Nabi Ibraahim Caruurtiisa -

Ibraahim did not turn around. He could not. His eyes were filled with tears.

Hajar ran after him. “Ibraahim! Where are you going? Are you leaving us in this valley where there is nothing?”

He then asked his father to tie him tightly so he would not struggle, to blindfold himself so he would not hesitate, and to sharpen the knife well so that death would be swift.

In the ancient city of Ur, under a sky full of stars that he alone seemed to understand, lived a man named Ibraahim. He was a prophet, a friend of Allah ( Khalilullah ), who had shattered idols with his own hands and walked unburned through the fire of Nimrod. Yet, despite his towering faith, there was a silence in his tent at night—the silence of a house with no children.

With a faith that shook the heavens, Hajar replied, “Then He will not abandon us.” The water and dates soon ran out. Ismaeel cried and thrashed in thirst. Hajar, in a state of frantic love, ran between the hills of Safa and Marwah seven times, searching for water or a caravan. Finally, on her seventh climb, she heard a voice. She cried out, “I hear you! Do you have help?”

“Shall I bear a child when I am an old woman and this husband of mine is an aged man?” she chuckled to herself, her heart mixing hope with disbelief.

Years earlier, Sarah, seeing her own barrenness, had given her Egyptian handmaiden, Hajar, to Ibraahim as a wife. Soon, Hajar bore Ibraahim his first son: Ismaeel (Ishmael). Joy filled the tent, but so did a new, sharp-edged emotion. Sarah felt the sting of jealousy. She could not bear to see Hajar’s child when her own arms remained empty.

One night, Ibraahim had a recurring dream. In the dream, he was sacrificing his son. The dreams of prophets are revelation. This was a command from Allah.

The test was not about blood. It was about the heart. Would Ibraahim’s love for his long-awaited son outweigh his love for his Creator? Would Ismaeel’s love for his own life outweigh his obedience to his father and Allah?

There, where the baby had kicked his heel into the sand, water burst forth. It gushed out with such force that Hajar tried to contain it, shouting “ Zam! Zam! ” (Stop! Stop!). But the water was a gift from Allah, and it would not stop. It became the well of Zamzam, the heart of a future city. Years passed. Ibraahim would visit his son in Makkah, and Ismaeel grew into a strong, righteous young man. Then came the most profound trial.

Ibraahim said to his son, “O my son, indeed I have seen in a dream that I must sacrifice you. So look, what do you think?”

She asked, “Did Allah command you to do this?”

Ibraahim obeyed. He led Hajar and the suckling baby across the desolate plains until they stood in a hollow of scorched earth, with no trees, no water, no people. He placed them under a lone acacia tree, left a small bag of dates and a waterskin, and turned to leave.

Allah, in His wisdom, revealed to Ibraahim a command that would break any father’s heart: Take Hajar and the infant Ismaeel to a barren, uninhabited valley far away—the valley of Bakkah (later known as Makkah).