You’ve been waking at this hour for months now, not for Fajr—though you tell yourself you’ll pray after checking your phone—but to work on your side hustle before your main job starts at 9. Historical Islamic accounts preserved through centuries teach us about a people who lived exactly like this: the tribe of Thamud. They had stone palaces carved into mountains. They had wealth beyond measure. They had three days before everything turned to dust.
You scroll through Instagram. Someone your age just bought their third rental property. Another one is posting from Bali while their “passive income” stacks up. The knot in your stomach tightens. You’re 32. You’re still in the same apartment. Same car. Same job. You whisper Alhamdulillah, but you don’t mean it.
Here’s what nobody’s telling you: Thamud didn’t fall because they were poor. They fell because they couldn’t stop.
When Your Mountain Palace Becomes Your Prison
The Holy Quran, tells us about the people of Thamud in vivid detail. They lived in a place called Hijr, situated between what we now know as Tabuk and Medina.
They weren’t struggling. They were thriving. They carved elaborate homes directly into mountains—palaces that would stand for centuries. They inherited the earth after the destruction of the people of ‘Ad, and they multiplied their blessings exponentially.
But listen to what Allah ﷻ says about them in the Holy Quran:
[Surah Ash-Shu’ara, Ayah 146-149]
“Will you be left secure in what you have here? In gardens and springs, and cornfields and palm trees with fine spathes? And you hew out dwellings in the mountains, exultingly.”
See that word? Exultingly. They weren’t just building homes. They were showing off. They were competing. They were measuring their self-worth by the square footage carved into rock.
Sound familiar?
You’re not carving mountains anymore. You’re building “empires.” You’re “grinding.” You’re “scaling.” Different words, same poison.
The Prophet They Refused to Hear
Allah ﷻ sent to Thamud their brother Saleh ﷺ—not a stranger, but one of their own. Prophet Saleh ﷺ was deeply trusted and respected among his people before his prophethood, known for his integrity and good character.
His message was simple, as recorded in the Holy Quran preserved through divine protection:
[Surah Hud, Ayah 61]
“And to Thamud We sent their brother Salih. He said, ‘O my people, worship Allah; you have no deity other than Him. He has produced you from the earth and settled you in it, so ask forgiveness of Him and then repent to Him. Indeed, my Lord is near and responsive.'”
Prophet Saleh ﷺ wasn’t asking them to become poor. He wasn’t commanding them to abandon their homes or stop working. He was warning them about something deeper: their hearts had become attached to the wrong things.
They responded exactly how you respond when someone suggests you slow down. The Holy Quran records their answer:
[Surah Hud, Ayah 62]
“They said, ‘O Salih, you were among us one in whom we had placed hope before this. Do you forbid us to worship what our fathers worshipped? And indeed we are, about that to which you invite us, in disquieting doubt.'”
Translation: “We trusted you before you started talking like this. Our fathers did it this way. We’re doing fine. Why are you trying to ruin our success?”
Your parents worked two jobs. Your grandfather built his business from scratch. Everyone’s hustling. So what’s wrong with you doing the same?
The She-Camel Nobody Wanted to See
Prophet Saleh ﷺ had a she-camel that he used to travel between communities, spreading the message of monotheism and calling people back to Allah ﷻ. He made a simple request to his people, as recorded in the Holy Quran:
[Surah Al-A’raf, Ayah 73]
“And to Thamud [We sent] their brother Salih. He said, ‘O my people, worship Allah; you have no deity except Him. There has come to you clear evidence from your Lord. This is the she-camel of Allah [as] evidence to you. So leave her to eat within Allah’s land and do not touch her with harm, lest there seize you a painful punishment.'”
The she-camel represented something profound—it was a test of their willingness to make space for what matters, to not let their ambitions consume everything in their path.
But she was inconvenient. The she-camel would drink from the same wells they used. She would graze in areas they wanted for their own livestock. She slowed things down. She represented a limit they refused to accept.
You know exactly what your she-camel is. It’s Fajr prayer when you’re exhausted. It’s spending Friday night with your kids instead of “networking.” It’s turning down that opportunity that pays well but destroys your soul. It’s the voice inside you that whispers, “Maybe Allah ﷻ has a different plan than your business coach’s five-year roadmap.”
