Watch the Video: HERE

It’s not just a matter in Singapore or other countries; this is a wider issue that affects Muslims everywhere, especially those who have lived their entire lives as part of the Ummah. For many, the impact is subtle, so subtle that it becomes invisible over time. The lines between what is acceptable and what is not blur, and we forget that we’re not just navigating through this world; we are also guardians of our Deen. It is only when we stop to reflect—years after conversion, after deepening our understanding of Islam—that we begin to realize how far we have strayed.

Take, for instance, the issues surrounding hijab, lowering the gaze, and the concept of free mixing—whether it’s in gatherings, sports, or other social events. I’m not speaking about public spaces; I mean those private events where Muslims come together, and yet the boundaries of what is permissible seem to dissolve.

This isn’t just a concern in our homes or communities—it’s everywhere. Never think that you are immune to the fitnah that emerges from the media, the entertainment industry, the fashion world, or even just from the pressure of socializing and keeping up appearances. We often ask, “What about keeping the Deen?” And yet, when we look around, it’s easy to see that people are already “okay with it.” The fact that many have accepted these worldly distractions shows just how deeply fitnah has infiltrated their hearts.

What’s even more concerning is that this doesn’t only happen to unmarried individuals. There’s this misguided notion that young adults are too inexperienced to understand, so we say, “Let them learn on their own.” But the reality is that we cannot wait for a perfect moment. As Muslims, we are adults in our faith long before we are adults in age. We should know better. We cannot justify our actions by saying, “It’s okay, we’re all adults,” because that excuse is rooted in ignorance, especially when it comes to our Deen.

The pressure to fit in, to follow trends, to dress according to fashion, to attend social events—all of these things pull us away from what truly matters. As Muslims, we need to stand firm. It’s better to say no to an event or gathering if it compromises your faith. It’s better to lose face than to lose your Deen. In fact, losing your Deen is the one thing you cannot afford to do. Everything else is temporary—your relationships, your career, your social standing—but your faith is eternal.

This is a bitter truth: when you begin to focus on your Deen, the people who once called you “friend” might disappear. The work environment that seemed so accommodating might reject your beliefs, especially in non-Muslim countries. The world may look at you differently, but remember, nothing in this Dunya belongs to you.

What matters is your Deen. This is the foundation. It’s important to remember that Shaytan works tirelessly to pull us away from the straight path. He doesn’t come with obvious temptations; instead, he uses whispers—subtle ones that make you question your choices. He takes advantage of the fitnah in your surroundings, the complacency in not lowering your gaze, the temptation in not wearing hijab, the easy way out of following trends to “fit in.” Slowly but surely, these small compromises erode your faith.

We need to understand how easily we can slip. Imam Dhahabi’s book “The 70 Major Sins” highlights this beautifully. When you read it, you see how each sin often begins with small, seemingly innocent steps. There is no sudden fall into sin. It’s gradual. It begins with complacency. It begins with neglecting your duties to Allah, with carelessness, with letting the whispers of Shaytan guide you without realizing it.

This brings to mind the story of Barsisa, the devout worshiper who, despite his piety, was slowly led astray. He was a man of faith, secluded in worship, yet he allowed his nafs and his environment to lead him step by step toward his downfall. A stranger—a woman in distress—came to him seeking shelter, and this seemingly innocent interaction led to much worse consequences. Barsisa, unable to control his desires and not realizing the danger of his actions, found himself in a spiral of sin, ultimately committing a crime so grave that he lost his faith entirely. His fall from grace didn’t happen overnight. It was a series of small, unchecked actions, one after another, that led him to his doom.

Let this story be a reminder: the path to sin isn’t always obvious. Sometimes, it’s paved with good intentions, but it requires us to stay vigilant, to guard our hearts, and to be aware of the dangers around us. Shaytan is always scheming, always whispering. The environment we live in, the culture we interact with, all play a role in how our hearts are shaped. That’s why we must be proactive in protecting our faith—before we slip, before we start compromising.

In the end, if you focus on your Deen—if you work to make your relationship with Allah your priority—then you won’t lose. You may lose friends, you may lose opportunities, you may even lose respect in the eyes of people, but remember: nothing is more precious than guarding your Deen. The rest is fleeting, but the Deen is forever.

So, let us stay mindful, stay strong, and work to protect our faith with all the energy we have. Because in the end, that’s the only thing that will truly matter.

Link to Ustadha Fatima Barakatulla’s class on the 70 Major Sins:

YouTube: PLAYLIST
Muslim Central: PODCAST