My U̶m̶r̶a̶h̶ Trip

Exactly 31 nights ago, on October 6th, I stood outside Terminal 2 at Moi International Airport, hugging my father goodbye as I waited to board my Jambojet flight. “Forgive me, Baba,” I murmured, feeling a lump in my throat. “Hmm, I have to think about it,” he laughed. “Listen, once you get there, make sure you find a way to fulfill what we asked you to do,” he reminded me of the important family mission I was tasked with once I arrived in Saudi Arabia. I nodded silently. “Let me check in.”

“It’s too early,” my brother said. 

“I know, but if I stay out here, I’ll start crying. I just want to go in.” My sister laughed as my patriarchs shook their heads. They nodded and each gave me one last hug.

As I walked inside, my brother followed, trying to help me load my luggage into the baskets. They stood there until I disappeared through the doors at the far end. Once I finally sat down, I called my mother to let her know I had checked in. She made dua for me and wished me a safe journey. That’s when the lump in my throat finally broke. I let the tears flow freely. My reality felt surreal. I was going for Umrah. Me? My good Lord. How incredible that this seemingly distant dream was finally coming true!

This very moment was a manifestation of a miracle, an answered dua, a subsequent heartbreak, and one of the most important lessons I had to learn in my life.

***

The first time I seriously began making dua for Umrah and Hajj was in 2023, after taking the ‘Raise Your Dua’ course with Shaykh Muhammad Al Shariff. Before that, I would merely daydream and make dua for a visit to the Holy Lands in passing. But after the course, this specific dua became one of my six dream duas, the ones I would repeat during sujood, when it rained, when the masjid was empty at my workplace, and in the quiet moments when I conversed with my Lord. From then on, this dream became an obsession; I posted so much about it that my friends would often reply with duas for me to make it to those blessed lands.

Towards the end of 2024, on December 23rd, I posted a story on my Instagram, a reel of Makkah, with the caption: “Dear 2025, surprise me with an Umrah trip.” I reposted it with my own caption: “Dear LORD of 2025,” but like many similar posts, I didn’t put much thought into it.

In early January, a wonderful sister, herein referred to as ‘Chairlady’ or ‘Chair,’ posted about an Umrah trip for women, and my heart immediately melted. I jokingly said, “Nibebeeeee hata kwa hendbeg,” (insert crying emoji). She laughed and replied, “Listen to me: make dua. How it happens? Leave it to Allah,” reminding me that for Allah, nothing is impossible. I quickly forgot about the conversation, though I continued my dua as usual.

About five months later, the Chairlady posted something along the lines of, “There’s a sister I talked to about Umrah some time ago, and she said she couldn’t afford the trip. If that sister is you, please DM me; I have a sponsor for you.” I must have reread that story a million times, trying to comprehend what she was saying. My heart raced, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. With shaky hands, I texted her, asking if she was referring to me or someone else. If it was someone else, I requested her to consider me for the next sponsorship opportunity.

I vividly remember sitting with my sisters on the floor during lunch, completely distracted. Finally, I received a response: “Luby! It’s you!!! I had forgotten who I had that conversation with, but it’s you!” I stood up quickly, leaving my sisters puzzled by my sudden movement. “What’s wrong?” they asked. I stayed quiet, my hands shaking intensely, struggling to find my voice. “Check whether your passport is valid and let me know right away.”

I walked into my mum’s room, half-smiling and half-teary. “Ma, where’s my passport?” I asked. “Why do you need it?” she replied. “I need to check something real quick.” She pointed to the drawer where the passport was stored. I quickly opened it, and lo and behold, it was valid! “What is it?” my mum asked again. “I…I…” The words just wouldn’t come out. “I got…a free…Umrah ticket.” Tears started to flow. “Allahu akbar! Mabrukk!” I hugged my parents tightly. “Why are you crying, though? You should be happy,” my dad said, typical of his old-fashioned responses. “It’s tears of joy,” I muttered between gasps for breath.

