The ground shook beneath us that day.
I remember it well—not just the trembling earth, but the fear that filled our bones. I was a young apprentice, helping my uncle repair the city walls of the northern valley. You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was there when it happened—when the barrier that held back Gog and Magog finally broke.
I had grown up hearing the name Dhul-Qarnayn—a righteous ruler mentioned in the Qur’an. My grandfather used to say he was a servant of Allah who traveled the world, helping people and spreading justice. One of his greatest acts, they told me, was building a massive wall from iron and molten copper to trap two destructive tribes: Gog and Magog. According to Surah Al-Kahf—chapter 18 of the Qur’an—this wall was a mercy from Allah, keeping them sealed away until a time only Allah would allow.
We always knew that time would come. But no one expected it in our lifetime.
It began with strange groans from the mountains—deep, unnatural sounds, like something ancient waking up. At first we thought it was just wind or shifting rocks. That morning, my uncle paused his work and stared toward the high cliffs. “They are pressing harder,” he whispered.
He didn’t need to say who.
Gog and Magog were not ordinary people. Our scholars tell us they are two mighty nations, known for destruction, corruption, and chaos. It was said that even Dhul-Qarnayn’s wall could barely hold them in.
By afternoon, the first cracks opened. A humming sound, like metal under strain, echoed through the valley. I saw the elders gather, faces pale beneath their turbans. The sky above seemed too quiet. Then the wall gave way—not all at once, but like a wound torn open slowly by force.
My heart pounded as the roar of tearing iron filled the air. We ran. Behind us, black shapes began to pour through the gap—so far away I couldn’t see their faces, only dust and motion. My uncle pulled me behind a stone archway, shielding me as the ground trembled again.
In that moment, I remembered something from the Qur’an we learned in the masjid—the verses in Surah Al-Kahf that said: when the wall falls, Gog and Magog will surge down from every height, and the people will say, “Woe to us,” and the Promised Time will draw near.
That was the part that shook me most.
Because it meant we were closer to the end.
Closer to the Day of Judgment.
But strangely, I wasn’t just afraid. I was awake. I realized then that the stories weren’t just stories. They were warnings—signs from Allah to prepare myself.
That night, I sat beside my uncle by the fire. I asked him, “Will Allah protect us?”
He looked at me quietly and said, “If we turn to Him. If we obey Him. He always does.”
And so I did. From that day forward, I prayed not just out of habit—but from the heart. Because the Wall of Gog and Magog taught me something powerful: no barrier lasts forever, but Allah’s promise always does.
Story Note: Inspired by Surah Al-Kahf (18:94–99) and classical tafsir accounts, including traditions noted by Ibn Kathir and al-Tabari regarding Dhul-Qarnayn and the wall built to contain Gog and Magog.
The ground shook beneath us that day.
I remember it well—not just the trembling earth, but the fear that filled our bones. I was a young apprentice, helping my uncle repair the city walls of the northern valley. You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was there when it happened—when the barrier that held back Gog and Magog finally broke.
I had grown up hearing the name Dhul-Qarnayn—a righteous ruler mentioned in the Qur’an. My grandfather used to say he was a servant of Allah who traveled the world, helping people and spreading justice. One of his greatest acts, they told me, was building a massive wall from iron and molten copper to trap two destructive tribes: Gog and Magog. According to Surah Al-Kahf—chapter 18 of the Qur’an—this wall was a mercy from Allah, keeping them sealed away until a time only Allah would allow.
We always knew that time would come. But no one expected it in our lifetime.
It began with strange groans from the mountains—deep, unnatural sounds, like something ancient waking up. At first we thought it was just wind or shifting rocks. That morning, my uncle paused his work and stared toward the high cliffs. “They are pressing harder,” he whispered.
He didn’t need to say who.
Gog and Magog were not ordinary people. Our scholars tell us they are two mighty nations, known for destruction, corruption, and chaos. It was said that even Dhul-Qarnayn’s wall could barely hold them in.
By afternoon, the first cracks opened. A humming sound, like metal under strain, echoed through the valley. I saw the elders gather, faces pale beneath their turbans. The sky above seemed too quiet. Then the wall gave way—not all at once, but like a wound torn open slowly by force.
My heart pounded as the roar of tearing iron filled the air. We ran. Behind us, black shapes began to pour through the gap—so far away I couldn’t see their faces, only dust and motion. My uncle pulled me behind a stone archway, shielding me as the ground trembled again.
In that moment, I remembered something from the Qur’an we learned in the masjid—the verses in Surah Al-Kahf that said: when the wall falls, Gog and Magog will surge down from every height, and the people will say, “Woe to us,” and the Promised Time will draw near.
That was the part that shook me most.
Because it meant we were closer to the end.
Closer to the Day of Judgment.
But strangely, I wasn’t just afraid. I was awake. I realized then that the stories weren’t just stories. They were warnings—signs from Allah to prepare myself.
That night, I sat beside my uncle by the fire. I asked him, “Will Allah protect us?”
He looked at me quietly and said, “If we turn to Him. If we obey Him. He always does.”
And so I did. From that day forward, I prayed not just out of habit—but from the heart. Because the Wall of Gog and Magog taught me something powerful: no barrier lasts forever, but Allah’s promise always does.
Story Note: Inspired by Surah Al-Kahf (18:94–99) and classical tafsir accounts, including traditions noted by Ibn Kathir and al-Tabari regarding Dhul-Qarnayn and the wall built to contain Gog and Magog.
