Never Underestimate a Child’s Mind: Lessons from a School Science Fair

 

Asalamu alikum warahmatullahi wabarkatahu !

Today, by the will of Allah, I had the opportunity to attend a science exhibition at a private school—not as an expert, but as a guardian and an observer. What I witnessed reminded me of a profound Islamic principle: knowledge is an amanah (trust), and nurturing it is an act of worship.

As I entered the campus, a young student approached me confidently with a microphone, asking about the models displayed. Her excitement and confidence were heart-warming. Across the exhibition, students stood proudly beside their work, eager to explain what they had created. Their joy reflected the fitrah—the natural curiosity Allah has placed within every child.

While interacting with the students, I asked simple conceptual questions to understand their learning. At one stall, I asked a child about earthquakes, a topic clearly mentioned in the Class 8 NCERT textbook. Before the child could respond, a teacher intervened, saying the question was too difficult for such young students. While concern may have been genuine, Islam teaches us never to belittle capacity. Allah says that He created the human being and taught him what he did not know.

I gently explained the concept to the students, and their attentive faces proved that they were capable of understanding when guided with patience. This happened at several stalls. Each time students struggled, a little explanation lit up their minds. The children were not weak in intellect; they were simply in need of encouragement.

What was more concerning was an attitude of silent restraint. Some teachers appeared uneasy with questioning, as if inquiry might challenge authority or dignity. Islam, however, does not fear questions. The Qur’an repeatedly invites humanity to reflect, think, and observe. Suppressing questions suppresses growth.

Even more disheartening was a remark by a teacher that despite conducting such exhibitions for years, no model had ever reached a higher competitive level, nor shown true innovation. Such statements unknowingly demote students. The Prophet never discouraged effort; instead, he uplifted people by believing in them before they believed in themselves.

In Islam, an educator is a murabbi—one who nurtures, not limits. When adults set low expectations, children internalize them. But when faith is placed in young minds, they rise beyond imagination. These children can do wonders, if only they are told they can.

Science exhibitions should not become mere tools for institutional branding. They should be spaces of tafakkur (deep reflection), curiosity, and mentorship. Learning is not about flawless models, but about igniting the spark of inquiry. Protecting dignity should never come at the cost of silencing curiosity.

History itself bears witness to this truth. Hans Lippershey did not begin with a grand laboratory. He was merely playing with pieces of glass, observing and experimenting. That simple curiosity, when allowed to grow, eventually led to the invention of the first telescope—an instrument that opened the heavens to human understanding.

If curiosity had been dismissed that day as “childish” or “beyond capacity,” humanity might have lost a window to the skies.

May we remember that nurturing curiosity is a responsibility before Allah. When we honor questions, we honor the Creator who gifted the mind. And when we believe in children, we invest in a future that sees farther—both on Earth and in the heavens.