There is a distinct possibility that already, on this the fourth day of Ramadan, I already goofed. I formed an intention, then acted in a contrary fashion. An introduction to the concept of intentions is necessary.
The concept of intentions is very important in Islam. In Islam, intentions hold a significant place in the practice of religion and all other aspects of life. Muslims are encouraged to be mindful of their intentions in all their actions and to strive towards performing good deeds with pure intentions.
The concept of intention (niyyah in Arabic) is the starting point of anything you do. It is mentioned throughout the Quran, where Allah (SWT) emphasizes the importance of having pure, sincere and well thought out intentions in one’s actions. Intentions play a central role in determining the moral value and reward of an action. A good deed performed with pure and sincere intention is far more valuable in the sight of Allah than a deed done with a selfish or insincere intention. A selfish and insincere intention can negate a good deed. Similarly, a wrong action committed with an evil intention is considered more sinful than an action that done unintentionally or with a good intention. The concept of intentions is mentioned throughout the Quran. For example: Surah Al-Baqarah, verse 235: “And do not take an oath by Allah except in truth and do not mix the truth with falsehood, and do not conceal the truth while you know.” This speaks of Allah’s knowledge of our innermost thoughts. Allah(SWT) knows the truth, even we we try to hide it.
It is important to follow one’s intentions – an intention without an act is meaningless. Believers are encouraged to form intentions to guide them through Ramadan. One of my intentions was to avoid absorption in world politics, concentrating instead on the Quran, a thesis, and other reliable trusted sources. Yesterday I found myself reading Al Jazeera, by mistake actually. I hope I will be forgiven as it was an article that must be read in these times.
This from the March 5, 2025 blog.
“My Safari scrolling skills went haywire – found myself in Al Jazeera reading a description of Ramadan in Gaza. That is going to be the topic of tomorrow’s blog. It is definitely relevant to Ramadan. The March 1, 2025 article was written by Esraa Abo Qamar is a Palestinian writer based in Gaza. She is an English literature student at the Islamic University of Gaza.
The title brings hope and sense of awe for Esra Abu Qamar and her people. : Ramadan in Gaza: Ruins and Unshakable Faith;We Have lost loved ones, hones, livelihoods, mosques, but our faith remains as strong as ever.
The writing, so strong, so eloquent transports the reader to Gaza.
“Ramadan has come to devastated Gaza. While the rest of the world embarks with a festive mood on a month of fasting and prayer, we do so with grief and sorrow. The echoes of war still ring loud. There is no certainty that this ceasefire will last. People are anxious about what happens next. They fear the war may come back. The memory and trauma of what we have witnessed and experienced over the past year hang heavy in our minds. Last year was not the first time for us to observe Ramadan during a war. In 2014, I was only nine years old, but I remember very well how our Ramadan nights were filled with air strikes and destruction and how we had to rush out of our home in the dark, fleeing the bombing in our neighbourhood.”
If she was nine in 2024, she is barely twenty today.
She brings us up to date, speaking of last year’s Ramadan.
“But Ramadan last year was different. It was unimaginably worse. Hunger was everywhere. We fasted the entire day, only to break our fast with a can of hummus or beans shared between six people. With no electricity, we would chew the tasteless canned food in the dark. We would barely see each other’s faces across the table. We were away from most of our extended family. My grandmother, aunts and cousins who I used to spend Ramadan with were all scattered in different places, some displaced in tents and others stuck in the north. The month of togetherness became a month of separation and isolation. Ramadan was stripped of its joyous spirit. We longed to hear the adhan (call to prayer) at Maghrib before breaking our fast or at Fajr before starting it. But those sounds never came. Every mosque was destroyed. There were people who wanted to do the adhan, but they were afraid – afraid that the sound of their voices would bring air strikes, that it would make them targets. Instead of breaking our fast to the familiar sound of the muezzin on the loudspeakers of the nearby mosque, we broke it to the terrifying echoes of missiles and gunfire.”
The horror of it all – it is painful to read. It goes on.
“Before the war, I used to go with my family to the mosque after iftar to pray and see our loved ones. Afterwards, we would stroll through the streets of Gaza, enjoying the lively Ramadan atmosphere before heading home to have freshly made qatayef. But last year, there was nowhere we could go to pray tarawih amid the genocide. Even the Great Omari Mosque – one of Gaza’s most beautiful and historic mosques, where my father and brothers used to spend the final 10 nights of Ramadan, listening to the Quran recited in the most beautiful voices – was gone, bombed into ruins, shattered beyond recognition. The place that once echoed with prayers and peace was turned into dust and rubble.”
