I must confess that I am tired — deeply tired — of racism appearing to sit at the centre of so many of the world’s problems. Whether openly displayed or quietly hidden beneath systems, politics, fear, and division, racism repeatedly seems to rear its head, separating people who, in truth, are far more alike than different.

At times, I find myself asking: why does racism even exist? Why can human beings hate so vehemently because of the colour of another person’s skin? Skin — something no human being chooses, something gifted by the Creator. How has something as superficial as colour become a reason for distrust, discrimination, injustice, and even violence?

More importantly, will racism ever end?

As a Muslim, I turn to Islam for understanding. What I find is not confusion, but clarity.

Islam came into a world deeply divided by tribalism, class, lineage, and superiority. People judged one another based on ancestry and status. Yet the message of Islam challenged this thinking entirely.

Allah says in the Koran: “O mankind! We created you from a single male and female and made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another. Verily, the most honoured of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you.” (49:13)

This verse speaks profoundly to me. Allah did not create difference as a reason for hatred. He created diversity so humanity might know one another, learn from one another, and appreciate the richness of different peoples and cultures. Take our Bermuda Day for example; what a beautiful array of cultures blended within our small island home.

In Islam, superiority is not found in race, wealth, nationality, or appearance — but in character, righteousness, and sincerity before Allah. Interestingly, when reflecting on the roots of racism and superiority, one could argue that the first display of what resembles racism occurred long before human history unfolded.

In Islam, Iblis — whom we know as Satan — refused Allah’s command to bow to Adam. His reasoning was not based on obedience to God but on arrogance and perceived superiority.

He said: “I am better than him. You created me from fire and created him from clay.” (Koran 7:12)

How striking those words are: I am better than him.

At its core, racism rests on the same poisonous belief — that one person or people are somehow superior to another because of origin, appearance, ethnicity, or background. Iblis judged Adam not by character, purpose, or divine wisdom, but by what he believed was a superior creation. Pride blinded him. In many ways, racism reflects that same disease of the heart: arrogance disguised as justification.

Yet perhaps one of the clearest signs that hatred is not natural is found in children. Hate is learnt. It is acquired. Observe little children playing innocently together and one often sees laughter before difference, kindness before suspicion, and friendship before division.

Children of different colours frequently play, share, laugh, and care for one another without the burden of prejudice adults sometimes carry. They do not instinctively hate; they are often taught fear, bias, and separation by the world around them.

This, perhaps, should make us pause and reflect. If innocence naturally leans towards connection, then racism is not humanity’s original state — it is something nurtured, fed, and passed down.

There is something else that should give humanity profound pause for thought. When a person desperately needs a blood transfusion to survive, or an organ transplant to save their life, the race of the donor suddenly becomes irrelevant.

In moments of illness, pain, or vulnerability, people are rarely asking: what colour was the hand that helped me? They are simply grateful for life itself.

Blood sustains life regardless of ethnicity. A donated heart beats in a chest regardless of race. A kidney functions without concern for nationality or skin colour. Surely that reality should teach us something deep: beneath all the labels humanity creates, we are far more connected than divided.

If our bodies themselves recognise our shared humanity, why do our hearts sometimes struggle to do the same?

Our beloved Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) confronted racism directly during his Farewell Sermon when he declared that no Arab is superior to a non-Arab, no non-Arab superior to an Arab, no white person superior to a Black person, nor a Black person superior to a white person — except through piety and good deeds.

These were not merely beautiful words; they were revolutionary principles aimed at uprooting prejudice from the human heart. Yet, if Islam is so clear, why does racism still exist — even a lot of times among Muslims?

I believe the answer lies in human weakness. Faith may guide us, but ego still whispers. Cultural prejudice, inherited assumptions, fear of difference, and social conditioning often cloud the moral teachings we claim to believe in. Sometimes culture becomes louder than faith, and people justify division rather than challenge it.

Truthfully, I long for a world where people are seen first through the lens of their humanity rather than suspicion or stereotype. Imagine how different our societies might be if dignity replaced prejudice, curiosity replaced fear, and compassion replaced judgment.

Will racism ever disappear completely? I do not know. Human beings are imperfect, and prejudice has existed for centuries. But Islam teaches hope, not despair. Every act of justice matters. Every conversation matters. Every person who challenges racism in themselves and others contributes to healing.

Prophet Muhammad said: “Allah does not look at your bodies or your appearance, but He looks at your hearts and your deeds.”

Perhaps ending racism begins not only with governments or slogans, but with hearts willing to confront pride, embrace humility, and truly see one another as part of one human family under one Creator.

May Bermuda be blessed with the spirit of One Love, unity, and mutual respect.

May Allah keep our hearts firm upon faith, soften them with mercy, and protect them from hardness, doubt, arrogance, and despair. Ameen.

As salaam alaikum (peace be unto you)

• Linda Walia Ming is a member of the Bermuda Hijab Dawah Team, a group of Muslim women who reside in Bermuda and have a goal of educating the community about the religion of Islam