And just like Thamud, you keep thinking, “I’ll make time for that later. After this project. After this promotion. After I hit six figures.”
The Three-Day Warning Nobody Believed
The people of Thamud finally snapped. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ described the man who killed the she-camel as someone of high status and power in his nation, comparable to Abu Zam’ah in terms of influence.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as recorded in Sahih Al-Bukhari (Kitab Ahadithi l-Anbiya, Hadith 3377): “The man who was appointed for doing this job, was a man of honour and power in his nation like Abu Zam’ah.”
They didn’t just kill an animal. They were killing the last obstacle between them and total freedom to chase their ambitions without divine constraints.
Prophet Saleh ﷺ gave them a warning, as documented in the Holy Quran:
[Surah Hud, Ayah 65]
“But they hamstrung her. So he said, ‘Enjoy yourselves in your homes for three days. That is a promise not to be denied.'”
Three days was enough time to repent. It was enough time to realize what they’d done, to fall on their faces before Allah ﷻ, to change course. They had seventy-two hours to save themselves.
They spent those three days mocking Prophet Saleh ﷺ. They challenged him: “Bring us what you threaten us with, if you are indeed one of the Messengers.” They didn’t believe consequences were coming.
On the morning of the fourth day, a blast seized them. Scholars describe it as possibly an earthquake, a volcanic eruption, or a divine thunderbolt from the sky—the exact mechanism matters less than what it represents: when you refuse to stop, Allah ﷻ stops you.
[Surah Ash-Shams, Ayah 11-14]
“Thamud denied [their prophet] by reason of their transgression, when the most wretched of them was sent forth. And the messenger of Allah said to them, ‘[This is] the she-camel of Allah, so let her drink.’ But they denied him and hamstrung her. So their Lord brought down upon them destruction for their sin and made it equal [upon all of them].”
Their stone palaces stood empty. Centuries later, when the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ passed through Hijr with his companions during the Battle of Tabuk, he ordered them not to drink water from the wells there, explaining that this was a place of divine punishment.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, as recorded in Sahih Al-Bukhari (Kitab Ahadithi l-Anbiya’, Hadith 3378), commanded his companions when they arrived at the dwellings of Thamud not to drink from the wells or use the water, because this settlement was the place of divine punishment.
Everything they built. Everything they carved. Everything they hustled for. Gone.
What Hustle Culture Stole From Your Soul
Let me tell you something nobody’s saying: Allah ﷻ isn’t against success. Islamic teachings documented through centuries of scholarship never condemn ambition or hard work. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ himself was a successful merchant before his prophethood, and he praised those who worked with their own hands.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as preserved in Sahih Bukhari, when speaking of Prophet Dawud ﷺ: “David would never eat except from the earnings of his own hand’s work.”
Work is noble in Islam. Providing for your family is worship.
But here’s the poison that hustle culture injected into your veins: it made you believe that your worth is measured by your output, that rest is laziness, that if you’re not posting about your progress you’re falling behind, that Allah’s timing isn’t fast enough.
“Hustle culture” emphasizes personal success measured by wealth accumulation, power, and fame—often disguised with terms like “financial freedom” or “leaving a legacy”—while “barakah culture” focuses on seeking divine blessings and pleasure in every aspect of life through connection with Allah ﷻ.
Thamud had the same disease. They had enough. They had gardens, springs, cornfields, palm trees, and mountain palaces. But enough was never enough. They had to keep expanding, keep building, keep proving.
You have enough. You might not believe it because you’re comparing your Chapter 3 to someone else’s Chapter 20, but you have enough.
The Hadith That Destroys Comparison
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ knew you’d struggle with this. Fourteen centuries before Instagram, he warned about the exact trap you’re falling into.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as narrated in Jami’ At-Tirmidhi (Hadith 2517) and graded Hasan by Islamic scholars: A man asked, “O Messenger of Allah, should I tie my camel and trust in Allah, or should I leave her untied and trust in Allah?” The Prophet ﷺ said, “Tie her and trust in Allah.”myislam
You see that? You to do your part—tie the camel, work hard, plant the seeds—and then trust that Allah ﷻ will handle the outcome according to His wisdom, not according to your timeline or your business plan.
