In the heart of the South, where sweet tea and Sunday church gatherings are a way of life, Ramadan beats to its own rhythm. Despit the often-intense heat, the Muslim community comes together in large numbers to break its fast, filling masjids with warmth, devotion, and the sounds of shared prayer. Ramadan is observed across the world, but even within the U.S., the experience varies depending on where you live.
For Texans and Houstonians in particular, the abundance of halal restaurants, Muslim-owned catering services, and masjids offering daily iftars and taraweeh prayer is a privilege. No matter what you’re craving, there’s always a place to find it. It’s one of the things I love most about living here, and why I always say I’ll never move. Of course, fasting in 109-degree heat with 15-hour days is no easy feat, but it builds a deep appreciation for sacrifice and commitment. Each day completed feels like a victory for the soul and a step closer to Allah.
Every family has its own Ramadan traditions, and ours revolve around the masjid. We love arriving just before Maghrib, breaking our fast in the company of others, and staying for taraweeh. Whenever there’s a qiyam program that lasts until dawn, chances are we’ll be there. You see, worshiping, praying, and eating in community has always been important to me. There is nothing like standing shoulder to shoulder with people who have all gathered for the same purpose – to worship Allah.
Of course, food also looms large in our traditions. One of our family favorites is pitted dates stuffed with cream cheese and served with cashews and fresh fruit. It’s simple, but we look forward to it every year. In the past, we made it a point to visit different masjids around the city, exploring new cultures and cuisines while teaching my children about the diversity within our own communities. These days, the kids are older and just want to be with their friends, even if that means going to the same masjid every night.
One thing I’ve learned about Muslims is that our physical location doesn’t change our cultural practices. No matter where we go, we bring our traditions with us. A black American Muslim home. whether in Brooklyn or Chicago, might have barbecue chicken, mac and cheese, candied yams, and greens for iftar. A Pakistani home will always have some variation of curry, roti, chai, and biryani. Our meals are just another way we stay connected to our roots.
As a working Muslim, Ramadan comes with its own set of challenges. Regardless of where you are, colleagues will notice when you stop joining lunch runs. And, of course, there’s the universal question Muslims get every year – “Not even water?” Many people can’t grasp the idea of going without food and drink for so long, especially in the heat. I’ve learned to give a heads up before Ramadan starts, answering their questions early, because I definitely won’t be in the mood to explain when I’m running on an empty stomach.
One of my favorite things, though, is when non-Muslim friends or coworkers show genuine curiosity and want to participate in Ramadan. Lately it’s become trendy for people to try fasting, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. However, when someone sincerely wants to experience what we do, it means a lot to me. Some have even asked to join me for iftar or attend Friday jummah prayer at the masjid. That kind of openness and respect is always welcomed.
Ramadan in the South is special because of the diversity I’ve been blessed to grow up around; it feels like having the whole world in one city. I’ve met people from nearly every background, heard countless languages, and tasted global cuisines without even needing a passport. And the beautiful part? We’re all connected by Islam. The Prophet (peace be upon him) said in his last sermon, “Muslims constitute one brotherhood.” While not everyone gets to experience that sense of unity, I know how blessed I am to have it.
I also empathized with her. After all, at the time all three of my children were in school, and I worried how their grades would fare as they struggled through hunger, thirst, the occasional headache, and with simply being tired. In other words, we may all have some small sense of dread as we enter into a month that – let’s face it – shifts much of our schedule and can leave us feeling unmoored from our normal day-to-day lives as we navigate extra-early mornings, busy afternoons preparing food, and evenings spent eating and then rushing to the mosque for taraweeh evening prayers.
Like many converts, when I first learned what Ramadan is and how it’s practiced, I was astounded. I couldn’t believe anyone would voluntarily deny themselves food and water all day for an entire month! After all, I didn’t grow up seeing any of my family, friends, or community members fasting in any form or fashion. Even those of us who grew up in or were familiar with the Catholic faith have seen the 40-day Lenten season watered down from a fast similar to that of Muslims’ to most of the religion’s followers only abstaining from one type of food or activity during Lent. What’s more, others only forgo meat on Fridays. In other words, I’m not sure many born Muslims can truly understand how much of a shift it is for a convert to fast in Ramadan when most of us had no concept or example of it growing up.
