With Ramadan in full swing, I am learning how to balance faith in my final year. This time, I feel more actively involved in my religion. Last year, I don’t think I could have said that.
For most of my adolescence I felt lost. When I reached university, that confusion intensified. Being surrounded by newfound freedom and a constant pressure to define myself, I realised I had no clear sense of who I was. I was Muslim by name, but not always by practice. My faith felt fragile, praying sometimes felt like a chore rather than a connection, and I believed, but without depth. I identified as religious, but without conviction, and that scared me.
Between lectures, deadlines and 90-minute commutes, prayers were squeezed into gaps or postponed altogether. Walking into the campus prayer room made me anxious. I worried I didn’t know enough that someone would see through me, that I wasn’t “religious enough.” So, when I travelled to Mecca in October for Umrah, I went with one clear intention, to rebuild my faith. Umrah is an Islamic pilgrimage that takes place in Saudi Arabia and can be performed at any time of year.
It involves entering the state Ihram, a state of spiritual and physical purity, followed by circling the Kaaba, then walking between the hills of Safa and Marwah each seven times and ending with the cutting of hair as a sign of renewal. Then I saw the Kaaba. The Kaaba is a black, cube-shaped structure at the centre of Masjid al-Haram in Mecca. Muslims around the world face it during daily prayers, and it represents unity in worship and devotion to Allah. Seeing it in person is entirely different from seeing it in photographs.
I was moved to tears instantly. It looked majestic, almost impossibly still despite the thousands of people circling it. In 2023 alone, more than 26 million pilgrims performed Umrah, according to the Ministry of Hajj and Umrah. Yet in that moment, it felt deeply personal. There is an Arabic word, Iman, meaning faith rooted in the heart. Standing there, watching people circle the Kaaba in quiet devotion, I felt my Iman steadily return to me, like something reinstalling itself after being temporarily lost. I fell in love with Islam all over again.
“My Iman is stronger than it has ever been”
Now, I see everything differently. Balancing fasting with deadlines feels less like a burden and more like discipline. Praying between study sessions feels purposeful rather than inconvenient.
I may have entered university unsure of who I was becoming. I will leave knowing that…
And this Ramadan, that feels like the greatest achievement of all.
