Across all ages, teachers have played a critical role in the development of children and youth. It is undoubtedly a timeless relationship that has emerged with human civilisation. And on a personal level, I, too, credit much of the growth I've undergone academically and as a contributing member of society to a remarkable teacher. My recollections are littered with fond memories of my first teacher, Bilaal Caad, who taught me how to read and write. He was a great teacher and mentor to many.
I started at his Quranic school — Dugsiga Macallin Bilaal — at the tender age of three, when there were few opportunities besides religious institutions for children to get educated. Growing up in the small town of Burtinle, where the Somalia-Ethiopia borders meet in the northern part of the Somali peninsula, I used to be told that there weren't even that many Quranic schools operating in my hometown back in the mid-90s. In fact, there were only two, and Macalin Bilaal's school had the highest enrolment rate.
I was also told that Bilaal Caad settled in Burtinle merely a few years after Somalia's devastating civil war outbreak. At that time, a well-organised Sufi group dominated the town's Quranic education sector. So it was perhaps natural that they initially perceived him as a threat to their monopoly position in vying for students. And as a result of this feud, his first school was set on fire, most likely because they wanted to deter him from continuing to compete with them over students.
Some voices of that time, who witnessed the bickering first hand, said that much of the hostility had sectarian undertones as Macalin Bilaal was of Salafi persuasion, while his adversaries were members of Sufi groupings. Yet, in the end, Macalin Bilaal's steadfastness prevailed, permitting him to move his school into an even bigger building than the one they've burned to the ground.
To me, his unique sense of humour distinguished him from the archetypical Quranic teacher in Somalia. Not only was Macalin Bilaal's habit of giving funny names to all of his students — which he somehow managed to remember — but also because he successfully combined likeable humour with discipline, something his adversaries couldn't pull off.
Beyond his outstanding qualities as a teacher, he also showed great interest in philanthropic causes such as fundraisers for the poor, Iftar dinners that he hosted at his private residence during Ramadan and drought relief projects. Macallin Bilaal stood up for all kinds of good causes. He simply spared no effort from facilitating scholarship opportunities abroad to supporting orphan centres across Puntland. Today his former students include doctors, engineers, lawyers and clerics who reside on all parts of planet earth, fondly remembering their beloved teacher.
By God, I do not know of any individual I've ever met who's more deserving of being taken as a role model than Macallin Bilaal. In this post, I wanted to celebrate and honour his legacy and express my deep gratitude and admiration so that I may tread his path and follow in his footsteps one day. May the Almighty bless our teachers!
