The Abode of Faith… the Refuge of Hearts
Babiker Ismail
The place where revelation descended and faith took root…
Its sands embrace the remains of the greatest of those who ever walked the earth, and the kindest of all whose palms ever touched the world…
Whenever worries overwhelm me, I head toward it. It stretches out its arms and holds me with the tenderness of a mother welcoming her returning child…
My eyes are soothed by the sight of those sacred places…
My feet gather dust in its courtyards…
And I extend my hand to touch—without exaggeration or innovation…
My soul rests, becomes content…
And my heart fills with faith and certainty, and I return more capable of enduring life, pushing through its crowds… grateful, thankful, blessed.
That coastal cosmopolitan city has changed—once filled with people from every direction…
Pearls of the sea… shells… and much foam…
I didn’t wander much through its alleys…
Though I longed to revive memories of past years…
A young, handsome taxi driver picked me up from the airport. His tongue carried that beloved Jeddawi accent. It seems his family came long ago and settled there.
He asked: “Is this your first time in Jeddah?”
I said: “When were you born?”
He replied: “In 2002.” I said: “My first visit was six years before you were born… perhaps even before your father met your mother.”
He laughed, blushing…
The greatest change I saw was in the people…
Especially the youth of both genders. The traditional men’s attire has almost vanished, replaced by Western clothing. Professor Abdullah Al-Tayeb once traced the origin of trousers back to the Turks—who are not far from us, but in the very heart of the Ummah…
As for the young women, they still wear the open black abayas… but without face veils. The headscarf has receded a little to reveal the front of their beautiful black hair…
A few leave their curly hair falling on the sides of their faces without a scarf at all…
Their faces covered with layers of colors, creams, and moisturizers, appearing like photoshopped images—lighting, warmth, and sharpness adjusted to taste, mood, and age group…
I saw an elderly woman at the airport eating beneath her niqab, lifting it slightly with her free hand. I remembered Qasim Amin, Safiya Zaghloul, and the day when the veil and shawls were cast aside… History repeats itself again and again, without lessons learned…
As for non-Muslim women in the holy land, they no longer place the light scarf upon their heads. They wear whatever they wish without hesitation or fear…
You no longer hear loud Qur’an recitation from mosques. Only the adhan is broadcast through speakers. It reminded me of when Egyptian actresses living in Garden City complained about loud mosques, and when Sheikh Shaarawi—then Minister of Religious Endowments—restricted loudspeakers in that district. How similar today feels to yesterday…
I also noticed the absence of children and youth in mosques, and how Qur’an memorization circles—once abundant—have nearly disappeared…
Most worshippers now are middle-aged or elderly, with only a handful of youth in some mosques.
I sat aboard an Airbus 320 full of passengers—its tickets cheaper than the national carrier for those without much baggage…
When the engines began warming up…
A warm voice recited the Traveler’s Supplication:
“Glory be to Him who has subjected this to us, for we could never have accomplished it on our own, and surely to our Lord we will return.”
Then the engines roared…
I heard the captain—Ahmed—speak between the rising thunder of the turbines:
“Crew, remain seated for departure… Tawakkalna ‘ala Allah.”
He pushed the throttles forward…
The aircraft surged down the runway, unleashing heat and sparks…
Then we rose high above the folds of clouds…
And I murmured:
“Were they created from nothing, or are they the creators?
Or did they create the heavens and the earth? No—they lack certainty.
Do they possess the treasures of your Lord, or are they in control?
Do they have a ladder to heaven to eavesdrop? Let their listener bring clear proof…”
As I murmured, my eyes fell upon the Tweet of the “Great of Sudan”:
“Thank you Trump… Thank you Bin Salman…”
And praise be to Allah in every state, in this life and the next…
My heart yearned for the days when we said: ‘He who planted us other than God—let him uproot us.’
And ‘America has approached its torment,’ now suffering silently beneath his boot…
And Allah has His ways among His creation…
Place your trust in Allah when your plane lifts you high among the clouds…
For faith remains alive in hearts… and in rituals…
No matter what the wicked and ill-omened desire.