But then the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said:
“Be satisfied with what Allah has allotted for you and you shall be the richest of people.” (Tirmidhi)utrujj
Contentment—qana’a in Arabic—is the opposite of greed. If you’re not content with what you have, jealousy and envy breed inside you. You resent why others have more. You scroll through feeds comparing your behind-the-scenes to everyone else’s highlight reel.
Here’s what Allah ﷻ says about comparison:
[Surah Al-Hashr, Ayah 18]
“O you who have believed, fear Allah. And let every soul look to what it has put forth for tomorrow—and fear Allah. Indeed, Allah is Acquainted with what you do.”
Notice what’s missing? Allah ﷻ doesn’t say “look at what your neighbor put forth” or “compare your progress to the Instagram influencer.” You’re commanded to check in with yourself—your own progress, your own relationship with Allah ﷻ, your own spiritual state.
Who decides who is more praiseworthy? Who decides how much to reward someone? Only Allah ﷻ decides—not you, not your parents, not society, and certainly not social media metrics.
The Patience That Pays Differently
You’re tired. Islamic psychological studies combined with traditional teachings recognize that grinding without purpose, without spiritual grounding, exhausts more than your body—it depletes your soul.
But here’s what Allah ﷻ promised, as recorded in the Holy Quran:
[Surah Al-Baqarah, Ayah 153]
“O you who have believed, seek help through patience and prayer. Indeed, Allah is with the patient.”
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as documented in Sahih Bukhari (Book 24, Hadith 548): “Nobody can be given a blessing better and greater than patience.”
This isn’t passive waiting. Patience in Islam means you work hard, you plant seeds, you take action—but you don’t attach your peace to the outcome. You don’t destroy yourself chasing results that belong to Allah’s timing, not yours.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ taught, as recorded in Sahih Muslim: “Cherish that which gives you benefit in the Hereafter, seek help from Allah and do not lose heart.”
Another authentic narration states:
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as preserved in Sahih Bukhari (Hadith 1302): “Verily, patience is at the first stroke of a calamity.”
Real patience isn’t when you’ve processed everything and made peace with it. Real patience is in that first moment when everything falls apart—when the promotion goes to someone else, when the deal falls through, when your timeline doesn’t match Allah’s timeline—and you still say Alhamdulillah and mean it.
What Barakah Actually Looks Like
Islamic teachings documented through scholarly analysis define barakah as divine blessing that multiplies what you have beyond logic or mathematics. Barakah culture revolves around seeking divine pleasure in every aspect of life, including work, relationships, and personal growth, through knowing and connecting with Allah ﷻ.
Two people can have the same income. One is drowning. One feels abundant. The difference isn’t the number—it’s the barakah.
Thamud had wealth without barakah. They had everything and felt empty. They kept building, kept accumulating, kept hustling, because deep down they knew something was missing.
You can have less money and more barakah. Barakah means your small apartment feels like home, your modest meals taste satisfying, your time with family fills your cup, your work feels purposeful even if it’s not prestigious.
Here’s the Holy Quran’s formula for barakah:
[Surah Hud, Ayah 61]
“He has produced you from the earth and settled you in it, so ask forgiveness of Him and then repent to Him. Indeed, my Lord is near and responsive.”
See that? Allah ﷻ is near. He’s not far away waiting for you to achieve enough to deserve His attention. He’s near right now. He’s responsive right now. He’s listening to the duas you whisper at 3 AM when you finally admit you can’t do this alone.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, as preserved in authentic Islamic sources, taught: “The upper hand is better than the lower hand, the upper hand being the one that gives and the lower hand being the one that receives.” (Sahih Muslim)
Hard work in Islam is connected to self-sufficiency and generosity—you work so you can give, so you can be the upper hand that helps others. You don’t work just to accumulate and compare; you work to serve.
Three Actions That Break the Hustle Curse
Stop for a second. Take concrete steps you can take today.
1. Ask yourself before every opportunity: Will this bring me closer to Allah ﷻ or further away?
If the answer is “further away” or “I don’t know,” that’s not an opportunity—that’s a test you’re failing. Not every open door is meant for you to walk through.
