Most people in the UK are familiar with the routine. As Ramadan approaches, the WhatsApp groups start buzzing. We’re planning the big Iftars, hunting for the best dates at the shops, and counting down the minutes until we can finally have that first sip of cold water after a long, hot day. But for Sahar […]
Most people in the UK are familiar with the routine. As Ramadan approaches, the WhatsApp groups start buzzing. We’re planning the big Iftars, hunting for the best dates at the shops, and counting down the minutes until we can finally have that first sip of cold water after a long, hot day.
But for Sahar Abdul Qader, that countdown doesn’t bring joy anymore. It fills her with a sense of emptiness. After three years of surviving a war that just won’t quit, the arrival of the holy month isn’t a celebration. It’s a painful reminder of everything—and everyone—that’s gone.
“We Don’t Want the Sun to Set”
“We used to wait for Ramadan on pins and needles,” Sahar says. You can hear the exhaustion in her voice. “We used to count the days. But now? We don’t even want to hear the Adhan.”
It’s a heavy thing to hear. In a world where the Maghrib prayer is supposed to be a moment of relief, Sahar and her family now dread it. Why? Because the sunset shines a light on the empty seats at her table.
During the fighting, Sahar lost her nephew and her brother-in-law. They weren’t just names on a news ticker. They were the ones who made the house feel full. “It’s a hard, hard feeling,” she explains. “When we sit down to eat, I see him. He used to sit right there, next to me. We shared the same plate.”
For Sahar, the real hunger isn’t for food. It’s for the people who should be sitting across from her.
A Prayer for the Rest of the World
What kills me about Sahar’s story isn’t just the loss—it’s her heart. Even with everything she’s been through, she’s still thinking about everyone else.
“I just hope this Ramadan brings some relief to people,” she prays. “I hope God provides so no one else has to feel this. No one should have to sit at an Iftar table and realize their family is missing.”
It’s a simple wish, but when you’re living in the middle of a conflict, it’s a massive act of faith.
What Giving Hands UK is Doing About It
Look, we can’t bring back the people Sahar has lost. We can’t stop the sounds of the war outside her door. But we can make sure that when the sun goes down, she isn’t wondering where her next meal is coming from.
Giving Hands UK is on the ground right now. We’re taking your Zakat and Sadaqah and turning them into food packs—real, life-saving stuff like flour, rice, oil, and dates. We’re focusing on the people who have been hit the hardest: the widows, the orphans, and the families who have lost their breadwinners.
Our goal is simple: to make sure that even if the table is smaller than it used to be, it isn’t empty.
Don’t Let Them Break Their Fast Alone
This Ramadan, while you’re enjoying Iftar with your friends and family, think about that “same plate” Sahar mentioned.
Your donation isn’t just money; it’s a message. It tells Sahar that her brothers and sisters in the UK haven’t forgotten her. It tells her that even in the middle of a war, she’s still part of a community that cares.
Please, dig deep this year. Let’s help Sahar and thousands like her find a little bit of peace in the middle of the chaos.
Where is my donation actually going?
Every cent you give goes toward buying and delivering food parcels in high-need areas. We work with local teams who know the streets and the families, making sure the food gets to those who are actually starving, not just those who are easiest to reach.
Can I add Gift Aid to my donation?
Yes. Giving Hands UK is a registered charity, so eligible UK taxpayers can add Gift Aid. If you are a UK taxpayer, Gift Aid adds 25% to your donation at no extra cost. We’ll send your receipt straight to your inbox so you’re all set for tax time.
Is this Zakat-eligible?
Absolutely. We have a strict 100% Zakat policy. Your funds are kept separate and distributed only to those who meet the Islamic requirements—the most vulnerable people in our Ummah.
How do you get food into a war zone?
It’s tough, but we’ve been doing this for a long time. We use local supply chains and trusted networks to get around the roadblocks. We don’t just send boxes; we make sure they land in the hands of people like Sahar.