn’t any glamour in it just boxes, tables, cables, and brothers working quietly to make sure the event would come together the next day.
As we started laying out the tables, it became clear that space was tight. We shifted things around, measured again, tried different layouts, trying to fit more people without making it feel crowded. It was a good lesson for the boys that even when something looks simple, there’s always unseen effort behind it.
For them, I wanted it to be a reminder that success doesn’t happen by itself. Behind every smooth event, every polished result, there’s planning, teamwork, and people giving their time without expecting recognition.
Then Saturday came and subhanAllah, it all just worked. The tables we worried about? Perfect. The space? Just right. Maybe a few people who bought tickets didn’t show up, maybe they did I didn’t ask. But somehow, it all felt balanced. It was a reminder that we can plan, calculate, and prepare but in the end, it’s Allah who decides what carries barakah.
The Day Everything Came Together
Saturday morning had a different energy. The same hall that felt half-empty and uncertain the day before was now alive filled with people, salaams, and purpose. Thauban and Ubay noticed it immediately. They stood quietly for a moment, taking it all in. You could almost see the connection forming in their minds how all that hard work the day before had turned into something beautiful.
They sat through the sessions attentively, whispering questions to each other now and then. I smiled each time. That was the whole point of bringing them. I didn’t expect them to understand every concept, but I wanted their minds to open to see Muslims thinking, building, innovating, and serving with purpose.
When it was time for Zuhr, we stepped outside into the gardens of Kirstenbosch. The sun was warm, and the mountains stood quietly in front of us as we found a soft patch of grass to pray on. There was something grounding about that moment praying in nature, in the middle of a tech event. It reminded me that no matter how far the world advances, salah will always bring us back to what matters most.
Afterward, we ate lunch together. The boys couldn’t stop talking about the speakers, the crowd, the atmosphere. They were trying to understand what everyone meant when they kept mentioning the “Madinah system.” For them, Madinah was just the city in Saudi Arabia.
So we talked about it about how the Prophet ﷺ built a society in Madinah that was fair, just, and filled with compassion. About how it wasn’t just a city, but a system a way of life guided by mercy and justice. They listened, thoughtful and quiet, and that was enough for me.
That was the goal to plant questions, not answers. To let curiosity grow where rote learning often kills it.
Rediscovering Real Connection
One of the most powerful parts of the day wasn’t in the talks themselves it was in the people. In the world of AI and automation, I’ve been feeling more and more that we need to take a full 360 and go back in time to rediscover real, human connection.
I met so many people I hadn’t seen in years. Some from old projects, others from entirely different seasons of life. It was just pure joy reconnecting again real smiles, real warmth, no typing bubbles or video calls in between. Just presence.
It reminded me that while technology can amplify reach, it should never replace touch. The more we innovate, the more we need to protect what makes us human the ability to connect heart to heart.
And maybe that’s what the Madinah system is about for our time: building technology that nurtures community rather than replaces it.
Barakah in Working Together
No matter what challenges or pain points we face whether it’s funding, time, or simply the weight of trying to build something meaningful when like-minded people work together with sincerity, there’s always barakah.
That’s what I saw at Ummahtech. People from different fields, backgrounds, and skills, all moving with one purpose to build something that matters. It reminded me that true success isn’t about individual brilliance, but collective sincerity.
Seeing Thauban and Ubay quietly observing, listening, asking questions it gave me hope. The next generation is watching how we build, not just what we build. And if they can inherit sincerity, teamwork, and the intention to serve that’s already a form of success.
Maybe that’s what Ummahtech was really about. Not just technology, but togetherness. A reminder that when people work with purpose and hearts aligned for Allah’s sake, greatness naturally follows not because of us, but because of Him.
In every gathering like this, there’s more happening than what’s visible small acts of service, quiet intentions, the barakah of people working for something greater than themselves. Ummahtech was a reminder that the future of our Ummah doesn’t just belong to those who code or create it belongs to those who care.