ShredRite Facebook ad: “Read this if you have old Qurans to dispose of”

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1099487405770285

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Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network and WhatsApp

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Education & Courses

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It started with one damaged Quran. Now I have three IKEA bags full. I could tell you what was inside each one without opening it. My late mother-in-law's Quran was in there. The binding had come apart, and some of the pages were loose. Then there were the old Ramadan calendars, with a doa printed at the bottom of each page. My daughter's Yasin booklets from kenduri and tahlil. Notes from the fiqh courses I'd attended, with coffee marks and my own handwriting squeezed between the lines. A cracked Ayat Kursi frame from our renovation. Wedding cards beginning with Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. Every time I found something else, I put it with the others. I kept telling myself I'd sort out the disposal once I knew where everything could go. Three years passed that way. — One Saturday, my husband pulled the bags out of the storeroom cupboard so he could vacuum behind them. Usually, I only saw the handles when I opened the door. That morning, everything was out in front of us. I looked at the bags and thought about how many times I'd already decided to deal with them. School runs, work, cooking, laundry. There was always something to get through first. By the time the house was quiet, I'd be tired. I'd remember the cupboard, think about looking it up, and tell myself I could do it tomorrow. Then another old calendar or booklet would turn up. Into the bag it went. — I mentioned it to Kak Ros one Thursday after our zikir session. We were waiting for the bus outside the mosque. I asked what she did with old religious books and papers. She knew exactly what I meant. Her mother had kept hers for years. After she passed away, the family had to clear the house. They'd managed to sell or give away the furniture and plates, but they were still working out what to do with the kitab. I kept thinking about that conversation afterwards. I'd imagined everyone else already knew where to send these things. Somehow, I'd missed the explanation. Kak Ros had the same question. — I'd tried searching online. There were discussions about burial, burning and shredding, but I kept getting stuck on what I was actually supposed to do from our flat. Where would I take everything? Who could handle it? What happened to the pages afterwards? I wanted to understand the arrangement before handing over books that had been in the family for so long. The answer eventually came from Kak Siti next door. We were watering our plants one afternoon when she asked how the spring cleaning was going. I mentioned the bags. She told me there were companies in Singapore that collected old Islamic materials from homes and handled the shredding. I'd spent so long trying to work out how to do everything myself that I hadn't looked properly for someone who already did this. That evening, I looked up ShredRite. — They were Muslim-owned. They collected from the doorstep and weighed the materials in front of you, then took them to their facility for micro-shredding. The shredded material was recycled afterwards. I read through the details and checked the collection options. I could send the request through WhatsApp and have the arrangement confirmed there. For the first time, I had something practical to do with the bags. — On collection day, they brought a weighing scale to the door. I watched as my mother-in-law's damaged Quran was picked up with both hands and placed carefully with the other materials. That stayed with me. I'd been carrying around so many questions about these books. Watching someone handle them carefully, explain the process and weigh everything in front of me helped me feel comfortable handing them over. I paid through PayNow and received the receipt. Then the materials were taken away. That evening, I opened the storeroom cupboard. For three years, opening that door had reminded me of a job I still didn't know how to finish. This time, it was done. — The next Thursday, I told Kak Ros. She wanted to know whether they accepted kitab and the small pamphlets we brought home from the mosque. By the time our conversation ended, she'd taken down the details. There's something else I'd share with her now. ShredRite has partnerships with local mosques, including Masjid Abdul Aleem Siddique, Masjid Khalid, Masjid Al-Abdul Razak and Masjid Petempatan Melayu Sembawang. When you select a masjid give-back option, every completed doorstep collection contributes S$10 plus S$1 per kilogram to a partner masjid. ShredRite makes the contribution. It doesn't come as an extra donation added to your bill. You can choose a listed masjid, or use UMMAH10 and let ShredRite direct it to a partner masjid where it's needed most. After all those conversations outside the mosque about what to do with our books, I like knowing the collection can give something back. — The current rate for paper and books is S$5.50 per kg. With UMMAH10, the booking fee is S$10 instead of S$20. A 10 kg paper-and-book collection would be S$65 in total, with S$20 going to a partner masjid. Frames and non-paper items are S$7 per kg. The details are at shred-rite.com. You can check the collection options and send your request through WhatsApp. If you already know which cupboard I'm talking about, have a look. Those bags can finally have somewhere to go.

Where the ad sends people

shred-rite.com

Read this if you have old Qurans to dispose of

Book Quran disposal Singapore: doorstep collection islandwide or $0-fee drop-off at Masjid Abdul Aleem Siddique. Shariah-compliant DIN P-5 micro-shredding.