Ramadan with Sabah Choudrey

With each new season of South Asian festivals, celebrations and customs, we sit down with dear friends to explore the significance of these moments to them.

One such friend is the indomitable, big-hearted Sabah Choudrey. Among many other worthy feats of activism, they are the Director of Colours Youth Network, supporting young LGBTQ people of colour in the UK, and Vice-Chair for the Board of Trustees at the Inclusive Mosque Initiative, which creates inclusive places for marginalised Muslims. Here, Sabah shares with us their shifting relationship with Islam and Ramadan, the pleasing stillness of the holy month and the enduring challenge of cooking the perfect Biryani.

➺ What does Ramadan mean to you, how has this changed over time?

When I was a child, Ramadan was a time of magic, family and fun. There's something so mischievous about getting up in the dead of night with mum, dad and sister to eat hot aloo paratha glistening with butter, listening to Sunrise Radio and racing to finish a big glass of water before suhoor ends.

As a teenager, my relationship to Islam changed. I went through what I lovingly call 'my atheist phase' after I couldn't see any positive LGBTQ representation in any of the religions I learned about. I didn't feel like there was a place for people like me, so I chose to reject my faith before it rejected me.

When I became an adult and understood my true identity as a trans-masculine tenderqueer, I realised how interwoven my culture was to this. My identity couldn't be separated – my Pakistani roots and my Muslim upbringing also tell my story. So I reclaimed Islam, learning about faith from the perspective of LGBTQ Muslims, reading about Islam myself, and building a personal relationship with Allah.

I started fasting by myself eight years ago. It isn't the same; I get up for suhoor alone, and aloo parathas have turned into overnight oats. But suhoor has become a much-needed moment of introspection. I put on Sunrise Radio to remind me that I'm not alone. And yes, I do still find mischief and fun throughout the day.

➺ Do you have any Ramadan rituals?

One ritual I try to maintain is journalling. I’ve kept a journal since I was a child, and I write for my wellbeing and creativity; it’s a space just for me. Before Ramadan, I write down my intentions for the month, reminding myself that it’s not a punishment or negotiation (I have a history of disordered eating) but a time to practise asking for help and finding self-compassion. I reflect on one thing I learned from last year, one thing I may need support with and one thing I am looking forward to.

➺ Describe a typical day for you during Ramadan.

I wake up at 4.30am, eat as many fruits, oats and leftovers as I can, and read parts of the Qur’an, or journal. Between 9am and 10am, I try to have a lie in, fail, and get ready for the day. Then I’m working from home, writing, or if I have the day off, going for a long walk with a podcast. By 3pm I start flagging and thinking about what to eat for iftar, and at 4pm I start preparing my meal and take a long break from my phone. After I break my fast with water and dates, I’ll do some weightlifting, then shower, eat a big dinner, drink as much water and herbal tea as I can, and relax. Around 9pm, I check my sehri alarms are on, get ready for bed and set my intention to fast tomorrow.

➺ It's a time of self-reflection, how do you harness this beyond the daily fast?

Friends tell me that after Ramadan I'm a much calmer person – the self-reflection is real! I enjoy moments of solitude, finding peace and slowness in everyday things. Taking an hour to make my iftar meal, allowing my feet to meander through a beautiful park, listening to audio stories by Muslim women, and supporting Feminist Iftars with Inclusive Mosque Initiative.

After 10–15 days, I reflect on my connection to Allah, where I’m finding self-compassion, and what I can do or change to make Ramadan better. At the end of Ramadan, I realise that I’ve spent a month without something I thought I needed, usually anger, lust, social media, or unethical spending. So I ask myself, which of these habits can I leave behind?

➺ What are you hoping to take forward with you from the month?

The slowness, the stillness and the space I have to think about my intentions, actions and the impact I’m making on the world, from a small exchange with a stranger to donating to charity. 

I ask myself, which bits would I like to continue? Perhaps it’s the increased connections with my community and faith, perhaps it’s my salah. I set myself new intentions for the days or months ahead and invest in myself. Allah has already invested in me.

➺ What's your favourite thing to see on your iftar table?

I love to cook, but one thing I never really mastered is a chicken biryani, so it's a real treat for me. There is nothing like it; fluffy rice, soft slow-cooked meat, rich onion masala, and dashes of green and pink colouring – “zabardast!” Everyone has an opinion on the perfect biryani and it can even lead to some divisive arguments, but I don’t discriminate: all biryani is good biryani!

Time for a quick-fire round…

➼ Suhoor or iftar?

Suhoor. Don't get me wrong, it's a struggle and I definitely sleep through my alarms a few times! But having a moment all to myself, in the dark and quiet, is a great time to set my intentions for the day, read the Qur'an and feel close to Allah.

➼ Who are you trusting to make the chai each iftar?

Is it totally stereotypical to say my mum? She always makes it perfectly. Just the right amount of milk, sugar and cardamom heated to a gorgeous warm brown colour. “Mmm, mazedar!”

➼ Who are you giving your last samosa to?

Palestine. Last year was a Ramadan no Palestinians will ever forget and this year I don't think it's much different. With a tenuous ceasefire, continued famine, grief and hostility, I’m praying for a peaceful Ramadan in Palestine.

In our next installment of Rooted in Ritual, architect, chef and author Ayesha Erkin shares her reflections on Ramadan. Keep keen eyes peeled.