15 years ago, I met Joe who was in the same class as me. Unkempt hair, filthy shoes, clothes that reek of mustiness and above all else, is socially awkward. He had no friends. I evaded him for I was afraid his smell might rub off on me. But fate has it that we were made partners for an assignment. The day Joe decided to open his door and let me in his house, I found out that his family was so heavily in debt that they could hardly afford food, let alone a washing machine or new shoes.

But this story is not about Joe.

You see, that was the day I realised that it’s so easy to overlook these tenebrous depths of the human basement. Because it’s so much easier to shun them and continue living our lives, choosing to look at the world through rose-tinted glasses instead. There are so many people who are not getting the assistance that they need and falling through the cracks in the system and I want to help them. And then I discovered the existence of social workers. The merchants of morality that commit their lives to solving the ills of society, who know and understand the depths of the human experience and who are present when abused children are removed from their parents, when husbands batter their wives and when teenage girls report that they are pregnant. Oh how wonderful to be one of them!

And indeed it is. But what happens when almost EVERYDAY you encounter death, children beaten and burned by their own parents, the trauma of rape, frustration of disability and adults who are tormented by their own hallucinations?

On one hand, I have met children who lost their mothers to illnesses and on the other, I have also met teenagers who treat their parents like enemies. So bloody rude that the only thing stopping me from slapping them is the oath I was made to take. On one hand, I have met fathers who refuse to work and would prefer to bum around at home, watching their own children starve and on the other, I have met mothers who would sell themselves so that they can afford formula and diapers. I have been yelled at and spat on. Because some of them just don’t understand that there is a limit to how much we can help.

It gets tiring. To be in a profession which requires you to be in touch with your emotions and yet, at the same time, that needs you to learn how to emotionally detach yourself.

It gets hard. When you’re underappreciated or worse, you start blaming yourself when you fail to change someone’s life.

Sure we had at least 3 years of memorising theories and protocols but when someone calls and he is on the verge of committing suicide, and it’s just between you and him, do you really think we have the time or the mental capacity to remember any of those?

And to think I have not even begin my journey as a professional social worker. It’s scary to think how easy it is to lose your hope in humanity. At times, not even Joe can make me remember why I chose this path in the first place. So much ugliness in this world and we’re made to face them every single day. At best, you become a cynic and at worst, a misanthrope.

But let’s not forget the one thing we can always count on: our faith. If you ever find yourself in the same rut as me, my friends, remember... Doing service for humanity is one of the greatest ways we can show our devotion to God. Islam (and other faiths as well, I’m sure) places great emphasis in helping others; it is a profound act of worship and a means of righteousness. Abu Hurayrah relates that Allah’s Messenger (PBUH) said: “Whoever removes one of the hardships of a believing soul, Allah will remove from him one of the distresses on the Hereafter.”

If everything we do is for the sake of Allah, then may we always be blessed and protected, insyaAllah.

And as long as there are people who need help and are willing to let me in their lives, then I will be there to offer them relief to the best of my ability, insyaAllah.

I am a social worker so please, let me in.