By Toyin Kuranga
Across the world, at any given moment, countless stories unfold at once. In one corner of the world, joy is erupting; in another, hearts are breaking. Somewhere, a contract is signed, marking success, while elsewhere, devastating news brings grief. All these moments occur within the same seconds, under the same sky, without confusion or delay. This reality reflects the boundless power, wisdom, and precision of Allah, who governs every affair without collision or error. What humans perceive as chaos is, in truth, divine coordination. What appears random is, in reality, deliberate. Every breath, every heartbeat, every arrival, and every departure unfolds within a framework of perfect knowledge and control.
Yet, society often becomes unsettled when individuals who are wealthy, influential, spiritually grounded, or widely respected pass away, especially when their deaths are connected to what they were once blessed with. Such moments raise questions in the hearts of many: “If this could happen to them, what safety do the rest of us have? But life and death were never intended to reflect status. Wealth does not guarantee protection; piety does not grant immunity; Strength does not ensure permanence. Health is never permanent. Life is given to teach humility, and death comes to remind humanity that ownership was never absolute. The grave makes no distinction between the powerful and the powerless, the celebrated and the forgotten, the rich and the poor. it only reflects the truth that every soul returns to the One who created it.
Modern society frequently equates long life with success and early death with failure. However, in the sight of the Almighty, the true measure of life is not its length but its sincerity. A short life lived with purpose can outweigh decades of emptiness. A sudden death may be mercy, protection, or elevation, just as a long life may be honor, responsibility, or trial. What humans perceive as tragedy may, in reality, be divine rescue, and what appears as a blessing may be a test of gratitude. Some departures are not punishment but release; some delays are not neglect but preparation. The wisdom of Allah often unfolds long after the event itself.
This world, it must be understood, was not designed to distribute comfort equally but to distribute accountability fairly. Some are tested with poverty, others with wealth. Some with sickness, others with strength. Some with obscurity, others with fame. Some with loneliness, others with responsibility. Yet every test carries equal weight before Allah, even if they differ in appearance. No soul is burdened beyond its capacity, but no soul is exempt from being tested. Through these trials, hearts are purified, intentions are refined, and destinies are shaped not always in comfort, but always in wisdom.
When people of faith fall, confidence wavers. When people of wealth die, fear spreads. When people of influence disappear, uncertainty rises. But such moments are not meant to weaken belief; they are meant to strengthen awareness. They remind humanity that status does not negotiate with destiny, that closeness to Allah does not prevent death but prepares one for it, and that wealth cannot delay time nor influence the postponement of the unseen. Death is not the enemy of life; it is the completion of it. And preparation for death is not withdrawal from the world, but living in it with purpose, humility, and responsibility.
In moments of confusion, the proper response is humility. Society must learn to measure success not by what is visible but by what is eternal. Comparing lives should give way to understanding purpose. Allah is not random, careless, or unjust. He is deliberate, precise, and wise beyond human comprehension. Every rise and fall, every gain and loss, every joy and sorrow move exactly as they are meant to. What looks like delay may be divine timing, what looks like denial may be divine protection. What looks like loss may be divine redirection. Faith is not built in certainty alone, but in trusting Allah when certainty is absent.
One day, while others around us are celebrating, grieving, achieving, struggling, marrying, giving birth, or burying loved ones, we too will become part of another scene. Our chapter will close not because we failed or succeeded, but because our time was complete. And the ultimate question will not be how much we owned, how long we lived, or how high we rose, but how sincerely we walked with Allah. Not how loudly our names were praised, but how quietly our deeds spoke when no one was watching.
Thus, we learn to say Alhamdulillah in ease and hardship, in gain and loss, in certainty and confusion because gratitude is not tied to circumstance but to trust. Trust that every scene, no matter how complex, remains under the perfect control of the One who makes no mistakes. Trust that no pain is wasted, no prayer ignored, no tear unseen, and no soul forgotten.
Under one sky, many stories unfold, some bright, some broken, some hopeful, some heavy — but none are meaningless. Each carries a lesson, a reminder, and a return. And in every moment, whether in joy or sorrow, gain or loss, life or death, Allah remains exactly who He has always been: Perfect in wisdom, complete in mercy, unmatched in power, and eternal in care.