The main street leading to Masjid An-Nabawi in Madinah was teeming, as everyone paced to get a spot for the sacred Jummah (Friday) prayer.
“Try to get there three hours earlier,” a fellow worshipper had advised. They weren’t kidding. Though my husband Christian and I had left the hotel earlier than my parents and sister, we still didn’t make it into the mosque’s grounds.
We each managed to claim a space in the vicinity beyond the masjid’s gates—in the shade, mercifully. It was almost midday, and the temperature was exceeding 86 degrees, though this is mild compared to the raging heat of a Saudi summer.
I laid out my prayer mat and placed my bag next to me, to reserve space for my mum and sister. They joined soon after, but I found out later that my dad had been forced to sit in the sun, exposed for the duration of the khutbah (sermon) and salah (prayer). It was also Ramadan, so we were all fasting.
In general, the heat alongside the lack of water was testing. Fortunately, Ramadan fell in March this year, while in recent years the summers here have reached well over 100 degrees. I hope to return one day for the Hajj pilgrimage—a rite of passage and obligatory act for all Muslims at least once in their lives—but the rising temperatures do concern me deeply.
“The long-term outlook is becoming more severe,” says Islamic Relief Worldwide’s head of global advocacy Shahin Ashraf MBE. “We’re probably going to see it start to become unsustainable in about two generations’ time, which means that for the first time in the history of our faith, we will have to carefully consider who goes to Hajj.”
A recent study has warned that by 2050, the heat stress levels in Mecca will surpass the threshold considered safe for human endurance. Previous studies have also suggested that in a warmer world, the risk of heat stroke could increase by up to 10 times. However, we’re already starting to see the unprecedented effects of this, with Hajj 2024 recording over 1,300 extreme heat-related pilgrim deaths.
“I do worry for my own children and grandchildren, and whether they’ll be able to perform Hajj in future years,” says Ashraf. “Pilgrimage is at the center of everything, regardless of whether you’re spiritual or religious. It’s where you go to find belonging and to feel connection, whether that’s at Glastonbury or Hajj. It speaks to people in different ways.”