I then walked into the kitchen where my sisters were still eating, trying to gather myself. “I got a free Umrah ticket,” I announced. In an instant, their surprise transformed into shared joy, and we all began to cry. “Allahu akbar. Alhamdulillah.” Our gratitude and awe overwhelmed us, leaving us with little more to say. My mum quickly called my other sister and brother; with each new congratulation, my emotions deepened, and I began to sob even harder.

I never thought something this extraordinary could happen to me. It wasn’t that I doubted Allah’s ability; I just never expected to be so blessed myself. I cried and cried, amazed at how a casual conversation had turned into a realized dream. How could a stranger, who knew nothing about me, become the means of this miracle? Subhanallah, the subtle ways Allah arranges our affairs left me astounded. Grateful and still trembling with excitement, I shared with the lovely sister, “How am I supposed to live the next five months now?! I feel like I won’t be able to do anything but wait excitedly.” We shared a laugh, excited for the incredible trip that lay ahead of us.

The very first thing I did, as I awaited official confirmation of the trip, was buy a small A6 notebook for my duas. My first entry was a seven-page dua specifically for the Umrah, praying for it to actually happen, for energy and health, for ideal weather, for good companionship on the journey, and for answered prayers; you name it. Slowly but surely, I wrote down other duas over the months. I spoke to Allah more often, requesting Him to forgive me and make me worthy of this trip. I was very conscious not to sin or make any mistakes that would make me unworthy of it all. I poured my entire heart into it, painting a vivid picture of the kind of experience I wished for. That became my mantra for the next few months.

Next, I bought comfortable shoes and increased my daily step target. I wanted to be not just ready, but perfectly ready for this journey of a lifetime. Every morning, I would go to the tallest building at our workplace and walk up and down the steep staircase. If I didn’t have enough time for that morning routine, I’d try to make it up throughout the day. I wanted to get accustomed to the long walks around the Haram and Medina, and to be fit for it. I was determined; I wasn’t about to take this lifetime trip lightly.

Next, I started by watching umrah tutorials, learning about the do’s and don’ts, the best duas to recite, where to do laundry, and which apps would be useful. I downloaded the Nusuk and HHR train apps, even though it felt ridiculously early to do so. And, as we all know how Instagram picks up on our conversations, my feed and Explore page quickly filled with umrah-related reels and posts.

Also, in preparation for my trip to Madina, I began watching the Umar ibn Khattab series, as recommended by our Chair. This helped me better understand the locations we would be touring. I have heard so much about the tranquility and peace of Madina; Aaahhh! I truly couldn’t wait!

Then, I made a list of all the items I would need for my journey and began ticking them off one by one. At that time, everything revolved around umrah. All my conversations with my sisters and loved ones focused on the things I needed to get or do for the trip. It got to the point where I would say, “Aaah, look,” and my sisters would laugh and say, “For umrah, right?”

During this period, one frequent dua I made was for abundance, so I could comfortably prepare for and enjoy the trip. Subhanallah, Allah, the Most Generous, delivverreeeed! Miracles were unfolding right before my eyes. I was getting gigs left and right, and money was coming from unexpected places. Allah was facilitating every need, want, and wish. I was awed and deeply touched by Allah’s kindness towards me. It was really happening!

I remember about a month before the trip, I opened my suitcase and started packing small items one at a time. My younger sister, who had a journey coming up, laughed and said, “My trip is one week away, and I haven’t packed yet. Yours is a month away, and you’re already at it. Truly, there are two kinds of people in this world.” It’s no secret that I’m the ultimate planner, but trust me when I say I was still arranging my bag right up until the very last day. I wanted everything to be perfect. Typical, I know.

Despite my overwhelming excitement and extensive preparations over the months, I still hadn’t received official confirmation for the trip, which made me feel a bit nervous about whether it would go through. However, once it was confirmed, I couldn’t hide my joy any longer. Maybe I overdid it, but honestly, no one could comprehend how excited I was. This was about a month before the journey, and so I began texting my friends, loved ones, and everyone who had once carried my list of duas, eagerly telling them, “It’s now my turn to make dua for you in the blessed lands.”

