My journey from following Christianity to embracing Islam

For fifteen years, my life revolved around the Cross. I grew up in a devout Baptist family here in Kenya, where Sundays meant hymns, community meals after service, and the familiar wooden pew my family had used for generations. My faith was personal-Jesus was my savior, and the concept of the Trinity was my foundation. I never thought I would leave it behind. It all began with a question that lingered in my mind. During my second year at university, my roommate, Amir, observed the fasts of Ramadan. I watched him wake up before dawn for suhoor, eat a simple meal, and then not eat or drink anything until sunset. When I asked him why he did it, he said, "To feel the hunger of those less fortunate and to purify the heart." I admired his dedication but thought, That's not my path. Still, my curiosity grew. I borrowed his English translation of the Quran. Reading Surah Maryam (the Chapter of Mary) really struck me. There was Mary-Maryam-honored above all women, visited by an angel, given Jesus as a mercy from Allah. She wasn't diminished; she was exalted. And Jesus, known as the Messiah, was born of a virgin, healed the blind, and raised the dead by Allah's permission. But he was not God's son-he was a beloved prophet of Allah. The verse "Say not 'Three'... Indeed, Allah is one God" (4:171) stayed with me for weeks. I was raised to believe in "God in three persons." But as I grew older, this concept increasingly troubled my heart. If Allah is truly One-indivisible, all-powerful, needing no partner or child-then why add to Him? I began quietly whispering the Shahada to myself: "La ilaha illa Allah." There is no god but Allah. The most difficult part was reconciling my love for Jesus. I didn't want to lose him. Then I realized: in Islam, I didn't lose him. I found him again-as a prophet, a sign, a spirit from Allah, but not as Allah Himself. That distinction, which once scared me, became a source of freedom. I could love Jesus without compromising the absolute oneness of Allah. One night, after months of reading, praying, and many tearful moments alone, I went to the local masjid. I sat at the back, listening to the Adhan-the call to prayer. After the Isha prayer, the imam noticed me. I told him, hesitantly, "I think... I think I want to declare the Shahada." He smiled gently and said, "Brother, you don't say it because you think. You say it because you know." And I knew. That night, with only him and Allah as witnesses, I said the words in Arabic, then in English: "I bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is His messenger." Something opened up inside me. It wasn't about rejecting my past-it felt like a completion. All those years of loving God, of bowing my head in church-I was finally bowing fully, my forehead to the ground in sajdah, declaring: Allah alone. No intermediaries. No divisions. Just Allah. My mother cried when I told her. She asked, "Do you still believe Jesus died for your sins?" I replied, "I believe Jesus was a prophet who pointed us to Allah. And Allah is so Merciful that He saves whoever turns to Him alone." She didn't understand my choice and decided not to speak to me for several days. Eventually, my family told me I had to leave the house because they couldn't live with a Muslim under the same roof. Now, Alhamdulillah, I pray five times a day. I fast during Ramadan. I read both the Bible and the Quran with respect. But I am currently without a home, and sometimes it is very difficult to find food, as finding work here is hard. Alhamdulillah for everything. All praise belongs to Allah, the Most Merciful.