The sun was just beginning to rise when the shouts reached our ears. I was carrying a basket of dates, walking behind my mother through the desert path, when we heard the people screaming: “Pharaoh’s army is coming! They will crush us!”
You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was one of the children of Israel — my family had lived under Pharaoh’s slavery our whole lives. The Prophet Musa — you may know him as Moses — had come with signs from Allah, and eventually Allah gave him permission to lead us away. I was there when we left Egypt, wondering how someone like Pharaoh, with all his wealth and power, had let us go. But my father said it wasn’t Pharaoh’s choice.
“It is Allah who freed us,” he told me. “Only He can break chains like ours.”
That morning, we hurried along the shore. The sea stretched out before us, endless and deep. Behind us, clouds of dust marked Pharaoh’s approaching army. I saw my younger sister cry. The waters were too wide; the chariots were too fast.
Many of us cried out. “Musa! They will catch us!”
I didn’t understand why my father remained calm.
Then I saw Musa walk to the edge of the sea. He held his staff up high, and I heard him speak — not to the people, but to his Lord. The sea trembled. The wind rose. And before my eyes, the water opened — two towering walls high above our heads, with a dry path between them.
My heart raced. This was no trick. This was no magic. This was a miracle from Allah.
We walked across the seabed, guided by Musa. I felt fear on both sides — the heavy walls of water, the sound of Pharaoh’s army now closer behind us. But we kept walking, and not one drop touched us.
Then, just as the last of us crossed, we heard the thunder of horses. From the other side, Pharaoh and his soldiers entered the sea path, chasing after us.
And that’s when I saw it: the waters crashing down. One moment they were charging through the same path; the next, the sea devoured them.
Pharaoh, the man who had called himself god, was drowning. I heard that in that last moment, he cried out that he believed — but it was too late. He had seen Musa’s signs, he had witnessed so many miracles, and still he had turned away… until there was no turning back.
We stood in silence, soaked in awe and relief. My hands trembled.
That day changed me. Not just because we were saved, but because I saw with my own eyes how pride and power mean nothing before Allah.
Pharaoh’s end wasn’t just a punishment — it was a sign. A warning. Allah is Most Merciful, but He is also Most Just.
And from that day on, I walked not in fear of Pharaoh, but in love of the One who split the sea for people like me.
—
Story Note: Inspired by Surah Yunus 10:90–92 and the classical commentaries of scholars like Ibn Kathir, this story reflects the downfall of Pharaoh and the rescue of Prophet Musa (Moses) and the children of Israel.
The sun was just beginning to rise when the shouts reached our ears. I was carrying a basket of dates, walking behind my mother through the desert path, when we heard the people screaming: “Pharaoh’s army is coming! They will crush us!”
You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was one of the children of Israel — my family had lived under Pharaoh’s slavery our whole lives. The Prophet Musa — you may know him as Moses — had come with signs from Allah, and eventually Allah gave him permission to lead us away. I was there when we left Egypt, wondering how someone like Pharaoh, with all his wealth and power, had let us go. But my father said it wasn’t Pharaoh’s choice.
“It is Allah who freed us,” he told me. “Only He can break chains like ours.”
That morning, we hurried along the shore. The sea stretched out before us, endless and deep. Behind us, clouds of dust marked Pharaoh’s approaching army. I saw my younger sister cry. The waters were too wide; the chariots were too fast.
Many of us cried out. “Musa! They will catch us!”
I didn’t understand why my father remained calm.
Then I saw Musa walk to the edge of the sea. He held his staff up high, and I heard him speak — not to the people, but to his Lord. The sea trembled. The wind rose. And before my eyes, the water opened — two towering walls high above our heads, with a dry path between them.
My heart raced. This was no trick. This was no magic. This was a miracle from Allah.
We walked across the seabed, guided by Musa. I felt fear on both sides — the heavy walls of water, the sound of Pharaoh’s army now closer behind us. But we kept walking, and not one drop touched us.
Then, just as the last of us crossed, we heard the thunder of horses. From the other side, Pharaoh and his soldiers entered the sea path, chasing after us.
And that’s when I saw it: the waters crashing down. One moment they were charging through the same path; the next, the sea devoured them.
Pharaoh, the man who had called himself god, was drowning. I heard that in that last moment, he cried out that he believed — but it was too late. He had seen Musa’s signs, he had witnessed so many miracles, and still he had turned away… until there was no turning back.
We stood in silence, soaked in awe and relief. My hands trembled.
That day changed me. Not just because we were saved, but because I saw with my own eyes how pride and power mean nothing before Allah.
Pharaoh’s end wasn’t just a punishment — it was a sign. A warning. Allah is Most Merciful, but He is also Most Just.
And from that day on, I walked not in fear of Pharaoh, but in love of the One who split the sea for people like me.
—
Story Note: Inspired by Surah Yunus 10:90–92 and the classical commentaries of scholars like Ibn Kathir, this story reflects the downfall of Pharaoh and the rescue of Prophet Musa (Moses) and the children of Israel.
