By Apple Sim @ Nur Aaila Ayesha Sim

Firstly, we intend this reflection purely for the sake of Allahﷻ, His Messenger Muhammad صلى الله عليه وسلم, and our beloved teachers, InshaAllah.

We pray that Allah ﷻ continues to invite us to His Holy Lands and allows us to visit and be reunited with His Habibullah صلى الله عليه وسلم year after year. This was my third time returning to Madinah and performing Umrah, but it felt very different from the first two visits.

The first time, I arrived wide-eyed and unsure, still trying to understand what I was stepping into. The second time, I came with a little more knowledge and confidence, yet I still carried the feeling of being a guest. This time, however, something settled within me. Not comfort exactly, but familiarity — the quiet kind that comes from knowing your heart has been here before.

I am a Madinian.

When we arrived at the Prophet’s Mosque, it felt as though the city paused. As the green dome came into view, I felt the same rush I experienced the first time, but deeper and more grounded. It is remarkable how a place can make you feel both incredibly small and completely held at the same time. I stood there reflecting on how I am a Muslim by choice and by mercy, not by heritage. And yet, here I was again, returning like someone coming home.

Inside the mosque, the peace was almost overwhelming. I have prayed in many places, but nothing compares to the calm found there. It sinks into your bones.

As I prayed, I kept thinking about how easy it is for me to be there. How Allahﷻ , in His mercy, kept bringing me back to His Holy Lands despite my shortcomings and ingratitude. How simple my Islam is compared to what came before. I can walk freely through my Prophet’s city, whisper my prayers without fear, and stand in comfort where others once feared for their lives.

When we revisited the historical sites — Badr and Uhud — something struck me more deeply than on previous trips. Perhaps it is because I know more now. Perhaps it is because I have grown into the faith rather than merely learning about it. At Badr, the land feels honest. The landscape may have changed, but it does not hide what happened. The stillness there reminds you of how fragile everything was in those early days.

On the 17th of Ramadan, 2 AH, in the second year after the migration from Makkah to Madinah, our Prophet Muhammadصلى الله عليه وسلمcried out to Allah on the plains of Badr:

Ya Hayyul Ya Qayyum يا حي يا قيوم “O Allah! Fulfill what You have promised me. O Allah! Bring about what You have promised me. O Allah! If You destroy this group of adherents to Islam, You will not be worshipped upon this earth.”

The Muslims numbered only 313 men, with just two horses and seventy camels, facing an army of approximately 1,300 men, one hundred horses, six hundred suits of armor, and many camels from the mushrikun. They were clearly outnumbered.

I tried to imagine the fear they must have felt and how they pushed through it. I cannot pretend that I would have had their courage. This was also the year fasting in Ramadan was made obligatory. The Muslims were fasting during the battle itself. Yet today, living in the luxury of air-conditioned homes, comfortable workplaces, convenient transportation, and relative peace, many of us struggle even to commit to fasting in Ramadan, let alone on the sunnah days outside of it. How ungrateful we can be, when on top of all this, we fail to truly thank our Lord for His countless provisions.

Al-Fatihah for the martyrs of Badr. May Allah be pleased with them, and may we be granted even a fraction of their faith, courage, and commitment to Allah ﷻ .

From the Muhajirun (Emigrants):

1. Umayr ibn Abi Waqqas

2. Safwan ibn Wahb

3. Dhu al-Shimalayn ibn `Abdi `Amr

4. Mihja ibn Salih

5. `Aaqil ibn al-Bukayr

6. `Ubayda ibn al-Harith

From the Ansar (Helpers):

7. Sa`d ibn Khaythama

8. Mubashir ibn `Abd al-Mundhir

9. Haritha ibn Suraqa

10. Rafi’ ibn al-Mu’alla

11. `Umayr ibn al-Humam

12. Yazid ibn al-Harith bin Fushum

13. Mu’awwidh ibn al-Harith

14. `Awf ibn al-Harith

At Uhud, the emotions were even stronger. The mountain has a presence that cannot be ignored. The air feels heavier, carrying memories of sacrifice and loss — memories of the pain our Prophet Muhammad صلى الله عليه وسلم endured when his people humiliated him further after the brutal loss of his beloved uncle, Hamzah. Standing there, I thought about Hamzah and the companions who never walked away from that battlefield.

I reflected on the Prophet’s pain, not only as a leader, but as a human being who lost those he loved most. And I thought about how those moments — those wounds — shaped the path that eventually reached someone like me, centuries later, in a completely different world.

Even the best of Muslims had to struggle to achieve success. Our Prophet Muhammadصلى الله عليه وسلم himself endured hardship and injury. This teaches us that success is not reached without trials. Allah reminds us in Surah Al-Baqarah, verse 286: ُف اَلُي َكلِّ ِإاَّل َنفْ… ِإ ُو ْسَعَها

ٱ ًسا هَّللُ “Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear…”

This verse is a mercy and a reminder that every struggle we face is measured, known, and permitted by Allah for our growth.

What stayed with me most is this:

I only get to practice Islam in comfort because our ancestors practiced it in hardship. I inherited a faith wrapped in peace because they carried it through fear, hunger, and loss. My prayers are soft because theirs were forged in struggle. My Islam is gentle because theirs was built on sacrifice. Today, I am a Muslim convert because they were the first to believe.

This realization made my third visit feel like the first time I truly understood what I was returning to. Not just a holy place, not just rituals, but a legacy I am responsible for honoring in my own small way.

As I left Madinah, I no longer felt like a guest. I felt like someone who had finally acknowledged the weight of what was handed down to me — someone who understands that faith is not just something you hold, but something you carry forward.

And I pray, InshaAllah, that Allah continues to bring us back again and again, each visit softening our hearts, each return drawing us closer to those who sacrificed so that we could stand with ease where the giants of Islam once stood with struggle.