The Night of Decree is described in the Qur’an as a night “better than a thousand months” (97:3), surpassing the average human lifespan. One night is greater in reward, blessings, accepted prayers, and forgiveness than an entire lifetime. Thus, only a prideful or foolish person would neglect such a night. It is the repentant heart, feeling the burden of sins, that recognizes this night as a beacon of hope. This night’s unparalleled virtues outshine all other times honored by Allah, like the Day of Arafah among the days, the month of Ramadan among the months of the year, and Jumu’ah (Thursday sunset to Friday sunset) among the days of the week — all marking times of profound spiritual opportunity. Yet, Laylat al-Qadr exceeds all of these.
Ubadah ibn al-Samit reported that,” The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, came out to inform people about the Night of Decree in Ramadan, but two Muslim men were insulting each other. The Prophet said, ‘Verily, I have come out to tell you about the Night of Decree, but two men were insulting each other. Thus, its knowledge was taken away and perhaps it is better for you. Look for it during the seventh, ninth, or fifth night of the last ten nights’” (Bukhari). Of great importance in this hadith is the phrase translated as, “perhaps it is better for you.” In other words, it is better for the believers to strive to find the Night of Qadr than to know when it is, strive on one night, and retire afterwards.
Therefore, let us be vigilant during Ramadan and the Night of Decree. Let us not allow the periods of waning energy to coincide with these blessed opportunities. Do not be among those who start off Ramadan really strong and burn out after a few days. Do not be like those who work hard in the beginning and lazy at the end, for it is similar to the one who plants seeds, waters them, cultivates them, and then when the time to harvest the fruits of their efforts arrives, he walks away and abandons them. This is why the early generations of Muslims exemplified perseverance in their religious dedication — when the days of Ramadan were decreasing, their good works and acts of worship only increased.
Make a conscious decision to do more good acts, in whatever capacity, whether it be globally, locally, or personally, but just do more good. Pick up debris from the road. Carry someone’s load for them. Give someone struggling in any way a little helping hand. Even a smile is an act of good, if intended to spread positivity and please our Lord. Refrain from responding to someone or something negative with vitriol. If your goal is set on something more long-term, with a higher bar set, such as beginning tadabbur ul-Qur’an (study for a deep understanding of the meaning of Qur’an), even your search for suitable classes/teachers begins the good deed counter. A small daily habit established now can become a giant in the long run. Every journey, every huge feat, every life-changing win starts from a small initial move.
Truly a month of miracles, Ramadan comes and beautifully fills our voids that no one else is even aware of, sometimes not even known to ourselves. Our souls know something is off before we can identify and name it. It comes and masterfully, through various channels, whether it be taraweeh prayer or simply through patiently enduring pangs of hunger, clears our vision so we can focus more sharply on the meaningfulness and purpose of our lives. It has been rebooting the personal system of each observant Muslim for over 14 centuries and will do so to the end of time.
One of the first names I studied is 
Another name of Allah that I ponder is Al-Jabbar. It means The Compeller. Yaqeen Institute breaks the meaning down further into two parts: 1) the One who is able to compel and subdue all His servants, with all of creation submitting to Him; and 2) the One who mends the broken and enriches the poor. As the world currently watches a worsening genocide, it brings me comfort to know that Allah will enact control over the oppressors and bring to justice those who have injured, harmed or murdered the innocent. The Prophet (s) said, “The arrogant and the tyrants will be gathered on the Day of Resurrection as tiny particles. The people will trample upon them due to their disgrace before Allah Almighty.”
I rely on this name when I am feeling lost due to all the mistakes I have made in my life. In those moments I start to doubt myself and my abilities to do good and receive good. It’s a comfort to remember that as long as I am able to turn to Allah to ask for help or ask Allah for forgiveness, He SWT will always respond with mercy.
