My Journey to Makkah and Madinah: A Story of Longing, Faith, and Discrimination

Visiting Makkah and Madinah has always been one of my biggest desires—a pilgrimage that goes beyond any worldly ambition. For Muslims, this sacred journey represents the culmination of devotion, unity, and equality before our Creator. However, as a woman who uses a power wheelchair, my path to fulfilling this spiritual journey was not as seamless as I had hoped. Despite the deep meaning that these holy sites hold, I faced barriers and discrimination based on my disability.

Upon my arrival, the air was thick with spirituality, and the collective devotion of millions created an atmosphere unlike any other. I felt an overwhelming connection to those around me, transcending language, culture, and social status. The sight of the Kaaba filled my heart with awe, and I longed to experience every moment as fully as possible.

Yet, as I navigated the Rukan of Umrah, which is meant to embrace all of humanity—regardless of gender, race, or physical ability—I found that the reality was different. I was not permitted to visit the ground floor or get closer to the Rowdha of the Prophet Muhammad (SAW). It was disheartening to realize that in a place designed to symbolize unity and equality, there were limits placed on my experience simply because I used a wheelchair.

While the staff was courteous and did their best to guide me to areas on the first floor where I could perform my rituals, the experience was bittersweet. I understand that there are people unfamiliar with wheelchair use who may inadvertently cause harm to others. But as someone who is adept at using my power wheelchair, I knew I could navigate the space responsibly and safely. My only plea is for authorities to consider allowing those of us with power wheelchairs to access the ground floor, where we can participate fully and equally.

It’s worth noting that the number of people who use power wheelchairs is relatively small, which would make such accommodations feasible without significant disruption. Yet, this simple allowance would make a monumental difference to people like me, who may only have one chance in a lifetime to touch the Kaaba or pray closer to the Prophet’s resting place.

Despite the barriers, this journey is a reminder of how deeply we need to cultivate understanding and inclusivity in every aspect of life, even in the holiest places. To truly embody the teachings of Islam, we must learn to respect and tolerate differences and ensure that every individual, regardless of ability, is welcomed as an equal.

It was painful to feel the pointed stares and whispers from fellow worshippers, as if my presence in a wheelchair was an anomaly that didn't belong in the sacred space. But if there's one thing that this journey has taught me, it is that our relationship with Allah transcends human judgment and the limitations imposed on us by society.

For Muslims, the pilgrimage to Makkah and Madinah represents the ultimate devotion, joy, and fulfillment. It is an aspiration known by the world—even by those outside our faith. Yet, the discriminatory experiences I faced were a stark reminder that there is still work to be done to embody the true spirit of this pilgrimage.

I hope that by sharing my story, I can spark conversations that lead to change. May our journeys, regardless of our physical circumstances, be met with kindness and equity, so that all of us can fulfill our greatest spiritual desires with the dignity and respect we deserve.