Hajj: A Spiritual Rebirth: Hajar – Shaykh Abdul-Rahim Reasat

This is the third of seven articles based on the Hajj: A Spiritual Rebirth seminar, delving into the spirit, context, virtues and etiquettes of the Hajj.

Hajar doesn’t know anything about what’s happening. She’s simply told what to do, and she obeys. She follows, trusting that Ibrahim, being a righteous man, would never do something unjust or harmful.

So, Ibrahim takes her and when they reach the desert, he gives her a container of water and some food. Then, he leaves her there. What does he do next? He turns around and starts walking away.

Naturally, she follows after him, calling out: “Where are you going? Are you leaving us here?” Imagine that moment.

Why did he walk away like that? It shows the deep humanity of the Prophet Ibrahim. He’s a father, a devoted husband, this is painful for him. Some tests from Allah are like that. Allah knows which buttons to press, so to speak. These are real emotional trials, and they’re not easy. Ibrahim must have realized that if he stopped, if he explained too much, or if he allowed himself to speak, he might not be able to follow through with what Allah had commanded. The emotional weight might stop him.

This human side of the prophets was also a part of their trials. Take the example of Prophet Nuh (peace be upon him), he wanted to save his son during the flood, but his son rejected the message. The son said, “I’ll take refuge on a mountain,” and Nuh replied, “There is no protection from the decree of Allah today.” That moment was painful too.

So Ibrahim turned and walked away. Then, Hajar asked him, “Did Allah command you to do this?” And he replied, “Yes.” Her response was amazing. She said, “Then He will not let us be harmed.” That was her trust, her certainty, in Allah.

And she said that while holding only a few dates and a small amount of water, perhaps just a couple of liters. No one else was around, just an empty desert. But look at her trust. She knew that if Allah had placed her in this situation, there must be wisdom in it. She accepted it, even though it was extremely difficult.

No one ever said that tests would be easy. There are some people in the Umma to whom Allah gives a unique state of contentment. Even with their hardships, they feel a certain joy because they know their beloved Lord is personally giving them His attention. And although the pain is real, that divine attention is itself a gift.

But for the majority of people, trials are painful. Even the Prophet Muhammad (Allah bless him and give him peace), when he lost both his wife and his uncle in the same year, called it “The Year of Grief.” Feeling sad, hurt, or overwhelmed is natural.

But tawakkul (reliance on Allah) means that deep inside, you’re confident Allah will handle everything. There’s no panic, no frantic running around, no desperation. You might be tired, struggling, or hurting, but you’re not lost. You know that if there are available means, like going to a doctor, you take them. But if there’s nothing in your control, then you trust Allah completely. It will work out in the best possible way.

And that’s what Hajar did.

Let’s reflect on her test. Ibrahim (Peace be upon him) leaves her, Hajar, alone in a barren valley, surrounded only by mountains. There are no buildings, no people, nothing. Just her and her infant son, Ismail, who is crying, whether a toddler or still a baby, we’re not sure, but he’s weeping nonetheless.

As any mother knows, hearing your child cry like that causes real, physical pain in the heart. On top of that, while she trusts that Allah will take care of them, the how remains unknown. And that uncertainty is a trial in itself.

So, what is she to do? She reaches a breaking point, she can no longer just sit there and watch. In desperation, she climbs the nearest hill she can find: Safa.

If you visit today, Safa seems only a few meters above ground level due to the construction around the mosque. But back then, it was a substantial hill, not quite a mountain, but definitely a steep and difficult climb. From there, she scans the area for any sign of life, water, food, anything.

A nursing mother needs water to continue producing milk, and in that scorching heat, the stakes were higher than ever. Her baby is crying. She’s panicked. She’s desperate. And yet, her love drives her to act.

She descends from Safa and heads towards Marwah. This isn’t a smooth, marble floor like today. I’ve timed it during Umrah, it takes about 5–7 minutes walking briskly on the modern flooring. But imagine it back then, jagged rocks, hot ground, no smooth paths. And yet, this mother, fueled by love and faith, goes back and forth seven times.

The green-lit area that pilgrims now walk briskly through? That’s where she would run, not sprint, but a quick, urgent run, because in that dip, she lost sight of her child. She ran until she could see him again.

On the seventh run, she hears something. She stops and says to herself, “Quiet.” Talking to herself, trying to focus. Then she hears it again, a sound.

She calls out, “You’ve made yourself heard. If you can help, then please help!”

There are two narrations about what happened next. In one, Jibril (Peace be upon him) strikes the ground with his wing. In another, baby Ismail is thrashing about and hits the ground with his heel. Either way, water springs forth. This is the origin of Zamzam.

As the water gushes out, Hajar begins to shape a basin around it, trying to contain it. The Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) later said, had she not tried to contain it, Zamzam would have become a flowing stream rather than a well.

Today, Zamzam is found underground, but older photos from the early 1900s show the original well accessible in the mataaf (the area of tawaf). You could go down and drink directly from it.

What’s remarkable is that all of this, her running, her desperation, her faith, is so beloved to Allah that He made it part of the pilgrimage. Every pilgrim reenacts those steps, not because of the hardship alone, but because in that moment, she chose Allah over everything, over ease, over comfort, even over her own fear.

Isn’t it incredible? It’s an early sign of Allah’s help, a miraculous one at that.

Then came the water, bringing with it countless blessings. Just think about it: how many millions have drunk from that water?

It’s all there because of the sacrifice and faith of Ismail and Hajar, right?

Reflect on that. The Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) told us that our rewards are based on our intentions, and countless people have witnessed miracles, healing, and incredible experiences through the water of Zamzam.

It’s truly amazing.

That was Hajar’s part in the story. Then there’s the powerful sacrifice of Ibrahim (peace be upon him).

When you’re there performing the rites, you can almost picture Hajar fully accepting the difficulty of her situation, with strength and faith.