Mahmood and Najeeba Surty
11 June 2026 | 18:00 CAT

We want to share Humayrah’s story, not only to thank those who supported us, but also in the hope that it may strengthen someone’s faith in Allah and bring comfort to those facing their own tests.

Humayrah’s story began during some of the most blessed days of the year.

On the 7th of Dhul-Hijjah 1447, during the first ten days of Dhul-Hijjah, Allah blessed us with a beautiful baby girl in Makkah Mukarramah.

We had travelled to the Holy Lands intending to perform Hajj, never imagining that Allah had written a very different journey for us.

Without warning, Najeeba went into labour at only six months of pregnancy.

We were far from home.

Far from our families.

Far from everything familiar.

As a husband, one of the most difficult parts of the experience was knowing that I could not be by her side throughout much of the labour process.

When I think back to those moments, I am reminded of the incredible courage of Humayrah’s mother.

Najeeba carried our daughter, worried for our daughter, prayed for our daughter and loved our daughter with every part of her heart.

She faced premature labour in a foreign country, away from her family and support structures, yet Allah placed remarkable strength and faith in her heart.

Humayrah was born weighing only 570 grams.

Yet she was beautifully formed.

Every time I looked at her, I was amazed by the perfection of Allah’s creation.

Despite her size, she was complete, beautiful and deeply loved from the very first moment.

From the very beginning, she was a fighter.

For seven precious days, Allah entrusted Humayrah to us and, through her, taught us lessons that many people spend a lifetime trying to learn.

During those days, our family and friends back home in South Africa followed every update, made du’a and carried part of our burden from thousands of kilometres away.

We also witnessed the beauty of the Ummah in ways we never expected.

South African hujjaj reached out with messages, visits, du’as and words of comfort.

People who barely knew us felt our pain as though it were their own.

Saudi taxi drivers, complete strangers to us, offered reminders of Allah’s mercy and encouraged us to place our trust in Him.

In those moments, we witnessed the truth of the words of Rasulullah ﷺ that the believers are like one body.

When one part of the body hurts, the whole body feels pain.

We experienced that with our own eyes.

Family members in South Africa cried with us.

Friends checked on us constantly.

Fellow hujjaj visited us, comforted us and made du’a for us.

Even complete strangers offered words of comfort and encouragement.

Through all of them, Allah reminded us that we were not carrying this burden alone.

Among those whose kindness we will never forget are Uncle Arshad and Auntie Zeenat Dockrat, who stood by us and supported us throughout this difficult journey.

We are deeply grateful to Auntie Fatima Mohammed, who went out of her way to visit us and assist us wherever she could.

We are equally grateful to Dr Fazel Mookadam, who provided support, guidance and, most importantly, a shoulder to cry on when the burden felt overwhelming.

A special word of gratitude is also due to Dr Tasneem Mohammed who, despite being on Hajj herself, continued checking on Najeeba, offering support, encouragement and sincere concern throughout our journey.

Through every one of these people, we saw Allah’s mercy.

Looking back, one of the greatest blessings Allah bestowed upon us was allowing us to complete the essential rites of Hajj.

By Allah’s mercy, Najeeba was discharged soon after giving birth and was able to stand on the plains of Arafah.

Together we completed Arafah.

Together we spent the night in Muzdalifah.

Together we completed the essential rites of Hajj.

When we reflect on those days, we do not see our own strength.

We see Allah carrying us.

Humayrah fought for long enough to allow both her mother and father to complete this sacred journey before returning to her Creator.

On the 14th of Dhul-Hijjah, Allah called our daughter back to Him.

Her entire life unfolded during the blessed days of Dhul-Hijjah.

From the 7th of Dhul-Hijjah until the 14th of Dhul-Hijjah.

From her first breath until her last, Allah surrounded her story with sacred times and sacred places.

I carried her.

I kissed her little head.

I buried her with my own hands.

I cried for her.

No father imagines that one day he will lower his own child into a grave.

Yet even in that moment, Allah taught me gratitude.

Before I buried Humayrah, there was another baby who had also passed away.

There was no father there.

There was no mother there.

There was no family member to bury that child.

So I buried that baby.

And then I buried my own daughter.

In that moment, despite my own grief, I realised how much Allah had still blessed me.

Allah allowed me to hold my daughter.

Allah allowed me to carry my daughter.

Allah allowed me to kiss her little head.

Allah allowed me to lower her into her grave with my own hands.

Allah allowed me to fulfil the final duty of a father towards his child.