2. Set one non-negotiable boundary today.
The Prophets ﷺ had boundaries. Prophet Saleh ﷺ told his people to let the she-camel drink—to make space for what matters, even when it’s inconvenient.
Your boundary might be: No work emails after 8 PM. No scrolling before Fajr. One full day each week with zero hustling. Boundaries aren’t laziness; they’re you remembering that you’re a servant of Allah ﷻ, not a servant of productivity culture.
3. Redefine success using Quranic metrics.
Allah ﷻ never asks in the Quran: “How much did you earn? How many followers did you have? How impressive was your LinkedIn profile?”
He asks:
[Surah Al-Ma’arij, Ayah 19-23]
“Indeed, mankind was created anxious: when evil touches him, impatient, and when good touches him, withholding [of it], except the observers of prayer—those who are constant in their prayer.”
Did you pray? Were you patient? Were you generous? Did you trust Me? These are the metrics that matter.
The End of Thamud’s Story Is Not Yours
Prophet Saleh ﷺ walked away from the ruins. The Holy Quran records his final words to the people who wouldn’t listen:
[Surah Al-A’raf, Ayah 79]
“So he turned away from them and said, ‘O my people, I had certainly conveyed to you the message of my Lord and advised you, but you do not like advisors.'”
Islamic scholars who have studied this passage note the profound grief in his words. He fulfilled his mission, he spoke the truth, he warned them about the path they were on—but they chose the hustle over the message.
You’re not Thamud. Not yet.
You still have time to change course. You can stop measuring your worth by metrics that won’t matter in your grave. You can quit comparing your Chapter 3 to someone else’s Chapter 20. You can trust that Allah’s timeline is better than your five-year plan.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ taught something beautiful that should anchor your entire approach to work and life:
As recorded in Musnad Ahmad (Hadith 1368): “The happiness of the son of Adam is determined by three things: a pious spouse, a good house, and a good vehicle.”
Notice what’s missing from that list? There’s no mention of going viral, hitting six figures, outpacing your peers, or building an empire. Happiness is found in simple blessings lived with gratitude and consciousness of Allah ﷻ.
Your Move
Thursday afternoon. You’re sitting exactly where you were at the beginning of this article. Your phone is still next to you, still showing you everyone else’s highlight reel. That knot in your stomach is still there.
But now you know what it is. That it’s not ambition—it’s the Thamud disease. It’s the lie that whispers you’re falling behind, that you need to carve bigger palaces into bigger mountains, that rest is weakness, that Allah’s timing isn’t good enough.
Here’s your choice:
You can keep hustling until the blast comes—the burnout, the breakdown, the moment when your body or your soul or your relationships finally say “enough” and you have no choice but to stop.
Or you can stop now. You can tie your camel and trust Allah ﷻ. You can work hard without worshipping work. You can build without losing yourself. You can pray Fajr not as something you’ll get to “eventually” but as the first non-negotiable of your day.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, as recorded in authentic collections: “If the Hour comes while one of you has a shoot that he is able to plant, then he should plant it.” (Ahmad, Al-Bukhari in Al-Adab Al-Mufrad)
This hadith teaches you to work until your last breath—but notice what kind of work the Prophet ﷺ described. He didn’t say “if the Hour comes while checking your phone” or “while building your empire.” He said while planting something that will grow after you’re gone, something that serves others, something connected to purpose beyond your own elevation.
Thamud forgot that lesson. They carved monuments to themselves and were erased within three days.
You don’t have to repeat their mistake.
Close the comparison tab. Open your prayer mat. Trust that the One who created you from earth and settled you on it knows exactly what you need and when you need it.
And when that voice whispers, “But everyone else is ahead of me,” remember: Allah ﷻ isn’t comparing you with anyone. He only wants you to improve from who you were yesterday, to work with the unique abilities He gave you, to trust His timing over the timeline society sold you.
The story of Saleh ﷺ and Thamud isn’t ancient history. It’s your warning. Your chance. Your three-day grace period before you hamstring your own she-camel and lose everything that actually matters.
What will you choose?
Disclaimer: This article is provided for general educational and informational purposes only. While every effort has been made to ensure accuracy in presenting Islamic teachings, readers are strongly advised to consult qualified Islamic scholars in their local area for specific religious rulings, detailed interpretations, and matters requiring expert guidance.