There seems to have been a mushrooming of marquees attached to several of the grander houses in the city. I had wondered whether perhaps Ramadan was considered to be an auspicious month and was consequently the pertinent backdrop for marriage-related events. I happened to be passing one of these venues close to my house just before the evening prayer and was taken aback to see the most unlikely of invitees filing through the opening on the side of the tarpaulin.
“Look!” I pointed to my driver. “Why do you think they’re going in there?” I inquired gesticulating in the direction of what seemed to be a sizable proportion of the workers resident in our leafy suburban haven strolling casually through the gate of what seemed to be a palace. They strutted through the neatly rolled up flap with the careless ease and confidence of those who are returning home after a hard day’s work.
“They go there every day,” he remarked lackadaisically. “The food is not that delicious, it’s just so-so.” He swung the car around to another wider avenue and pointed to a veritable fortress decorated with lines of multicolored plastic flags, also frequented by the oddest collection of guests. “They have the best food here,” he gestured. “Always lots and lots of meat and you can eat as much as you like.”
“Have you been there?” I asked astonished. He sheepishly and unconvincingly shook his head.
Every day this scenario is replicated across Saudi Arabia during the holy month of Ramadan. For this is not just a time of fasting, but a season of charity and good will to all men. People are invited indiscriminately into the homes of those more fortunate to break fast or have their morning repast. Indeed, the hosts consider themselves privileged to entertain their neighbors and members of the community in displays of stunningly simple generosity that I doubt exist on this scale anywhere else in the world.
Those who don’t have the physical capacity to accept people on such a personal level sponsor programs within mosques where anyone is welcome to break fast. It really is a moving scene to watch many expatriate workers finally being treated with the deference and respect they deserve. For once you can see them on the other side of things, instead of serving perennially, being served with a hot meal and a little courtesy.
One of the most touching gestures is how many young Saudis position themselves strategically all over the roads and highways distributing dates, water, fruit and other foodstuffs at the time of Maghreb prayer. In spite of the fact that they too are fasting, they wait attentively at traffic lights enthusiastically offering passers-by and travelers this much welcomed respite. Such selfless acts where people actually put others, their needs and their comforts ahead of themselves is really nothing short of remarkable.
Acts of graciousness, selflessness and munificence become the rule rather than the exception during this period. An elderly relative of a friend had arrived in the Kingdom to perform Umrah. Having difficulty walking the long stretch between the mountains of Safa and Marwa, he wearily broke away from the crowd and rested exhaustedly at the side. A little child ran up to him excitedly, squeezed something into his hand and before he could even comprehend what was happening darted off to rejoin the throng of pilgrims. He was amazed to see a SR500 note pressed against his palm.
In Islam the act of giving is seen as a basic tenet of worship. Ramadan is also a time where those Muslims who can afford to are expected to distribute alms to the poor. Other than the dispensing of the annual tax, or zakah, that believers are obliged to pay, they are highly encouraged to voluntarily bequeath what they can in addition to this. However, this donation is of a highly surreptitious nature. It is said that your left hand should not be aware of what your right hand gives, as the act is not intended for self-glorification in the public eye, but purely for the pleasure of Allah. People do this most willingly in secret and are not in the slightest perturbed by parting with their wealth for the sake of God.
Indeed, Islam teaches its practitioners to observe charity at all times. This is not necessarily in the form of a handout, but can be exemplified in something as simple as a smile, a helping hand, a kind word and even through forgiveness.
There is continuous emphasis in the Qur’an about respecting the rights of the poor, the oppressed, the weak, the elderly, the young, the sick, the orphans and the travelers. Once again, the incredible humility and benevolence with which this is executed during Ramadan is inspirational. The largesse and extent to which people give up that which is dear to them is staggering. For Muslims, all wealth belongs to Allah and is seen more of a test than a privilege.
What incessantly amazes me is just how open, mindful and generous we are capable of being. True, for many this month is the focal point of devotion, spirituality and awareness of God. Perhaps such heightened sentiments are not sustainable throughout the year. However, how much more meaningful would it be if it were seen as the pinnacle of these aspects rather than just an annual remembrance of them? If we even dedicated part of our time to espousing these noble aspirations on a more consistent basis, our society would benefit and flourish a great deal from such altruism. Exhibiting empathy and consideration to those around us who are much less fortunate than ourselves is the embodiment of the true spirit of Islam in its most essential form. Although it is most evident during the month of Ramadan, it certainly does not have to be exclusive to it.
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— (Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)