Today, by Allah’s decree, those two children rest beside one another.

May Allah shower both of them with His mercy.

There is perhaps no pain like the pain of losing a child.

Yet one of the greatest comforts we found was knowing that this was a pain experienced by the best of creation, our beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ.

Rasulullah ﷺ buried six of his seven children during his lifetime.

He knew the pain of saying goodbye to a child.

He knew the pain of tears.

He knew the pain of loss.

When his son Ibrahim passed away, he wept and taught us that grief and faith can exist together.

For us, this was a reminder that our tears are not a sign of weakness, but a sign of love.

One of the greatest honours Allah bestowed upon Humayrah was that her janazah salah was performed in Masjid al-Haram, before the Ka’bah, in the most sacred place on earth.

It was during one of the busiest periods of the year.

Hundreds of thousands of worshippers were present.

Perhaps close to a million.

Row upon row of believers from every corner of the world stood before Allah and joined in the janazah prayer.

How many righteous servants of Allah made du’a for Humayrah that day?

How many angels said Ameen?

Only Allah knows.

As parents, we can only stand in awe of the honour and mercy Allah surrounded her with.

Humayrah was born in Makkah.

She lived in Makkah.

She returned to Allah in Makkah.

Her janazah was performed in Makkah.

Her entire worldly life unfolded within the blessed boundaries of the Haram.

Based on the virtues mentioned in the hadith regarding Makkah and the Haram, and the understanding of many scholars regarding the immense blessings and multiplication of rewards therein, we can only stand in awe of the mercy Allah chose to surround her with.

Only Allah knows the extent of the honour, reward and blessings He has prepared for her.

One of the greatest comforts we found in our grief is the beautiful hadith in which Allah promises a special home in Paradise, known as Bayt al-Hamd, the House of Praise, for parents who respond to the loss of a child with patience and trust in Him.

As grieving parents, that promise means everything to us.

We pray that Allah grants us patience.

We pray that Allah grants us Bayt al-Hamd.

We pray that He accepts our tears, our grief and our efforts to remain grateful despite our pain.

Another source of comfort is the hadith that tells us that children who pass away are under the care of Nabi Ibrahim (alayhis salaam).

We travelled to Makkah to follow the footsteps of Ibrahim (alayhis salaam) through Hajj.

What a beautiful thought that the very Prophet whose journey we came to honour is now, by Allah’s permission, caring for our daughter.

Who better than Ibrahim (alayhis salaam) to look after our little Humayrah?

The Prophet ﷺ also taught us that children who pass away before reaching maturity will intercede for their parents.

This gives us tremendous comfort.

We do not think of Humayrah as lost.

We think of her as waiting.

Waiting under the care of Ibrahim (alayhis salaam).

Waiting for her mother and father.

As parents, we dream of holding our children’s hands and guiding them through life.

By Allah’s mercy, we believe that one day Humayrah will be the one taking us by the hand.

We share Humayrah’s story not because the pain has disappeared.

It has not.

We share it because we hope it strengthens faith in Allah.

We hope it reminds people that Allah’s mercy can be present even in moments of immense pain.

We hope it reminds people that Allah never abandons His servants.

We hope it reminds people that every decree of Allah contains wisdom, even when we cannot yet understand it.

If our story helps even one person place their trust in Allah during a difficult time, remain patient through a trial, or find comfort after a loss, then we pray that Humayrah continues to be a source of goodness even after her passing.

Humayrah’s life lasted only seven days.

Yet Allah surrounded every one of those seven days with blessing.

She was born during the blessed days of Dhul-Hijjah.

She was born in Makkah.

Her parents completed Hajj.

Her janazah was performed in Masjid al-Haram before the Ka’bah among hundreds of thousands of worshippers.

She rests in the sacred land.

She is under the care of Nabi Ibrahim (alayhis salaam).

And, by the promise conveyed through Rasulullah ﷺ, she awaits her parents.

For a life that lasted only seven days, Allah filled her story with blessings that many people spend a lifetime longing for.

We miss her every day.

Her mother misses her every day.

Her grandparents miss her every day.

Our families miss her every day.

But we do not think of her as lost.

We think of her as waiting.

To everyone who made du’a, sent a message, visited us, comforted us, cried with us or remembered us in their prayers, may Allah reward you abundantly.

And to our beloved daughter:

Wait for us, our little Humayrah.

By the mercy of Allah, we will meet again.

Ameen.

Mahmood and Najeeba Surty