Zero Hunger, Growing Hope: A Ramadan Story
reflection become a part of each day. Ramadan teaches patience and gratitude, but what strikes me the most each year is how it opens my heart to others, especially those who don’t know where their next meal is coming from. For me, fasting is a choice, but for many, going hungry isn’t.
One Ramadan, my family and I decided to volunteer to make meal kits for families
struggling to get by. My day would start early, with packing rice, running around the
kitchen on Maa’s orders, setting aside bags of grains and dates, ready for distribution. We worked mostly in silence, each of us focused, knowing why we were there and how much each meal would mean to the families who received it.
As my dad and I drove to deliver the food, I couldn’t shake the thought of how simple it was for me to end my fast at sundown. But for many, hunger is an ongoing reality, not something they can pause or turn off. The discomfort I felt each day of fasting was temporary, while for others, it was a never-ending challenge.
During one of our deliveries, I met a mother with two young children. She looked exhausted, her face lined with worry, but she thanked me with such gratitude. We exchanged only a few words, but her expression said more than words could. She was grateful, not just for the food but for the relief of knowing her children would eat well that
night. Her relief stayed with me, a reminder of what so many experience daily.
That evening, as I broke my fast with my family, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. For me, hunger had ended with the sunset, but for her, it was a constant reality. Ramadan had shown me how connected we all are, how my small act of fasting connected me to her struggle, however briefly.
This experience changed what Ramadan meant to me. It wasn’t only about fasting; it was about growing — in compassion, in understanding, in action. Since that Ramadan, it’s become a family tradition to support zero-hunger initiatives throughout the year.
Each time, I think back to that mother and remember that Ramadan’s lessons don’t end with the last fast. They’re seeds of hope, planted to grow beyond ourselves, for a world
where hunger is history and sustenance is a right, not a privilege.
By: Muhammad Umar Yaksambi
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