My name is Rashid Farukqai. I’m married and the father of four children, two boys and two girls.

Before my conversion, I was a faithful follower of Islam. I come from a lineage considered sacred among Muslims, a direct descendant of the seventh Imam, Musa Al- Kazm, which according to tradition places me in the bloodline of the prophet Muhammad himself.

My father, a highly respected shik, was the leader of one of the largest Muslim clans in the region, the al-Sahed Almi.

Our family enjoyed influence, prestige, and a comfortable financial situation. From a young age, my life revolved around religion.

I was taught to be an example, a model for others to follow. And so, I observed every Islamic precept with extreme zeal.

It was in the year 1987 during my military service that something completely unexpected happened.

For the first time in my life, I met a Christian. I knew there were Christians in my country, but I had never had direct contact with any since my circle of friends was entirely Muslim.

My view of them came only from what I read in the Quran. For us, they were considered impure infidels.

His name was Nadem and to my surprise he was a kind, upright and respectful man.

This made me uncomfortable because according to my belief, someone like him was destined for hell.

So I decided I would try to convert him to Islam. My first move was to ask him for a copy of the gospel.

I wanted to prove that what the Quran said was true, that Christians had corrupted the original scriptures.

For me, this would be the perfect opportunity to show that the Bible had been adulterated.

But before handing me the book, Nadim made a curious request. He wanted me to read the Quran with genuine attention, seeking to understand every word.

This intrigued me because I already read the Quran daily, especially during the month of Ramadan when we recited it in its entirety.

The difference was that he didn’t want me to simply repeat verses from memory, but rather to delve into the true meaning of each one.

This proposal resonated with me. After all, I knew the Quran by heart, but I had never stopped to reflect deeply on its messages.

I then decided to seek out a respected imam in my community, someone who had known me since I was a boy and treated me almost like a son.

I told him about the challenge I had received. He explained to me that to truly understand the Quran, I would need to master Arabic in its most profound form, understand its grammar, and in addition, study the contexts and commentaries of the suras.

He also said that correct interpretation would require reading at least 500 books on the chapters of the Quran.

At that moment, I thought it would be impossible and even considered giving up. But something inside me kept pushing me forward.

I began rereading the Quran. Now with the goal of understanding, not just reciting. Every question that arose brought me back to the Imam.

And every answer he gave me raised new questions. This quest took me down a path I never imagined.

As I deepened my study of the Quran and the most respected biographies of Muhammad, I began to notice contradictions and inconsistencies I had never noticed before.

As I delved deeper into my studies, certain things began to bother me deeply. I discovered accounts of Muhammad that made me question whether he should truly be seen as a role model.

I found records of him engaging in acts of violence, including murder and looting. And this affected me in a way I hadn’t expected.

What shocked me most was discovering that he had 63 wives. The first 20 years his senior, the last a mere six-year-old child.

This for me was impossible to accept. After days of reflecting on all this, I made a painful but firm decision.

I left Islam behind. Sometime later, I met again Adem, that young Christian I’d met in the army.

He remembered the promise he had made and asked me if I still wanted a copy of the gospel.

I was sincere and accepted. The night before he would give me the Bible, something extraordinary happened.

I had a dream that would completely change the course of my life. I was standing before a narrow stream barely more than a meter wide.

On the other side stood a man whose presence drew me in inexplicably. I felt a deep desire to reach him.

But when I tried to cross, I found myself suspended in midair, unable to move forward.

It was then that he looked at me with compassion, extended his hand, and said, “If you want to come to me, you must first eat the bread of life.”

I woke up that morning with my heart racing and the phrase echoing within me.

I had never heard of the bread of life. It was completely new to me.

Later that same day, Nadim appeared with the gospel. I eagerly grabbed the book and went to a corner, determined to open it and read what I could find.

Without thinking, I opened it to a random page. It was chapter 6 of the Gospel of John.

The first sentence that met my eyes was, “I am the bread of life.” At that moment, I felt a shock run through my body.

It was exactly what the man in the dream had told me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this man was Jesus and that God himself was inviting me to know the truth.

The presence of Christ enveloped me in a way I can’t explain. With my heart filled with this certainty, I decided to put my faith in him and believe his words.

