Mona Siddiqui - 05/08/2026

Available for over a year

Good morning. August is the month of exam results and education is in the news again. Each year, young people find themselves at the centre of debates about standards, academic versus vocational. Reform, opportunity and social mobility. And governments struggle with how we can equip young people for the economy of tomorrow and still give them a balanced education. But I wonder if we're asking one question often enough – what kind of human beings do we hope they’ll become? A couple of days ago my son phoned in the morning from his regular coffee shop. I could hear the chatter and tinkling in the background. "The coffee here is so good," he said. I replied, "Is this your little moment of joy before you start the day, settle down to work?" He said “joy - that’s a nice way of looking at it.” Afterwards I thought to myself: Why did I call it a little moment of joy? Why do we think that joy belongs only in the margins of life - before work begins or after success has finally been achieved? And I think that our education system reflects that assumption. We make so much effort to prepare children for exams, employment and success that it’s hardly surprising that many end up feeling their value is something they must constantly earn. The pressure and anxiety has made many incapable of seeing or letting any joy into their life – as if joy has now become a luxury. In a world where cynicism and pessimism is everywhere, even encouraged, devastating news a daily feature, to find joy for yourself, and to try to inspire it in others is an act of courage, even resistance. As a Belgian surrealist artist Rene Magritte pointed out it’s a waste when life is made more frightening precisely because that’s easy to do. For him, finding beauty was harder and because of that more important – as he said: ‘it’s much easier to terrorise than to charm.’ Perhaps this is what faith tries to remind us, that to ponder on the world means finding love and enchantment amidst our struggles and sorrows. The Qur'an invites us to look, to reflect and to marvel at the changing seasons, the stars, the diversity of humanity. The words `do they not see’ pull us constantly to what can be observed, imagined and made possible. Whether it’s in a morning coffee or a quiet walk, perhaps joy accompanies us all the time – we are simply too busy to notice.