His Masjid was small, unable to accommodate the students. It had no grand building, and we used to pray in the street. Then we moved to the new basement, which became crowded. Then to the floor above it, which also became crowded. He passed away while we were still there, and he never requested any donations. He passed away honorable and noble.
We used an electric generator for only a few hours due to financial constraints, and for the remaining hours, we used a gas lamp placed in the Masjid and the dormitories. One day, the gas lamp nearly exploded during a lesson between Maghrib and Ishaa, but Allah protected us. Despite this, Shaykh Muqbil continued his lesson without ever announcing a request for support from the merchants—never, by Allah.
The dormitories for single students were so cramped that some had to build small, narrow rooms from mud and clay, roofed from wood from the acacia tree and tarpaulins. The doors of these rooms were below ground level, so when it rained, water would enter, and some rooms would collapse. And Shaykh Muqbil, may Allah have mercy on him, did not cease to receive students without pausing accepting them to gather donations, as others do now in Al-Fiyuush.
The accommodations for those married were also cramped, made of mud bricks, and some were repurposed from chicken farms. During his lifetime, they were so crowded that more than one family would share a house. Some would move from one house to another, and I myself moved to five different houses whenever a brother traveled. After Shaykh Muqbil’s death, the original people of Dammaj began to make their land available, yet the overcrowding persisted. This is known to everyone who lived in Dammaj from those that now engage in worldly pursuits and begging in the name of knowledge to expand Al-Fiyuush.
As for the sewage system and toilets, they were among the most challenging issues we faced. The sewers were uncovered, and the few toilets were overcrowded. Often, they became clogged and overflowed into the streets. The toilet bowls were merely cement basins or cut oil drums. Unlike the marble basins and toilets now seen, Shaykh Muqbil never announced a request for help. Later, the toilets were expanded.
During the life of our Sheikh, may Allah have mercy on him, I do not think there were more than twenty toilets, and they became overcrowded for us.
Today, we hear of those opening of accounts and collecting donations for the sewage system, and those managing these collections are the Shaykhs of Al-Fiyuush. What a pity for this knowledge you learned in Dammaj.
As for the food and living conditions in Dammaj during the life of our Shaykh Muqbil, may Allah have mercy on him, it was a life filled with blessings from Allah. We did not disdain it; rather, it was a blessing that required gratitude. I am merely describing the conditions we experienced. I lived as a single student in Dammaj during the life of our Shaykh Muqbil for nearly four years, and I do not recall ever seeing fish, tuna, or chicken on top of the rice except if it was on rare occasions which I can't even remember. During Ramadan, they would bring us some chicken—one or three-fourths of one—for ten people. The rice was large-grained yellow rice, which we called American or Vietnamese rice. We did not cook the fancy rice of today. Some study circles would even lack food for lunch or breakfast, and they would endure until the next meal because there were no restaurants to assist them.
This was in the late 1990s, around 1417 AH. How about those who were there more than ten years before us?
Our Shaykh, may Allah have mercy on him, had abstinence, was patient, and grateful for these blessings. He never requested donations or defiled the Da'wah with begging. He honored it with 'Iffa (abstinence), so Allah honored him.
We used an electric generator for only a few hours due to financial constraints, and for the remaining hours, we used a gas lamp placed in the Masjid and the dormitories. One day, the gas lamp nearly exploded during a lesson between Maghrib and Ishaa, but Allah protected us. Despite this, Shaykh Muqbil continued his lesson without ever announcing a request for support from the merchants—never, by Allah.
The dormitories for single students were so cramped that some had to build small, narrow rooms from mud and clay, roofed from wood from the acacia tree and tarpaulins. The doors of these rooms were below ground level, so when it rained, water would enter, and some rooms would collapse. And Shaykh Muqbil, may Allah have mercy on him, did not cease to receive students without pausing accepting them to gather donations, as others do now in Al-Fiyuush.
The accommodations for those married were also cramped, made of mud bricks, and some were repurposed from chicken farms. During his lifetime, they were so crowded that more than one family would share a house. Some would move from one house to another, and I myself moved to five different houses whenever a brother traveled. After Shaykh Muqbil’s death, the original people of Dammaj began to make their land available, yet the overcrowding persisted. This is known to everyone who lived in Dammaj from those that now engage in worldly pursuits and begging in the name of knowledge to expand Al-Fiyuush.
As for the sewage system and toilets, they were among the most challenging issues we faced. The sewers were uncovered, and the few toilets were overcrowded. Often, they became clogged and overflowed into the streets. The toilet bowls were merely cement basins or cut oil drums. Unlike the marble basins and toilets now seen, Shaykh Muqbil never announced a request for help. Later, the toilets were expanded.
During the life of our Sheikh, may Allah have mercy on him, I do not think there were more than twenty toilets, and they became overcrowded for us.
Today, we hear of those opening of accounts and collecting donations for the sewage system, and those managing these collections are the Shaykhs of Al-Fiyuush. What a pity for this knowledge you learned in Dammaj.
As for the food and living conditions in Dammaj during the life of our Shaykh Muqbil, may Allah have mercy on him, it was a life filled with blessings from Allah. We did not disdain it; rather, it was a blessing that required gratitude. I am merely describing the conditions we experienced. I lived as a single student in Dammaj during the life of our Shaykh Muqbil for nearly four years, and I do not recall ever seeing fish, tuna, or chicken on top of the rice except if it was on rare occasions which I can't even remember. During Ramadan, they would bring us some chicken—one or three-fourths of one—for ten people. The rice was large-grained yellow rice, which we called American or Vietnamese rice. We did not cook the fancy rice of today. Some study circles would even lack food for lunch or breakfast, and they would endure until the next meal because there were no restaurants to assist them.
This was in the late 1990s, around 1417 AH. How about those who were there more than ten years before us?
Our Shaykh, may Allah have mercy on him, had abstinence, was patient, and grateful for these blessings. He never requested donations or defiled the Da'wah with begging. He honored it with 'Iffa (abstinence), so Allah honored him.