Blog Archive


We seriously need to catch on some sleep now so it is fitting that we have a four-hour coach journey to Abha. This wasn't the first time my semi-functional iPhone alarm let me down. Nor was it the first time that we slept at 3 in the morning! I am going to tell you the story of our trip to Medina; so let me set the scene for you. It was 7:50 am, we hadn’t packed, showered or even had breakfast and Steve was shouting his head off, telling us that we were going to miss our flight to Medina. The thought of missing the chance to visit the Prophet’s mosque was the driving power behind our swift exit from the hotel. It was funny when Steve pointed out that he had left the room shouting at Ahmed for being too slow only to find him in the same exact place ten minutes later, still trying to fasten his belt.
When we eventually made it to Medina, we were welcomed with a pleasant breeze. The temperature was 20oC but the expression on our Saudi tour guide’s face looked like someone had just shoved him into a freezer. It is compulsory to enter the mosque with the upmost humbleness and humility. The lack of preparation however meant that I was frantically looking through my luggage for my thobe.
The visit to the mosque in Medina is just as significant as visiting the Haram in Makkah. This is the city chosen by God for his messenger to flee to when he was driven out of Makkah by the Quraish and this is the city where God revealed the commandments to the Prophet. When I think of it like that, it enables me to understand just how important Medina is to Muslims. It is the city where Muslims were among some of the first to understand and apply the obligatory duties. 1400 hundreds later and I am still practicing those obligatory duties.
It is advised to give some charity and be in constant supplication before entering the mosque. I was travelling with great enthusiasm and excitement and as we got closer this yearning increased. I was overjoyed when the green dome came into sight. Underneath the green dome is where the Prophet is buried. The mosque was more beautiful than I had imagined it. The minarets and the umbrella shaped shelters stood out the most for me. Once inside, the excitement had reached its climax, I offered my prayer and tried very hard to focus my thoughts on the exalted personage of the Holy prophet. His high position means that some pilgrims unintentionally perform wrong practices during the visit. It was a different feeling to the Haram mosque. Time just seemed to slow down for me. The thoughts of how God had granted me this blessed opportunity filled me with emotions. It is a feeling you can’t explain. Just as I had within the Haram, I felt a surge of energy as I conversed with my Lord asking him to forgive me. I collected myself and proceeded towards the grave. I walked towards the gold wire meshed enclosures. Tears flowed uncontrollably from my eyes as I sent salutations upon the final messenger. My role model. My beloved. Prophet Muhammed, peace be up on him.


Going to the Haram is an invitation from God, which is why I am so honoured that I was given the chance to go. The anticipation was finally over and I was going to perform Umrah. But it didn't come easy. Being told that we had to wear the ihram (I'll explain later) 10 minutes before departure completely threw me off guard. It was a nightmare because I was expecting someone to show me how to put on the white garments. The daunting feeling of the bottom cloth falling off during the pilgrimage was something that I was dreading. I have heard stories of how friends have been left exposed because they didn't tighten the cloth properly.
Prior to performing Umrah, we visited the Museum of Antiquities, which had an exhibition of things that had previously been in the two Harams. The exhibition displayed everything from the first copies of the holy Quran to the cloth which covered the Kaaba (the house of God) and only served to add to my excitement.
The construction that had engulfed the Haram did take me by surprise but nothing could prepare me for the shock of glimpsing the clock tower parallel to the Kaaba. Apart from the obvious benefit of being on time with every prayer, I struggled to understand why this huge clock tower was ever built to begin with. I wasn't put off in any way as I got off the coach and saw both the clock tower watching down on the Kaaba and the construction, but I still think that it doesn't belong there. I felt that the transformation around the Haram was somehow affecting the spirituality of the Holy site.
Nevertheless, I could not have had a better experience during my time there. Once inside, I felt a sense of unity and equality similarly to how Malcom X felt during his pilgrimage. You can try to imagine what umrah will feel like over and over again, but nothing compares to the moment when you find yourself amongst some of the most diverse people from all walks of life all praising God together.
Describing how I felt throughout is most difficult. For the first time I wasn't thinking about anything or anyone except praising god. I felt so pure and focused. Most of all, I felt happy. Being happy is the objective of life. If we look at our lives, we work not only to become financial stable, but we work because that stability brings us happiness. If we keep questioning why we do these things then we will find that the questions end with the word ‘happy’. The outcome of everything we do is for the pursuit of happiness. Any we don't need to question why we want to be happy. That’s obvious…


Being a non-Muslim meant that I could not enter Makkah alongside the others in the team who performed Umrah. Although disappointing, I have to respect the religion, and accept that this a gift offered only to those who follow Islam. It is important to recognise that Islam is not just a religion, but a way of life. Muslims live and breathe Islam; it guides them through life, and determines their everyday behaviour. Every step they take, they are representing their beliefs and values. These are my thoughts, as a non-Muslim, therefore I am aware that I could be wrong. But what I have seen in Saudi has demonstrated this before my eyes. I have seen a religious dedication that is to be admired. Although pilgrimage to Makkah is forbidden to me, it must be realised that pilgrimages are universal. Across countries and religions we all make our own pilgrimages, large or small, in search of morals or spiritual blessings. It is a human journey.