I also informed my co-workers and asked for their forgiveness as I continued collecting duas. I ended up gathering over 50 pages of everyone’s duas. I know, I know lol, it seems like I was doing the most 😀 But guys! I was not about to be stingy with my prayers!

That night, as I nervously boarded my first plane to Nairobi, I whispered my last-minute duas, asking for this journey to be a positive turning point in my life. The one-hour flight passed quickly, and we soon landed at our destination.

As I was removing my backpack from the overhead compartment, my lovely sister, our Chairlady, called me. “Luby, did you see the texts?” I told her I had just landed and hadn’t read them yet. She then said something that left me speechless: “The agents said the system has been down, and they were unable to acquire the visas for us. Let me send an Uber to pick you up and bring you to my home.” Honestly, I don’t remember what I answered; my mind just went blank. I didn’t know what to think, say, or feel. My thoughts raced during the ride through the night.

I kept reminding myself of the words our Chairlady had said during the months of preparation: “Such spiritual trips always come with tests. No matter how much experience you have visiting the Holy lands, you will always be tested in one way or another. Be mentally prepared for that and be very patient with whatever comes.” I thought to myself, “Aha, this is what she was talking about. The tests have started. But we must stay optimistic. We must be patient.”

Our group chat was lighting up with messages expressing confusion, shock, and reminders to exercise patience and make dua. Our trip was scheduled to start at 2 AM that same night, and we all kept hoping for a miracle to happen at the last minute.

When I arrived, our Chairlady welcomed me with a long hug and a nervous laugh. The night felt long as we tried to make sense of what was happening, embracing the uncertainty and remaining patient as Allah’s plan unravelled.

The next morning, we gathered with our fellow sisters in our team. We poured our hearts out amid the chaos, reassuring each other that this was merely a phase. Allah is testing us, but He is planning something better for us. We constantly reminded one another, “Qadar Allahu wa ma sha’a fa’al” (Allah has decreed, and whatever He wills, He does).

I remember our Chair stating, “I wholeheartedly believe that there is a reason behind this delay, and Allah will reveal it to us eventually.” I added, “That’s true, but sometimes Allah tests us without providing closure. If that closure doesn’t come, that’s a test too, whether we will trust Him regardless.” For the next few days, Allah tested me on my own words.

Amidst apologies from the agents, confusion, and unclear next steps, we had no option but to wait. This became the most dreadful wait of my life.

My family and close friends continuously checked on me, sending encouraging words and beautiful reminders of Allah’s plan and the khayr in all delays. During this time, I stayed with my two lovely cousin sisters, who went above and beyond to accommodate me, comfort me, and cheer me up.

All the while, my heart was crumbling. I kept desperately speaking to Allah, saying, “Ya Allah, there must be a reason why You brought me to Nairobi. I didn’t leave home and arrive here for no reason. I know there must be a purpose. Please reveal it to me.”

For many years, I had wanted the opportunity to go to Nairobi for one significant mission in my life. When my trip brought me to a halt there, I thought maybe this was my chance; perhaps Allah wanted me to fulfill my mission. But that door was also tightly closed. It was painful trying to understand, “Why am I here then?!”, to accept and fully trust His plan. As much as I tried to smile, inside, my heart was falling apart.

At that time, despite the delay, we still held onto hope that we would be able to recover our money, obtain our visas, and travel immediately to salvage the remaining bookings we still had. So, the waiting continued. I kept myself busy by meeting old friends, spending time with my sister in law and beautiful nieces, and admiring the stunning purple Jacaranda trees outside the house; anything to keep my mind occupied.

I also had the chance to meet a lovely revert sister whom I had been in contact with for two years but had never met in person. It was such an emotional meeting for both of us. We talked, we cried (yes, she’s a crybaby, just like me), we hugged like we’d known each other forever. My cousin later told me, “Maybe your stay in Nairobi was for this reason: this beautiful meetup.” And you know what? Maybe, maybe she’s the sole reason I stayed in Nairobi. I was destined to meet this beautiful, beautiful soul, Allahumma bareek! Allah knows best, you know?

