Dear Singapore Muslims, We’ve Been Measuring the Wrong Things

Qayyum (not his real name) did not see it coming. Not really.

Ten years in the same industry. Survived two restructurings. When the letter arrived, it was not quite a shock. It was more like something he had been careful never to fully imagine, because imagining it felt like manifesting it. 

The first few weeks, he kept his routine. Woke at the same time. Dressed the same way. Told himself he was exploring options. His wife knew. His mother asked every Sunday. 

The mosque became somewhere he went more often but sat with less certainty. He was not sure what he was asking for anymore. 

When work falls apart, we worry about whether we can find another job. But we also start to ponder...

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