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Pious Latecomers: Chronicles of the Punctually Challenged

A special speech of appreciation for those who have mastered the sacred art of late arrival and have attained the highest distinction of showing up after the khutbah.

Hear me out! My heart would not rest until I give recognition to whom it is due. I want to appreciate those who deserve it; I want to talk about them so the whole world can hear. I want the whole world to know about their sacred art, or do they not deserve to be known?

There is a particular breed of University of Ibadan students, I mean Muslim students, that truly deserve our admiration and recognition, not for their "never-before-seen piety," but for their sheer commitment to an alternative lifestyle. They are just special, so special I could write a thousand-word eulogy just to sing their praises, yet I wouldn't still have done enough justice. But I would start here, at least so we know who they really are. Or do you not want to hear about them?

They, surely, are our brothers and sisters. Our brothers and sisters who have, through years of committed, consistent, determined and dedicated practice, perfected the art of entering the Masjid "late with aura." They have perfected the art of arriving at Jumu'ah just as the Imam is wrapping up the second khutbah, slipping into the last row and the Posteromedial of the masjid quietly and boldly with the confidence of a man who believes he has done something truly praiseworthy.

They are never late, mind you. It is simply unfortunate that the Imam started the khutbah too early. They are not latecomers; it is just a pity the Imam does not work with their wristwatch. And what a wristwatch it is. The African Watch. Always accurate. Every other watch runs exactly one hour ahead of it. Perhaps the Imam uses one of those inferior ones.

How do you recognise them?

Surely, you will recognise them. They leave their hostels and classes as early as possible, around 1:45 PM – a time that, by their calculation, is reasonably early. At least they would arrive before the salah. You see them in different shades of native dresses, native caps, hijabs, Abaya and shoes, walking gracefully and majestically like one who has already secured the ticket to Jannah. A special kind of lifestyle. This is neither carelessness nor negligence. This is a rare philosophy. A specially unique mentality.

Right there in their intelligent and thoughtful mind, they reason, "if I arrive early, I would have to sit through the entire khutbah and listen to the overly repetitive talk of the Imam on taqwa, accountability, and the fleeting nature of this dunya." Therefore, they would rather arrive "strategically early." Arriving strategically early means that they would only meet the takbeer, pray two rakaats, and leave spiritually refreshed without the burden of being reminded of too many of their shortcomings. Irresponsibility, you call it? No! I call it "tactics." Pure, effective tactics.

Perhaps someone should gently remind them that Jumu'ah begins long before the imam says "Allāhu Akbar." The khutbah is part of the very observance believers are commanded to hasten towards, not a ceremonial inconvenience to be bypassed in a race to catch the two raka'ats. Missing it is not a small matter. But perhaps they already know this, because that brings us to an even more fascinating specimen.

These are the ones who emerge gallantly after the congregation has dispersed. They appear from all directions of campus, looking freshly showered, fascinatingly put-together, unhurried. They spot the brothers folding their prayer mats, assess the situation calmly, and proceed to the front of the masjid to observe Salatul Dhuhr alone, with the quiet dignity of a man who has made his peace with himself and with his Lord. We will not probe further. We will simply observe.

Then there are the iconic excuses that follow;

"I was reading."

– Na for TikTok you dey read abi?

"I had no water to bathe"

– Dear brother, no be only you dey UI o.

"My roommate didn't wake me."

– Ah! Na afternoon we dey o, sister. Afternoon!

"I was doing something very important on my phone"

– Something more important than the call of Allah?

Each excuse, delivered with the pure sincerity of one who has genuinely convinced himself. They are not lying. They are simply concealing the breathtaking truth – that the bed was too comforting, that the phone was too interesting and the mosque somehow felt far away.

We do not judge these brothers and sisters. We do not condemn them. We simply observe them. We respect them, the way we respect a friend who always arrives to class late, yet still manages to write the attendance.

Now that you've heard about them, what do you think? Perhaps you are even one of them. Perhaps we are one of them, sometimes, on our weaker Fridays.

But we must ask ourselves; if Allah set the time, and the Imam kept to time, what then exactly is keeping our time?

The first row has blessings the last row would never dream of. The khutbah carries reminders our phones would never offer. And Jumu'ah, that weekly giveaway that Allah has personally invited us to, deserves to be received on time. Abi you no like giveaway?