Answering the Call for Help: Ramadan with the Muslims of Baringo County
- Fahdi Alew
- May 9
- 4 min read
This January, I arrived in Kenya to begin my co-op, excited for the opportunity to immerse myself in public health work in Baringo County while also reconnecting with my family in Nairobi. Although I had visited Kenya before, this time felt different—longer, deeper, more purposeful. I knew the months ahead would be filled with learning and challenges, but I didn’t realize just how much this experience would also reshape my understanding of faith, service, and community, especially during Ramadan.
Growing up Muslim, Ramadan has always been a time of spiritual reflection, gratitude, and giving back. But this year, experiencing Ramadan in Kenya alongside my family has made it even more meaningful. Being here has given me a deeper appreciation for the blessings of community, faith, and resilience—especially as I witness firsthand the realities faced by communities in more rural areas, where food insecurity and limited resources are daily challenges. This Ramadan, I've come to see even more clearly how faith and generosity are woven into the everyday lives of the people around me.
While doing my work in Chemolingot, I found out that there was a mosque in town where the local Muslim community gathers for daily prayers. Curious and eager to connect more deeply with the community, I decided to visit. The Chemolingot Mosque, though small and modest, quickly became a place of comfort for me during my time away from home. I was warmly welcomed by Imam Abdirahman and several community members, and over time, I developed genuine friendships with some of the brothers there. Praying alongside them each day, sharing conversations after prayer, and learning about their lives in Kenya gave me a deeper sense of belonging. It reminded me that no matter where you are in the world, the bonds formed through faith and community can feel like home.
As Ramadan neared, I wanted to find a way to give back to the community in Chemolingot that had welcomed me so warmly. I knew that food insecurity was a major challenge in the area, and providing support for Iftar (the meal you break your fast with during Ramadan) and Suhoor (the meal you eat before you start fasting) felt like a meaningful way to ease some of the burden during this blessed month. As I spent more time at the mosque and spoke with Imam Abdirahman and other community members, I came to realize that the need extended beyond Chemolingot. Neighboring communities were facing similar struggles, including Kampi Samaki, where previous support efforts had made a lasting impact, and Marigat, a nearby town working to establish a new mosque. What began as a small idea to support one mosque soon grew into a broader effort to assist multiple communities, driven by the same spirit of gratitude, service, and compassion that Ramadan calls us to embrace.
It was during these conversations that I was introduced to Hassan, a community leader from Marigat. He shared more about the challenges his town faces: while Marigat has two mosques—one on the outskirts established over 40 years ago and a newer, temporary structure made of iron sheets in the town center—the distance between them creates difficulties for many worshippers. Although the community had secured land for a new, permanent mosque in the heart of town, they lacked the resources to clear the land and begin construction. Hearing their story further deepened my commitment to finding ways to support these communities during Ramadan and beyond.
Visiting these communities, praying alongside them, and seeing firsthand their efforts to create spaces of worship despite limited means taught me a powerful Ramadan lesson: that community-driven initiatives, no matter how modest they start, embody the heart of my faith. Charity, or sadaqah—a pillar of faith in Islam—isn't just about giving; it's about strengthening bonds, standing with those in need, and investing in futures we may never fully witness ourselves.
The fundraiser turned out to be a huge success, with the Muslim community at Northeastern University coming together to raise over $1,000 to support these three communities. I partnered with Mwatela, the field coordinator at ACCIH, to organize the purchase of food supplies for the different mosques. Together, we coordinated the logistics of buying, packaging, and distributing the items to Chemolingot, Kampi Samaki, and Marigat. It was an incredibly rewarding experience to see the different communities come together, smiling and helping one another as they received the food packages. Being able to witness the impact of everyone's generosity firsthand was deeply moving. I also had the opportunity to meet many new people during the distributions—community leaders, elders, children—and hearing their gratitude and stories made the experience even more meaningful. It reminded me that even small acts of giving can strengthen bonds and bring hope during a time that is so special for all of us.
Reflecting on this experience, I am incredibly grateful to have been a part of something bigger than myself this Ramadan. It showed me how powerful our collective efforts can be, even from thousands of miles away. It also revealed a deeper connection between faith and public health—how service rooted in compassion not only addresses immediate needs like food insecurity but also strengthens the social fabric that holds communities together. Moving forward, I hope to carry these lessons into all areas of my life, whether in Kenya, back home in the United States, or elsewhere. Faith, service, and community well-being are inseparable, and they remind me that sustainable change begins when we recognize the dignity and resilience of the people we aim to serve. Insha'Allah, I hope this experience continues to inspire me—and others—to act with empathy, purpose, and a global sense of responsibility.
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