At just eighteen years old, Sundus stood at a crossroads familiar to many young people in Aotearoa. She had recently completed her NCEA Level 3 qualifications at her Christchurch college, celebrating alongside classmates who were excitedly preparing for university life. Some were packing to move into halls of residence, others were finalising enrolments for degrees in health, engineering, commerce, and the arts. Surrounded by all the talk of careers and student loans, Sundus felt both proud of her achievements and quietly anxious about her own path, because hers was different.
For as long as she could remember, Sundus had been drawn to the study of her deen. She grew up attending weekend classes at her local masjid, memorising Qur’an and finding comfort and identity in the teachings of Islam. Over the years, she had become a volunteer youth mentor, helping younger girls with tajwīd and supporting new converts in the community. That experience sparked something deeper in her – a desire to dedicate herself fully to Islamic studies and, one day, serve her community as a teacher, chaplain, or counsellor.
While her friends were submitting university applications through the usual pathways, Sundus researched Islamic institutes across New Zealand and Australia. She found a respected programme taught by qualified scholars and tailored for students seeking a structured, in-depth journey through the Qur’an, hadith, fiqh, and Arabic. It felt like the place she was meant to be.
But StudyLink did not consider this an approved programme. No student loan. No allowance. No support. The news hit her hard. Her family lived modestly, already managing rent, food costs, and supporting younger siblings. She couldn’t place additional financial pressure on them, and part-time work would barely cover the cost of tuition, let alone books and transport.
For several weeks, Sundus felt overwhelmed. She questioned whether she should follow her passion or choose a more conventional path. But every time she walked into the masjid or opened a book of tafsīr, her heart settled. She knew that sacred knowledge of faith was something worth striving for. Still, wanting something deeply does not make it financially possible.
It was her Arabic teacher who encouraged her to contact the New Zealand Zakat Foundation. The Foundation had previously supported students of Islamic knowledge, recognising the importance of nurturing future scholars, youth workers, chaplains, imams, and educators who understand the unique realities of being Muslim in Aotearoa.
With hesitation, Sundus submitted an application, unsure of what to expect. But the process was gentle, respectful, and grounded in the principles of dignity and trust. After reviewing her circumstances and academic commitment, the foundation awarded her a scholarship that covered her tuition and essential study costs. The relief was overwhelming, as she could now pursue her studies without being weighed down by financial stress.
Today, Sundus attends daily classes, balancing her studies with volunteering at her local masjid’s youth programmes. She dreams of returning this gift to the community by becoming the kind of teacher who inspires young people the way she was inspired.
Her story reflects the purpose of zakat: not only to relieve hardship but to invest in the future of the Muslim community in New Zealand. Through zakat, we nurture the next generation of leaders, ensuring that Islamic knowledge, guidance, and service continue to flourish for years to come.