From then on, I began searching for a Christian community. I knew that most Christians in Iraq lived in Baghdad, so I sought them out, wanting to attend a service, even if only once.

But the reception wasn’t easy. I was rejected everywhere I tried to enter. People were afraid of me.

And to be honest, I understood. The Quran contains clear passages that order the death of those who abandon Islam.

And there is also a hadith attributed to Muhammad saying that anyone who changes their religion must be killed.

And if the person left Islam to become Christian, the punishment would be even more severe.

It didn’t take long for my family to notice something was different about me. My parents began investigating.

One day, they asked my oldest son, who was only 4 years old, and he made the sign of the cross.

That immediately raised alarm bells. They searched the house and found a hidden gospel. Shortly thereafter, I was arrested and taken before the Muslim authorities.

They issued a fatwa against me, decreeing my death. My father, who always loved me deeply, tried to intervene.

My father loved me very much, but he did everything he could to make me abandon my faith in Christ.

There were threats, attempts to convince me in every way, but nothing could shake my resolve.

Because of this, I ended up being arrested and taken to one of the worst prisons in Iraq, where I spent a year and four months of my life.

The first three months were a nightmare. I was constantly beaten, tortured, and humiliated. Yet, amidst all the pain, there was something that sustained me.

Jesus words in the gospel warning that we would be persecuted, mistreated, and rejected for his name’s sake.

And I accepted this with joy, knowing I was suffering for his sake. There in the secret service prison, I was interrogated repeatedly.

Always the same three questions. What church do you attend? What’s the name of the priest who accompanies you?

And who was the Christian who spoke to you about faith? By the grace of God, I never answered any of them.

After a year and 4 months, God opened the door to my freedom. But there was still one problem.

In Iraq, being baptized as a Christian was practically impossible. I knew that if I stayed there, my own family would persecute me and perhaps try to kill me, covering it all up as an accident or a fire.

I had no other options. I decided to leave my country and flee to Jordan.

It was there that on July 22nd, 2000, after 13 years of waiting, I was finally baptized.

Sometime later, I went to Ammon to do some shopping. In the middle of the street, I was approached by members of my family, an uncle, and four of my brothers.

They surrounded me and to avoid attracting attention invited me into their car. I had no choice as I was in Jordan illegally without a visa.

I got in and we drove for about 20 minutes until we reached a deserted valley between mountains far from any sign of life.

It was then that my uncle, with a cold look in his eyes, told me that my father had ordered me to be taken back, dead or alive.

They had tried every way to convince me to abandon my faith. But now, baptized and firm in Christ, I was no longer afraid.

I knew my life was in God’s hands and nothing else mattered. As I spoke about Jesus, faith, baptism, and the love of God, things I had never encountered in Islam.

I could tell my words were deeply disturbing to them. My uncle then recalled the fatwa against me which decreed my death and said coldly, “If you don’t come back with us, I’ll have to kill you.”

I looked into his eyes and answered with the firmness that God gave me, “If you want to kill me, then do it.”

It was at that moment that he pointed the gun directly at my chest and said, “Your disease is Christ and there is no cure for it.”

Then he fired. The shot was point blank and the bullet hit me squarely. I honestly thought that would be my last moment.

I was defenseless, powerless to react and I placed my life in God’s hands. But while I was still there before them, I heard a female voice saying, “Run, run, run away.”

Without thinking, I started running. The five of them started shooting at me. I heard the sound of bullets whizzing past, cutting through the air around me.

It was excruciating. After a few meters, I felt intense pain in my leg and fell limp, losing consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital. Still confused, I heard the doctor talking to someone.

He’s been shot. Call the police. I immediately asked them not to call anyone until they examined me.

I explained that if it wasn’t something fatal, I’d prefer to leave and seek other treatment so as not to be identified.

He agreed and examined me. Then he said, “You were only hit once in the left leg, in the muscle.

It was a relief. I knew I could go home.” So I called a nun.

The nun who cared for us sent a taxi to pick me up. When I got home, three doctors were already waiting for me with her.

They examined my leg and confirmed that the bullet was still lodged. The doctor was able to identify the entry point, but the strangest thing was that there was no sign of exit.

They tried contacting several hospitals to schedule surgery, but all refused to see me without a police report.

It was at that moment that blood suddenly began gushing from the side opposite the bullet’s entry wound.

