🧭 Let Me Be Absolutely Clear. I Have to Say This.

A heart-to-heart about truth, trust, and why I will never stop raising funds for Gaza

I want to speak to you plainly, carefully, and from my head and heart.

Not because I owe anyone an explanation—but because truth matters, trust matters, and in Islam, lying on people is not a small thing. It is a grave sin. And this week, after it was reported that an online influencer received over $2 million from a fundraiser for Gaza, people lost it. As they should have. I was appalled. But then they began lying on me. This is a semi-annual occurrence in my life - as you likely know.

Some are trolls. Some are bots. Some are Zionists. But some are Muslims. Some are Democrats. Most are real people.

So let me say this clearly, without hedging, without spin, without qualifiers:

I do not receive a percentage of any donations.
Not online.
Not at my live events.
Not anywhere.
Not 30%, not 20%, not 15%, not 1%.
Not a little. Not a lot. Nothing.

I am a full-time employee of Human Concern International (HCI)—one of the oldest Islamic charities in North America. It is my highest honor to work there. My supervisor is a wonderful Palestinian brother from Gaza. Our field director is a brilliant sister from Gaza. I host trainings, I represent the organization at events and conferences, I strategize with projects on the ground, I fundraise for those projects, and I support our talented staff any way I can. I love them like family.

I am also a full-time writer. I spend 4–8 hours a day, 5–7 days a week, writing. I write because words move people—and people move resources, and resources save lives. I also write because I’m in chronic pain, have had two debilitating surgeries this past year, and cannot travel the way I used to.

I have over 600,000 subscribers to my writing - one of the largest audiences on Substack. I am a New York Times bestselling author. I’ve spoken in 49 states and in countries around the world—for Meta, Google, Spotify, at Harvard, Princeton, Yale, and at over 200 colleges and universities. I used to speak full time for over two years in Atlanta’s jails and prisons. I’ve been an activist since I was 16 years old. I’m 46 now.

I am the son of a factory worker from Versailles, Kentucky.
I like to work.
I like justice.
I like fairness.
And I fear God.

This year marks my 25th year fighting for Palestine. And I want to say something clearly and without apology: I am proud of the work we have done in Gaza together.

Not hypothetically. Not rhetorically. Tangibly. Measurably. With names, faces, and lives.

Right now, this community—not a vague institution, not an abstraction—is sponsoring over 1,400 orphans in Gaza. That is one of the highest numbers of orphan sponsorships of any community in the world. These children are receiving food, clothing, shelter, shoes, toys, education, and care because of you. Because of us.

Together, this community has donated and enabled the direct spending of over $5 million on food, water, and essential aid in Gaza. Not theoretical pledges. Not press releases. Meals eaten. Water drunk. Families fed.

We helped build a mobile health clinic. We staffed it with doctors. We fully funded it. And when bombs fell all around it, we moved it and kept it operating. I am telling you plainly: we saved so many lives there. I will carry those stories with me for the rest of my life.

I want to be clear - I am not talking about HCI as a whole. HCI has done far more. Those are things that my followers have funded and made happen. And much more. I have hundreds of stories. It’s literally all I’ve done for two and a half years.

I don’t say this to boast. I say it because truth is an amanah, and because I will not let liars erase the good that has been done—especially when that good was done for people who have already lost almost everything.

I have also worked directly with nearly 20 Palestinians in Gaza whose money was stolen by people online—people who raised funds in their names and kept it. I met with one family this very morning whose entire campaign was hijacked. So when I recently saw a viral post exposing someone who took over $2 million for themselves from funds raised for Gaza and other oppressed nations, I was shocked. I have never heard of anything like that in my life.

At HCI, we have policies that make that impossible. Our organization has a board. That board and the senior leaders consult Islamic scholars, teachers, and experts to set ethical policies. Every ethical charity should.

But instead of anger alone, what I’ve felt most is sadness—because some people took those real abuses and turned them into lies about me.

So let me say this slowly and sincerely:

In all of my years raising money for victims of police brutality, I never once received a single penny. Never.

Attorneys offered to pay me all the time. I refused.
Families begged to pay me. I refused.
The family of Ahmaud Arbery offered to pay me. I refused.
Ahmaud’s dear mother, Wanda, once sent me a check in the mail—and I tore it up.

Of the 500+ families impacted by injustice that I’ve supported, not one time did I receive a penny. I have never run a GoFundMe for myself. Every year people offer. People even start them on my behalf—and I have them shut down.

Why?

Because this work is amanah—a sacred trust.

The Prophet ﷺ said: “Each of you is a shepherd, and each of you is responsible for his flock.”

I take that seriously. With fear. With care. With accountability.

Since becoming a Muslim, something in me has changed deeply. Islam has made truth heavier, lies uglier, and accountability unavoidable. In our faith, lying about someone—especially in matters of trust and charity—is something Allah will ask about on the Day of Judgment.

And I want to say something unexpected but sincere:

I actually feel sorry for the people spreading these lies about me.

May Allah forgive you, my brother.
May Allah forgive you, my sister.

Maybe you heard someone who lied, who heard someone who lied, who heard someone who lied—and it felt real. It isn’t. Not a lot. Not a little. Not at all.

Allah commands us to speak truth. And the Prophet ﷺ warned us: “Beware of lying, for lying leads to wickedness, and wickedness leads to the Fire.”

I forgive you.

And yes—Islam teaches that when someone lies about you, there is reward in Jannah. I believe that. But I’d rather you just speak the truth. I don’t want a reward built on falsehood. I want a community built on integrity.

Now let me be unmistakably clear about one more thing:

I am not stopping. Ever.

I have friends in Gaza whose families are counting on me. I have promised them I will do what I am doing. I have over 600 orphaned children in Gaza right now who are waiting for sponsorships—real children, with names and faces and stories you will know when you sponsor them.

My friends and loved ones in Gaza do not get to pause.
So forgive me—but I will not pause either.

Not now.
Not as Ramadan approaches.
Not while the genocide continues.
Not while children are hungry and parents are desperate.
Not while lies circulate more easily than aid.

The Prophet ﷺ was lied about. His character was attacked. And Allah Himself defended his integrity. I don’t compare myself to him—but I follow his example: keep going, keep serving, keep trusting Allah, and do not let falsehood set the agenda.

If you’ve done wrong, repent.
If you’ve shared something untrue, correct it.
If you’re unsure, verify.

That is our way.

To those who know me—you already know.
To those who are just meeting me—watch what I do over time.

I will keep working.
I will keep telling the truth.
I will keep raising funds for Gaza.
I will keep standing with the oppressed.

And I will do it for Allah alone.

Love and appreciate each of you.
Your friend and brother,
Shaun