She now begins to speak of this year’s Ramadan. Thankfully during a ceasefire.
“This year’s Ramadan begins during a ceasefire. There are no air strikes shaking the earth as we break our fast. No explosions reverberating in the silence of Fajr. No fear of decorating our homes, of hanging colourful lights that might make us a target. Amid the pain and devastation, life – which had been on pause for so long – is trying to come back to Gaza’s streets. Shops and markets that have not been destroyed have reopened, and street vendors have come back. Even the big supermarket in Nuseirat, Hyper Mall, has opened its doors once again. Before Ramadan, my father took me and my sister there. We could barely contain our excitement as we stepped into the brightly lit mall. For a moment, it felt like we had gone back in time. The shelves were stocked again, filled with everything we had longed for – different types of chocolates, biscuits and chips. There were Ramadan decorations, lanterns of all shapes and sizes, boxes of dates, colourful dried fruits and Qamar al-Din. But this abundance is deceptive. Much of what fills the shelves comes on commercial trucks, which make up a large portion of the trucks allowed into Gaza at the expense of humanitarian aid. At the same time, these products have become unaffordable to most people who have lost their livelihoods and homes. So what will most families break their fast with this year? It will be a bit more than canned beans: A simple meal of rice, molokhia or whatever vegetables they can afford. For the first iftar, my family will have musakhan, a Palestinian dish that is made from chicken, saj bread and lots of onion. We know we are among the lucky ones. The vast majority of people in Gaza cannot afford the fresh chicken that has reappeared in markets at double the pre-war price. Bit a rich, traditional Iftar is not the only thing that will be missing from Ramadan tables in Gaza.
She leads to the conclusion, breaking the hearts of her compassionate readers as she ends.
“More than 48,000 people have been killed during the war. Entire families have been wiped from the civil registry and will not observe Ramadan this year. At so many iftar tables, there will be an empty seat: a father whose voice calling his children to the table will never be heard again, a son whose impatience to break his fast will never be seen again or a mother whose skilled hands will never prepare delicious food again. I too have lost people I love. My aunt’s husband who used to invite us for iftar each year was brutally killed. My friends Shaima, Lina and Roaa who I used to meet at the mosque after the tarawih prayer were all martyred. The festive spirit is gone, but the core of Ramadan is here. This month is a chance to step away from distractions and concerns of ordinary life and reconnect with our faith. It is a time of forgiveness. It is a time to seek closeness to God and spiritual resilience. Our mosques may have been destroyed, but our faith has not been broken. We will still be doing tarawih in half-destroyed homes and tents, whispering all our wishes in dua’a and seeking comfort in reciting the Quran, knowing that Allah will reward us for all the suffering we have endured.”
I was aware, did realize why the people in Gaza were so resilient, why so many are drawn to the Islamic Faith watching the horrors they endure so bravely. They know that Allah will reward them for all the suffering they have endured. But to read Esra Abu Qamar’s words made it tangible, made it part of me.
I am so grateful for my Ramadan 2025. I am enduring no suffering. I must strive, following the Straight Path, the Way of Ease so that I may hear these words one day: “God will say to the righteous,”O tranquil soul Return to your Lord, well pleased ‘with Him’and well pleasing ‘to Him. So join My servants and Enter My Paradise.” Quran Al-Fajr 27-30
Now I believe that I was guided to break my intention, in order to happen upon Al Jazeera. That enabled me to spread Esra Abu Qamar’s words reaching those not familiar with Al Jazeera. My readers in the cities and countries all over the world can have an opportunity to feel both her pain, and her joy.
Photographs are of the sunrise found in Penang, Malaysia. This morning I saw the sun itself, not just the color imbued clouds. A huge, almost totally uninhabited building mars the view. Penang is overbuilt beyond belief. Greed is alive and well – not sure who is making money, or hoping to make money – but this city suffers as a result. Traffic at a standstill as developers are not required to build roads and infrastructure to service the monoliths. If a Israeli bomb hit the building there would not be a loss of life – nor tradition, nor anyone’s home hosting the memorabilia of generations. Only unbegotten gain would lie in the rubble.