The doctor was completely lost, trying to trace the bullet’s trajectory, but to no avail.

Among the doctors was a Christian surgeon. He was puzzled by the fact that the bullet didn’t follow a straight line.

The next day, we were secretly taken to a military hospital where he worked. They performed an X-ray, and the result was even more surprising.

The bullet simply wasn’t there. The surgeon, amazed, said to me, “That bullet tore through your bones, muscles, and tendons, but in an inexplicable way, didn’t damage any of them.

It zigzagged its way through your leg. There’s no human explanation for that.” After that, my family and I began moving every night, afraid my relatives would still be looking for me.

Shortly thereafter, France agreed to grant us a visa. We found refuge in this wonderful country, which welcomed us with open arms.

It’s where we live to this day. The fatwa against me remains in effect. It has no expiration date.

It can be enforced at any time and in any place. Sometime after our arrival in France, I began trying to reestablish contact with my family.

I managed to talk to some of my brothers. And here comes the most incredible part.

One of them, with whom I had been in contact by phone, converted. Today, he is baptized.

And you know what impresses me most? He was present on the day of the attack and was one of the people who shot me.

This is a living testament to God’s protection. He kept me and guided me through moments that seemed impossible to bear.

When I look back, I feel nothing but gratitude, knowing that it was he who saved me, not only physically but spiritually.

Above all, I thank the Lord for transforming my brother. And I want to make something very clear.

I do not hate Muslims. Many people think that because I was persecuted and tortured by them, I should harbor hatred.

But that’s not the case. On the contrary, when I met Christ, my heart was filled with love.

I hold no resentment. I love Muslims and it is this love that motivates me to speak out.

However, what I’ve experienced and seen within Islam has made me reflect on the negative effects religion can have when misinterpreted or distorted.

Therefore, I make an appeal to everyone, especially Muslims. Read the Quran sincerely. Seek to truly understand it without relying solely on what you’re told.

Seek the truth with an open heart without intermediaries. Today, with so much information accessible, it’s possible to seek knowledge with greater clarity and discernment.

Reflect. Delve deeper and don’t accept everything simply because of external pressure. And the last thing I want to say to Christians and Muslims is that God is love.

Pure love and love, love is God himself. This is the most powerful and profound truth we can hold in our hearts.

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me the opportunity to share my story with you.

Even today, the fatwa against me remains active, issued by some Muslims in my country.

This means my life remains at risk. I live in hiding, constantly moving from place to place, maintaining anonymity.

It’s sad, but this is the reality I face. I want to make it clear that my intention is not to generalize or condemn all Muslims, much less to attack the religion as a whole.

What I do is denounce certain precepts of the Quran that in certain contexts end up being applied in an inhumane manner that violates human rights.

We cannot pretend this doesn’t exist. My testimony is powerful because it reveals God’s compassion, love, and mercy that have accompanied me throughout this journey.

There’s a difference between people and religion itself. But it is also necessary to reflect on certain practices and teachings.

It’s worth remembering that like me, many Muslims have had revelations from Jesus through dreams.

These experiences are truly special. Every day, more and more people are being touched by him in a supernatural way, just as I was.

Sadly, persecution of Christians in countries like Iraq and Egypt is still a harsh reality.

Many are imprisoned simply for believing in Christ. Little is said about this, but we need to pray not only for persecuted Christians, but also for their persecutors.

I remember Paul’s example. He persecuted Christians, but his life was transformed when he encountered Jesus on the road to Damascus.

We can and should pray that those who persecute us also have a real encounter with Jesus and be reached by his love.

And this is the most glorious part of my testimony. In the midst of pain and suffering, God brought redemption.

Even my own brother, one of those who shot me, was touched by the Lord and converted.

This is proof that there is no heart that God cannot transform. Another important lesson I carry with me is the value of evangelization.

In my case, a Christian had the courage to share the gospel with me, even at great risk.

It was because of this courage that my life was forever transformed. This teaches me that we cannot remain silent.

There are many lost people thirsty to know the truth, but who don’t know where to go.

Jesus is the light that can guide them and he wants to do this through us.

We are his outstretched hands in this world. Finally, crucial to my faith journey was my sincere effort to seek truth both intellectually and spiritually.

