Every year during Ramadan, I observe how Abu Dhabi changes around me: the quieter afternoons, the packed supermarkets at dusk and the way the city gathers itself just before sunset as families and friends come together for iftar to break their fasts. To me, it has always felt like a particularly beautiful and calming time.
After living in the UAE capital for more than 12 years, and feeling inspired by my Muslim friends, I have decided to try fasting for the entirety of the holy month. I have managed to complete a few days in the past, but I have never been able to do all of it. This year, with Ramadan falling during the cooler months in the UAE, I am hoping to have better luck.
There is something awe-inspiring about the discipline required to fast between sunrise and sunset, and about the idea of being more patient – not only with others, but with yourself. I have witnessed how the holy month can bring out the best in people, whether through charitable giving or simple acts of kindness and compassion.
Another aspect of fasting I appreciate is how it instils gratitude. In a world of constant access and convenience, it is easy to forget the privilege of having food readily available and of never having to go to bed hungry or thirsty. While many of us are fortunate, Ramadan serves as a reminder of those who are not, and of the responsibility to give where we can and not to be wasteful of what we have.
Of course, I do have some worries. The biggest is whether I will actually be able to complete the full month – especially after writing an entire column declaring my intention to do so. My Muslim friends have been supportive and are quick to remind me that it’s the effort that matters, but I know I would still feel a quiet sense of disappointment if I fall short.
So far into the first week of Ramadan, it hasn’t been as difficult as I imagined. On the first day, I managed to wake up at 4.45am for suhoor, rummaging through my kitchen for something that might keep me full throughout the day. I settled on protein cereal with a banana, though I wasn’t entirely confident it would be enough, and also made scrambled eggs with some brown rice I had cooked previously, taking my last sips of water before the Adhan.
As someone who admittedly doesn’t drink enough water on a normal day, by noon I could already feel how dry my throat had become, a small but constant reminder of how fortunate I am to usually have easy access to drinking water.
Before the holy month began, in preparation, I asked friends and colleagues for their tips on fasting, while doing some research of my own. One suggested carrying a toothbrush at work, as dehydration can lead to bad breath, while another stressed the importance of a proper suhoor meal. I’ve never been much of a breakfast person, but he insisted it would be more beneficial to eat something rather than nothing.
He told me that while protein is important, carbohydrates are also necessary to function throughout the day. He shared how he breaks his fast with dates and water and lets it settle before waiting to start his meal. This is something I wish I had known during a previous fast a few years ago, when I immediately fell asleep halfway through my iftar meal at home, much to the amusement of my friends in a WhatsApp group. Other practical tips include drinking plenty of water after iftar, keeping electrolytes on hand and not overdoing it at the first meal.
I also wonder how fasting will affect my working days. Even with reduced hours, adjusting to a new routine – including a different sleep schedule – will take some getting used to. There will be the mental challenge of staying focused when energy is low and of learning to work through hunger rather than around it.
So while I’m not quite sure what will happen this Ramadan, I’m looking forward to the journey. As a small show of solidarity with friends and colleagues who have done this for years – not to replicate their experience, but to better understand it. If nothing else, I hope it teaches me to slow down, be more mindful and appreciate the stillness and calmness the holy month brings to the city I call home.