Some of the Arabia Offscreen team were lucky enough to have the opportunity to perform Umrah in Makkah. For a few of us it was the first time we had set foot on the Holy Land; it was indeed both a spiritual and emotional journey for all of us. These are a few photos I managed to capture during the Makkah visit.


And so begins another tale from the Arabian Nights - this is the story that Scheherazade told Shahryar about a man called Nasef; a wealthy man who had grown up in Makkah in the Hejaz region. At the time, Makkah was one of the largest trading centres in the whole region; every year thousands of pilgrims came to perform Hajj and Umrah from lands far and wide.
Nasef was the kind of man who loved to impose his power. He had always been eager to build his own kingdom in a quiet and uninhabited place but Makkah had never given him the chance. He had never given up on the idea of finding this perfect place, so one day, Nasef decided to leave Makkah and search for a new place to settle down in. He packed up his belongings, took all his money and cattle with him in a huge caravan, and headed for the western coast.
After a long and arduous journey through the desert he finally found the ideal location he had always dreamed of, where he could build his city from scratch. He immediately ordered his servants to start building him the biggest and most beautiful palace. His servants built him a stunning three-storey house overlooking the sea, surrounded by plants and palm trees. Nasef had a spacious room on the third floor, and made sure that there was a big kitchen right beside it.
Nasef loved two things in life: women and food. This is why he made sure the kitchen was built next to his suite! He carelessly whiled away his days and nights sleeping with copious amounts of women and eating at least five meals a day. Having his room right beside the kitchen also meant that he could enjoy the smell of food throughout the day. Nasef quickly became fatter and fatter and started to grow a large paunch.
Day after day, people came to settle down in Nasef’s city and live beside his palace, but his always remained the largest. As the city grew, so did Nasef’s paunch. Nasef’s paunch grew so much that he started to find it difficult to move in his own house and to ride his beloved horse around the city. Nasef had exchanged twenty camels (with a pilgrim from the Maghreb) for his Arabian horse.
He thought about using his bed to move between the three floors so he could get to his horse, but this turned out to be not such a great idea! He fell from the bed several times and each time this happened he would fire one of this servants.
This caused him great annoyance until one day, one of his servants pointed out a very helpful solution to his problem; this being that he should use his horse instead of the bed to go up to his room. They would simply need to re-design the stairs so that the horse could go up them. To further ensure his master’s safety and make it impossible for him to fall, the servant suggested tying a long stick to the horse’s back with a rope which he could hold onto. Nasef was so impressed with his servant’s idea that he made him his butler and immediately implemented his idea.
As the city established by Nasef continued to grow, people began to gossip; the story of Nasef being taken to his room with the help of his horse began to spread.
The horse got used to waiting patiently by Nasef’s bed. One night, Nasef fell asleep very late, plagued by nightmares because of all the food he had eaten. He tossed and turned all night until he fell onto the back of his horse who didn’t seem to feel a thing. The horse gave a start and began to run very fast with his master still asleep on his back. He ran in and out of all the rooms until he reached the wooden balcony and abruptly stopped.
Nasef began to wake up and felt something moving, but thinking he was still lying on his bed, he rolled over. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case and he rolled down from the high balcony to his death.
And so ends Scheherazade’s tale, with the death of Nasef and the promise of a new story based more on fantasy than reality.
Nasef died but the dream he had once had of having his own city had been fulfilled. He left behind him a large city with lots of children had by his many women.
Many hundreds of years later, Nasef’s palace is still there in the Balad in Jeddah and is one of the most important tourist attractions in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The Balad full of people from Yemen, Somalia and Pakistan and is the poorest area in the whole of Jeddah with the lowest standards of living, secutiry and hygiene. Many people end up staying there without having a proper work permit, after having completed Hajj and Umrah.
I wonder how an amazing area like the Balad with its amazing architecture can be neglected in this way! As I walked through the alleys and narrow streets of the Balad, I felt like I was in Cairo.
Whilst in Saudi, I had the honor of meeting Ahmad Angawi, a young man wise beyond his years and the son of Sami Angawi, one of the most important architects in Saudi Arabia. Ever since returning from America with a First Class degree in Product Design, Ahmed has been interested in the Balad. He is constantly searching for new ways to save its heritage without disturbing the people who live there and their traditions; he believes that a city is made by its people and their customs.
I wish Ahmad and everyone like him, who is seeking to revive our cultural heritage and maintain our authentic identity, the best of luck. We have a heritage and an identity we should be proud of!
In the words of Ahmad: “A man without history is a man who doesn't know who he is.”