God honored this sincerity and gave me clear answers not only through scripture but also through supernatural experiences such as the times he protected me in inexplicable ways.

This showed me that God keeps us in ways we can’t always understand. But we know we are safe in his hands.

And as I learned firsthand, the best bulletproof vest there is is Jesus Christ. He is my protection.

He could have allowed me to die on many occasions, but he protected me. And that bullet, which passed through my body without causing any major damage, is for me living proof of divine intervention.

Only God could have done something like that. I hope we can all seek the truth with sincerity and courage, and that God’s love may deeply touch each heart as it has touched mine.

It is with this trust in the Lord that we move forward knowing that he protects us at all times.

The beauty of this testimony is that it challenges us to look within ourselves and reflect on how we live our faith.

We often talk about Islam, but few truly know this religion in depth because they haven’t lived its practice daily.

I did. I knew the most intimate and complex aspects of the Muslim faith, including its challenges and contradictions.

But when I met Jesus, everything changed radically. I understood that he is the alpha and the omega, the true way, and that outside of him, there is no other way to eternal life.

This story should make us reflect on the value of the Christian faith. I was willing to give my life for Christ.

And yet, many in simple everyday situations hesitate to even say they are Christians when they have the opportunity to testify.

I want to encourage you to love radically, including those who rise up against you.

Pray for those who persecute you just as Jesus taught us. Lord, thank you for the testimony you have given me.

I ask that you protect all those who, like me, have found faith in you and now face persecution.

May your powerful hand cover everyone living in danger, strengthening them to continue being living witnesses of your love and presence.

You are the living God, the only God, and we want to follow your example.

May we, as your disciples, show love even to those who do not share our faith because you taught us to trust in your word.

In the world, we will experience afflictions, but we must be of good cheer for the Lord has already overcome the world.

I also ask Jesus that you awaken in us the same aror and desire for truth that you have placed in my heart.

We want to seek you with all our being. I believe this is a special moment in which you want to reveal yourself to many who are listening to me now.

Hear his voice saying my son come to me. I have much to tell you.

I want to reveal secrets to you. Guide your steps, protect your life, and calm your heart.

Come know me. I am Jesus. Amen Lord. And now I speak to you my dear Muslim friend who is watching.

I want you to know that Jesus loves you and that there is a place reserved for you at the banquet of the lamb.

Lord, reveal yourself to them as you did to me because you are love. Jesus is truth and you, my Muslim brothers and sisters, are loved by him and by us.

I also ask, Lord, that you break down every barrier and judgment that may exist between us.

And that a burning love capable of transforming hearts may be born in the place of any division.

May brotherly love be born in our hearts. A love that comes straight from your heart.

Lord Jesus, enter the lives of all those who do not yet truly know you or who think they know you but have never truly encountered you.

Thank you, Lord, because I know that your desire is to be known by all.

Light was not meant to be hidden under a basket, but to be placed high like a lamp that illuminates everyone in the house.

We as Christians are called to be light in the world. Lord, make us living lights so that we may reflect your love and your truth.

May our words and actions bear witness to your greatness and may through our lives others find you.

You who are the light of the world. Now I want to extend an invitation to you who are watching.

Write in the comments the names of people of other religions for whom you would like to pray so that they too may encounter the Lord.

We present each of these names before you, Jesus. And we ask that these people experience your love.

Amen. And I ask you, which part of this testimony spoke most to your heart?

Have you ever stopped to think about the truth that guides your life? What have you been seeking as your greatest goal?

My story is a call for us not to live up passive faith, but to seek with all our hearts to know who God truly is and what he wants for us.

Perhaps you are experiencing doubts, struggles, or even persecution. Or perhaps, as happened to me, you are feeling an inner voice saying, “Come.”

Don’t ignore that voice. Today could be the day you take a step of faith, a step toward a real relationship with God.

Ask yourself, “Have I sincerely sought the truth? Would I have the courage to give my life for something greater as I did?

My testimony proves that Jesus transforms lives, protects, guides, and heals. So, what’s stopping you from experiencing this transformation?

If this story touched you, please share in the comments what touched your heart most.

We want to hear your story and pray for you. And if you know someone who needs to hear this message, send this video to them.

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There’s still much to learn and I want us to walk this journey together. May God bless your life powerfully.