Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself dragged into situations I can only describe as drama. And while I accept that regardless of faith we are all human, I admit I had expected better conduct from Muslims. We often say, Islam is perfect, Muslims are not. Yet in the five years since I embraced Islam, I have encountered far more drama within the Ummah than outside of it. It is particularly disappointing when it comes from intelligent, educated people—because in those cases, it so often seems ego is at play.
Most recently, this unfolded during a live discussion about the evil eye. I joined the session and stated my opinion. A debate is healthy, and everyone is entitled to their view. But what happened went beyond debate. After sharing my perspective in the comments, I was invited up to the live itself. At that point, instead of genuine discussion, I found myself in the middle of a circle where disagreement was not really welcomed. Sisters—including niqabis—responded not with openness, but with dismissal. They said my opinion and my comment were wrong. That hurt, because a difference of opinion does not mean someone is wrong. In Islam, we are encouraged to seek knowledge and to discuss matters openly.
My view was simple: the evil eye is real, but it is not an independent power. As someone who came from another faith tradition that also spoke heavily about the evil eye, I can say confidently that it is nothing more than envy and jealousy. If we start to believe that the evil eye itself holds power, we risk attributing power to creation rather than the Creator. Everything comes only by Allah’s permission. Tawheed teaches us this clearly.
The sisters argued that people should not post celebrations online—like a new car or a new house—because of the evil eye. But I put forward another view: perhaps the problem lies not with those posting, but with those who feel envious or unsettled by it. To feel disturbed by someone else’s blessing is itself a sign of envy, and that is the real danger.
From the Shia perspective, the evil eye (al-‘ayn) is acknowledged, but never as something separate or greater than Allah. Anything that touches us—whether good or bad—comes only from Him. To believe that the evil eye itself has power is to forget Tawheed, for there is no strength and no harm except by Allah’s will. Envy and jealousy may exist within people’s hearts, but they do not act independently. They have no force of their own. If something reaches us, it is because Allah has allowed it, and in that recognition is both humility and protection: La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah.
What troubled me even more than the theological disagreement was the conduct. The niqabi sister leading the live presented herself as a person of peace and modesty, yet when I voiced a different view, she brought me up onto the live not for true dialogue, but in a way that felt more like being put on display before her circle. And as the conversation went on, I realised that many of those engaging were speaking from a very limited frame of reference. Their religious experience seemed narrow, shaped almost entirely by what they had been taught within a closed setting. By contrast, I come from a background shaped by varied experiences and wider study, which is why I see the topic differently. It was not malice in that moment, but rather a kind of unwillingness—or perhaps inability—to see beyond their own frame. That is why I chose to leave the live. But what did feel malicious was what came afterward—when I was no longer present, and they continued to comment about me and dismiss my opinion. That was not debate, it was backbiting.
So I left that connection, and I will not entertain it again. What her behavior amounted to was not sincere debate, but ego and exclusion dressed up as religious discussion.
But here is the beauty in all of this: rather than push me away, the experience has drawn me closer. Closer to my study of Islam. Closer to the teachings of Ahl al-Bayt. Closer to standing firmly in my truth that the evil eye is not a separate force with power of its own. It is envy, jealousy, and the weaknesses of human hearts. To give it any more weight is to give power where it does not belong.
Moving forward, I will be more wary in my friendships and connections within the Ummah. True sisterhood uplifts and protects, not tears down. And my focus will remain where it belongs: on Allah, on knowledge, and on guarding my heart from the very envy others try to project outward.
Seeking Sakina 