For so many reasons, 2025 was definitely the best year of my life. It had a lot to do with my travelling experiences to places I’d never been before – Prague, Shanghai, Switzerland and Austria to name a few. But it culminated in a charity mission in Southwest Algeria, to a refugee camp just outside Tindouf. This last trip was something which brought me immense fulfilment which I cannot even encompass adequately with words.
I arrived at Boujdour camp on 27 December, home to some of the almost 200,000 refugees displaced from Western Sahara – a country still seeking to exist since 1975 in its own right without Moroccan domination or interference. The people I met were a gracious, dignified and determined group who are still quietly fighting for their right to self-determination and yet know that they must eke out a living within the means they have. Their pain was palpable and memories of eviction and escape all those years ago, are definitely palpable within.
I had been fighting my own nerves given this was the first time I could finally claim to have undertaken a charity mission on my own from beginning to end. I had no companion on my journey except Allah. My fears and thoughts I contained within and with every step of my journey, I promised myself to plough on and not allow myself to surrender to my weaknesses. Alhamdulilah, I did resolve to push myself out of my comfort zone because this trip taught me so much about myself as much as it did about the people I was hoping to serve.
From the outset, I knew that I would be comfortable existing amongst this community as I have already lived amongst Mauritanians and the Western Sahrawis are closely aligned to their customs and traditions. In fact, it’s virtually impossible to tell them apart. There were times I had to pinch myself to remind myself I was not sitting with Mauritanians but their neighbours. It was a surreal experience since my mind often betrayed what my eyes and ears were seeing and hearing. The desert landscape and terrain was also so familiar and in all, these were things that combined to remind me of my past life in Mauritania.
My role out there was to provide teacher-training for the English teachers in an after-school programme and to to model some classes for their benefit. It was a rewarding experience since I got to meet the staff and the lovely children whose purity and innocence was so endearing. I must say, this version of childhood is one which I haven’t seen in a long time in the West even as someone who works so closely with young children on a daily basis. There is a beautfiul etiquette which the Sahrawi children display and which is something deeply yet so subtly imbued in them. Their relationship with their own teachers was also beautiful to see as it is built on trust and respect. It’s reassuring to know that these attributes are still alive in a world which has become so cynical and guarded.
But aside from the core purpose of my trip, the one unexpected thing which I returned home with and touched me very deeply was the time spent with my fellow volunteers who were living in the same house of our host family. Never in a million years did I think I would bond so easily with a 23 year old young Mexican called Ray, nor Leif, a 67 year old Swedish humanitarian and last but not least, Marta, a 30 year old Portugese artist from Brussels. Leif and Marta did not meet each other but I was fortunate to have spent time with all of them in individual or joint conversations. It was a few days of my life existing as me and not as an appendage to someone else. I was not mother, sister, daughter, aunt or anything else. I was just me. And to be able to express that persona to others who have nothing other to go on except what I wanted to present, was simply liberating for me.
I learnt about them as much as they learnt about me. Those conversations often deeply entrenched in topics such as spirituality, identity, politics, religion, art and even music, were wonderful moments of human connection. They are conversations I will always cherish and I will probably not forget this episode of my life for a long time. Not only did I finally achieve something I’ve always dreamt of doing in the way of NGO work, but I experience the coming together of such different souls and a unique bond that we all shared despite our superficial differences. By stripping away the outer layers of our identity, I could see we are all the same – each one searching for meaning in this life and trying to find our purpose. The fact that we had all chosen to sacrifice our version of ‘normal’ and go out to Africa to do humanitarian work, was testimony to what we already share in common. Our little motley crew was a beautiful microcosm of how I envisage the world should be with all its human diversity. We really need to focus more on what brings us together than what keeps us apart. The desire to have an open mind without egotistical prejudices would be a great place to start. At least, I got a taste of that Utopia during my stay in Boujdour camp.
In essence, I got more than I bargained for in this mission to a refugee camp. I had only ever wanted to make a modest contribution to the betterment of its people and insha’Allah, that’s exactly what I accomplished. What I didn’t expect was to meet beautiful souls from different corners of the world but whose outlook on life align with mine and who I feel I will always be in touch with because of those deeply enriching few days spent together. As the one who is more advanced in years, I only hope to see the younger ones do amazing things as they grow older and carry the torch of justice and compassion on their own journeys.
In a world where Islam has sadly become a dirty word, it is comforting and reassuring to know that there are others who stand from outside its fold and yet are able to see that this faith and some of its people, have been dealt an unfair card. The only way to truly understand someone or something is to get up close and approach with an open mind. That takes a sort of bravery and already places that person on a higher, more respectable echelon of society than others. Kudos to my new, young friends of the Sahara who have restored my own faith in humanity. I am deeply grateful for my life and for having had the chance to meet such wonderfully curious people whose own soul-searching journey mirrors my own. Our paths crossed perhaps not as fortuitously as it may seem. Surely, Allah’works in mysterious ways.
If I am fortunate enough to partake in any more future trips in the name of charity, I hope to meet more individuals with the same unbiased outlook on life. It would be my even better fortune if I were to meet up with the same wonderful people again. Meanwhile, i pray that the refugee community is repatriated back to their own homeland and enjoy a dignity and dreams of living freely and with total self-respect, insha’Allah.
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