By the fifth day, as I sat at the dinner table with my two cousins, our Chair sent a voice note. As I listened, my heart raced. We had reached a dead end with the visas and had to cancel the trip while they sought legal ways to resolve the matter. I couldn’t pinpoint when the tears began to fall, but I remember the dreadful feeling of my heart sinking. What followed were the longest nights of my life. I used to think I understood what heartbreak was, but this? This was on another level. It was undoubtedly the most painful heartbreak I had ever experienced. Even as my loving cousins comforted me with Allah’s words and I recognized the truth in what they said, my heart felt like it was crumbling like a wet cookie; I was devastated.

Of course, the shaytan thrives in moments of brokenness. I began to descend into a dark rabbit hole of overthinking. Did I do something to cause Allah to take this away from me? The umrah I had waited and prayed for years for, the important family mission in Saudi Arabia, the significant personal mission in Nairobi, it felt like all the doors had not just been closed but slammed shut right in my face.

I didn’t know how to process the heavy feeling, the sadness, the grief, and the shock. How was I supposed to return to normal life after this?

I travelled back home two days later with a heavy heart, but I was glad to embrace my parents once again. However, one more major plan for the end of October also fell apart painfully. Honestly, it was a humbling moment.

The biggest lesson I learned from this experience is that, once again, I am NOT in control. Despite all the preparation I put into this trip, ultimately, it is Allah’s plan that prevails. And that plan? You have to trust it blindly, even when you can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, even when it doesn’t make sense, and even when you don’t understand why things had to happen the way they did.

This situation reminds me of the quote: “The universe will give you the same lesson in different forms until you master it.”

As someone who continually struggles with letting fate unfold as it comes, this was a stark reminder for me.

Above all, I kept reminding myself of my sister, our Chair, who faced an even greater challenge in losing all her bookings and tickets. She was placed in a situation that no leader or person ever wishes to be in. Whenever I thought about my own grief, I had to remind myself of hers. Yet despite everything, I found her to be resilient, patient, and firm, with unwavering faith. Alhamdulillah ala kul hal. May Allah reward her abundantly for her patience and compensate her for every heartbreak, every tear, every pain and worry and every penny she lost, ameen. Please take a moment to make dua for her, and for the other sisters in our group who also underwent this heartbreaking experience. May we all be compensated with what is better in all ways, ameen.

One of my dear friends (God bless her beautiful soul), who helped me extensively in preparing for my journey, reminded me of the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and his companions set out for Makkah to perform Umrah, but they were turned away when they were so close to the sacred land and instructed to return the following year. Despite this setback, Allah reassured them, describing that moment in the Qur’an as “a clear victory.”

This experience felt like my own Hudaybiyyah moment. Although I didn’t arrive in Makkah for Umrah, I underwent a different kind of pilgrimage in my heart. It’s a comforting perspective to hold.

It’s been 31 nights, and my suitcase still sits across my bed, mostly unpacked. My Nusuk app is still on. Umrah content still fills my Instagram explore page. Some may say it is denial. Some may say it is hope. I don’t really know where to place it; maybe somewhere in between the two. I really don’t know. In shaa Allah kheyr. In shaa Allah, it shall be well.

***

P.S. Regardless of everything that has happened, I will always be grateful to the stranger, my favourite stranger, who sponsored this trip for me. I also want to thank our Chair, whom Allah chose to be the reason I received this opportunity. I am deeply appreciative of my cousins, my sister in law, my closest friends, my loved ones, and my entire family, who went above and beyond to support me during this challenging time. May Allah bless you all in ways that will truly astonish everyone on this earth and in the heavens. Ameen.

P.S. 2: As I continued to navigate through this storm, my elder sister sent me a beautiful and soothing series on the Names of Allah by Ustadh Hisham Abu Yusuf. It has been a profound and timely reminder for me. I realize that to find peace of mind amidst life’s challenges, we first need to deeply comprehend who Allah truly is. I share this with you in the hope that it comforts you just as it has been comforting to me: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSFZjjKC3qPYGLinbi1XurRSC3izxodtC