As Ramadan Draws to a Close, Bay Area Muslims Reflect on the 'Sweet Spot' Between Community and Individuality

Muslims observing Ramadan around the world are almost at the finish line.

We’re in the last seven days — a very special time, which is believed to be when the "night of destiny," or Laylat al-Qadr, occurred.

To mark these meaningful last days, KQED asked Muslims around the Bay Area to reflect on what Ramadan means to them, and how they’re coping with entering a third year of the COVID pandemic.

'It's like a reunion'

Ramadan is synonymous with connecting with the community and loved ones. And for many, it’s a great feeling to be able to gather again this Ramadan, while being mindful of our health.

"Now when we do get together with people, it's like a reunion. And it's really nice," said Sameena Usman, senior government relations coordinator for the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) in San Francisco.

Although Usman shares the enthusiasm of being able to gather again during Ramadan and Eid, she’s still being extra careful. “I don't think that we should take it lightly that a resurgence [of COVID] could potentially happen,” Usman said.

Usman feels that Ramadan during the pandemic provided her the opportunity to reconnect with her spirituality while also being able to be in the community. "Oftentimes, we overschedule ourselves and we end up losing what the main focus of Ramadan is supposed to be," she said.

"I've always been a believer that Ramadan, for me personally, can either be very social or very spiritually fulfilling," echoed Naureen Rizvi, who works in product policy in tech in the East Bay.

For Rizvi, the last couple of years have been a great opportunity to take things slow — to "find that sweet spot for cultivating spiritual space and connecting with the community."

This Ramadan, Rizvi is excited about spending time with her mom, who is visiting from out of town. "I haven't spent Ramadan with her in four years, so I'm super excited to have her," Rizvi said.

She’s also excited about cooking and sharing food with her loved ones and her neighbors. "A lot of bringing the community together ends up being around food," she said. "And I think food ends up becoming a really great bridge for that communication."

Ramadan when you're new to the Bay Area

For Liyana Jalal, head of operations at Little Feminist, Ramadan during a pandemic has brought an unexpected positive: being able to spend more time with her husband, enjoying things like cooking together for iftar at home in Oakland.

"Before the pandemic, he had to travel two hours for work, and he would come home really close to the time when we would break the fast," she said.

Jalal moved to the Bay Area from Malaysia in early 2019, and had struggled initially to find a Muslim community in the Bay Area that she felt she and her husband — a new Muslim convert — would fit into. It was later that year, after connecting with another transplant to the Bay Area, that she was finally able to find a "home away from home." And during Ramadan this year, Liyana and her husband are looking forward to learning more about the history of the Quran and the verses in the holy book.

For Mohammad Faseyh Sikandar, community organizing and engagement manager at CAIR San Francisco, this Ramadan is his first time away from his family on the East Coast. He’s hoping to gather his friends, where everyone can dress in their traditional clothes and break their fast together.

"That's the tradition I'm bringing from the East Coast with me," said Sikandar. "I'm sure people do this already, but I am bringing it to the circles I'm in. So I'm excited for that.”

'Different ways to show my devotion'

For most Muslims, fasting is the ultimate mode of worship, especially during Ramadan. But for some, it’s just not in the cards.

When Farhad Mofidi, a mental health therapist at Kaiser Permanente in Redwood City, learned that he had an autoimmune condition, his diagnosis came with more news: His doctors told him he could no longer fast.

As a Muslim who was just starting to practice the religion, Mofidi says that because fasting had been his "No. 1 way of showing love to God," he initially felt like something had been taken away from him.

"For me, it was devastating. It was heartbreaking," Mofidi said. "But I’ve tried to find different ways to show my devotion."

Like others who find that their religious practices have new challenges or obstacles, Mofidi has come to terms with the fact that there are other ways to show love — other love languages. "You can show love through doing more prayers, reading more Quran, doing more charity work," he noted. "So it’s still a process for me."

'A general message of kindness'

Being able to break the fast at sunset, and knowing where our meals will come from, is a privilege, says CAIR's Usman: "We recognize that we're so blessed that we have the ability to eat."

For Usman, one of the functions of fasting during Ramadan "is to feel closer to recognizing how others feel when they don't have food" — something she says "gives us the ability to empathize with others, and increases our capacity to give and donate."

Usman says that individual observance of Ramadan practice always comes with an awareness of how other people might be living through very different circumstances.

"While we're focusing on our internal spirituality and celebrating the blessings and the beauties of Ramadan, we also can't forget what's happening overseas and the stresses and strains of what people are experiencing," she said. "Whether they be Afghan refugees, whether they [have] family overseas that are in war-torn areas."

Usman and her kids are taking part in the efforts to provide food to dozens of refugee families in the Bay Area through Support Life Foundation. She also recommends supporting the North American Islamic Shelter for the Abused (NISA).

Usman's colleague Sikandar feels equally strongly about drawing people back into the community, sharing that love with everyone, and empowering each other.

"Be compassionate, be loving, be kind. And speak up," he urged. "Empower other people to speak up for themselves and stand behind your fellow Muslims and non-Muslims — whoever is oppressed."

"It's a general message of kindness that I want to see this world resonate with a little more," he said.