As we enter the month of Muharrem, I look back, holding tight to the journey I made last month. A huge and spiritual journey that is the 5^th pillar of Islam. A journey that traces the footsteps of Prophet Ibrahim (Abraham) as.

 

I think my earliest memories of seeing images of the kab’ah were in local taxi offices. I knew the bold, black cubed image that would be neatly framed, was a symbol that held a sense of sacredness. I also knew there was a holy land called Mecca and that was where my knowledge ended. Never in a thousand years would I ever think that this would be a place that I would yearn and weep for, and,by the grace and generosity of Allah, have the privilege to visit.

 

Each visit to Mecca as an umrah has been profoundly special. But Hajj…

 

Hajj seemed like a dream. A journey too sacred to behold. Perhaps that was due to a limitation in my asking and believing that Allah would call me. An istikara (prayer of guidance) is always a good place to start coupled with a firm intention and a bit of grit working through the Nusuk app. Alhumdulilah the signs came and the packages were released and in Ramadhan 2026, by the grace of Allah, my son and  I with a lot of help from a close friend working through the system, managed to secure a package.

 

With a heart full of  gratitude and nerves, I left for hajj on May 16^th 2026. I’d attended the webinars, read books, watched vlogs, studied some fiqu (legal rulinga) but one thing I realised as a convert, was that prime parting advice and excitement only a parent could give, that also had a heart attached to the sacred lands, was absent.

 

A day before set off, a message came up on my WhatsApp from dear sister/Aunty Batool. A warming message that was so genuinely happy that I was about to embark on my first Hajj. Voice notes from Aunty Batool are like no other, they overflow with joy and humour, all packed into a witty Irish accent that seems to smile at you from afar. Aunty Batool told me she has performed 15 Hajj which included leading groups! I felt an instant sense of confidence as I listened to the advice, much of which I took on board and benefited from with ease. Playing them more than once, Alhumdulilah.

It made me reflect on a converts Hajj. It's not that different in the sense that one stands and fulfils the obligatory rituals. We stand, we plea, and we pray as an ummah that we are forgiven. But we do experience a void! Perhaps we don’t get the send-off that others receive or those parting words of advice. We don’t receive the excitable phone calls from relatives asking how we are and sending us their dua lists. However, I reflected a lot on the first and only Hajj of the Prophet Muhammed (saw) and the early companions, much of whom were indeed converts. I felt honoured to experience perhaps even a little of what they had experienced. God is Great!

Whilst walking or rather shuffling through crowds, I would often look around at all the nations, there as one ummah. An immense feeling of gratitude took over me. That Allah had chosen me to be part of this year’s Hajj delegation. He had given me this opportunity and had chosen Islam for me! Not my classmate, not my cousin, neighbour, sibling, but ME! I had been brought to that place  I would see in frames, hanging on the walls of taxi ranks. Now amid the pixels of hujjaj, I now occupied that same space.

During the prayer times in Mecca, I would often find spots to sit where I could see the kabba. People naturally offer sweets, prayer mats and kind nods at each other that take the place of an unknown language. It surprised me how many people haven't met someone who has embraced Islam. I would raise my index finger and say the word “Shahadah” and pointed to myself to explain that I was a convert (everyone on Hajj wants to know what country you are from). I reflected on this, and how "Convert Care" is a norm to us, but for others, it’s something they've never heard of, and it brings tears to their eyes. They live in Muslim lands in  inter-generational neighbourhoods where families have known each other for decades. One such encounter was when I met a Palestinian sister on the rooftop of the harem in Mecca. She had memorised surah Baqarah and was testing her memorisation on her own with a phone. We began to talk with our hands and the very, very little Arabic I know, and told her that many had come into Islam by witnessing the strength, courage and faith of the Palestinians. She burst into tears, to think that people in western lands, were entering Islam. 

 

In that moment, I realised being involved in dawah was something that we can take for granted, the work of a da’i is something really special: calling people to their true purpose and supporting them on that journey. Subhan’Allah. It took a trip to Hajj for that to really sink in. May our Rabb (Lord) and our blessed Prophet (saw) be pleased with us for calling people with the message he (saw) gave us. 

 

As I approached Arafat, I scanned the space. It looked very different to what I had seen on Islam Channel all the years I had followed Hajj. I was surprised to see many trees. I rejoiced, one of my duas before Hajj was asking Allah to give me shade beneath a tree on Arafat, and there it stood. I placed my prayer mat down , took my water bottle out along with my dua list and began supplicating. It was on this blessed land the the ayah was revealed, “Today I have perfected your religion for you, and have completed My favour upon you, and have approved Islam as a religion for you.” (Surah al-Maidah:3). Remembering this ayah, as a convert, hits hard. It’s a coming home. I raised my hands and thanked Allah for guiding me and prayed for other converts and organisations that are working tirelessly, up and down the UK and Ireland, to support those who have been gifted Islam.

 

I stepped into the following days, moving from Arafat to Muzdalifah , the sleeping on the floor between two mountains was something that surprised me as being such a profound and spiritual experience, perhaps as we were only blanketed by the sky, different adhans echoed from the different travel groups as we prayed fajr and then to the stoning at the Jamaraat. One nation of Muslims, shuffling under the sun, along rocky roads, through tunnels, across bridges. Giving each other water, shading strangers with umbrellas and spraying cool water on anyone who happened to be shuffling and striving next to you whilst praising Allah, “LabaykAllah humma la bayk”. Here I am Allah…

 

Hajj ended. The striving continues for His sake wherever you are. As I touched down at Heathrow I again thanked Allah for returning me safely, and that I was now here to carry out His work.

 

I was blessed to be welcomed back by my excited children and friends, a meal with lots of cake, and more cake, so many flowers that I ran out of vases and reverted to a utensils jar. A thought struck me, imagine returning to a home where no meal was prepared, no flowers, no cake, no congratulations. It did make me realise that it’s important we receive converts, who perhaps don’t have a Muslim family or a close friendship group to welcome them back from Hajj, with the same happiness and joy. It can be quite a shock to the system especially  after being with around 2 million Muslims to then return to an empty home.

 

Sending a convert to Hajj with simple but much needed gifts is a show of care and concern. A water bottle, Ihram, sandals, throat sweets etc. Prepare a meal for when they arrive home so they can literally crash out and  not worry. Drop a message to say you’re thinking of them. Make a fuss over them and remind them of the blessings of such a journey. Of course this same advice can be taken for any Muslim that is alone, with no family.

 

I pray anyone reading this makes an intention to embark on the sacred journey of hajj, inshaAllah and to remember me in your prayers.

 

Nasirah Alam

Founder, New Muslim Circle, Peterborough