Sīrat al-Ḥabīb ﷺ: The Luminous Migration

Chapter 10

Written by Mateen A. Khan, NJ

A version of this article was first published in Al-Madania Magazine.

The Makkan Tide Turns

We last left off with Yathrib having embraced Islam and begun its transformation into al-Madīnah al-Munawwarah, the city illuminated by the Prophet ﷺ. Many of the noble Companions from Makkah had already migrated. The Quraysh, seeing their grip weaken and his ﷺ influence grow beyond their borders, grew ever more alarmed. At first, he and his family had been an oddity, a curiosity easily dismissed. Then the poor and the weak rallied to him. That, too, they endured, until noblemen and travelers, men of stature and intellect, began embracing his call. When the Anṣār gave their pledge, the message had crossed from one city to another, from a private mission to a collective cause. With Madīnah offering itself as Islam’s protector, the balance had shifted. How could the mighty Quraysh now face the other tribes when they had failed to silence their own?

Before we follow the Prophet ﷺ on this sacred migration, we must revisit the first to believe in him: his most loyal friend, Sayyidunā Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq (may Allah be pleased with him). No words of mine nor any attempt at eloquence can capture the full extent of his love. He was the first to believe, the first to affirm his truthfulness without hesitation. He endured beatings, boycotts, and banishment, all for the sake of standing beside his beloved ﷺ. When others had gone ahead to Madīnah, he stayed behind, waiting to escort the Messenger ﷺ during his destined emigration. He prepared provisions and instructed his household to aid in secret. He would not miss the honor of being his companion, not even for a single step of that blessed path.

Pain of Parting & Priority of Īmān

While Sayyidunā Abū Bakr waited in devotion, the Quraysh conspired in hatred. The accursed Iblīs whispered to them, and they answered by gathering a youth from each clan to spill his blood together, so that no single tribe could be held accountable. But Allah had decreed otherwise. He revealed their scheme to His Prophet ﷺ, and the Messenger ﷺ responded with divine composure. He instructed Sayyidunā ʿAlī (may Allah be pleased with him) to sleep in his bed, wrapped in his green Ḥaḍramī cloak, so that those surrounding his home would be caught off guard. By the time they stormed in, it was Sayyidunā ʿAlī who lay resting in peace, while the Messenger of Allah ﷺ had already departed under the shelter of night.

That night, he ﷺ made his way to the house of Sayyidunā Abū Bakr, having been granted permission by Allah to begin their Hijra. When he ﷺ knocked, Sayyidunā Abū Bakr opened the door with eager anticipation. “Together, O Messenger of Allah?” he asked. The Prophet ﷺ replied, “Yes, you will accompany me, O Abū Bakr.”

No heart can imagine the joy of Sayyidunā Abū Bakr at that moment.

The human soul is naturally tied to the land of its birth. There are memories that cannot be unmade: childhood paths, the graves of forefathers, the comfort of familiar sights and scents. That love is intensified a thousandfold when the land in question is Makkah, the cradle of tawḥīd, the sanctuary built by Sayyidunā Ibrāhīm (peace be upon him), and the place where the Quran first descended. The Prophet ﷺ loved Makkah, and Makkah loved him. And Makkah was never more beloved to Allah than when it contained him.

As he ﷺ departed, his heart full yet obedient, he turned back to his homeland and said:

“By Allah, you are the most beloved land of Allah to me, and the most beloved land of Allah to Allah. Had your people not expelled me, I would never have left you.” (al-Tirmidhī, 3925)

But the command of Allah comes before all else. The preservation of the dīn requires sacrifice. This moment stands as a lesson for every believer forced to leave a land that stifles his faith: leave the soil, but never leave īmān.

“O My servants who believe, be mindful of your Lord. For those who do good in this world is a good reward. And the earth of Allah is vast. Only those who endure patiently shall be given their reward in full, without measure.” (al-Zumar, 39:10)

Love Abounds

Though Makkah wept at letting go of her noblest son, it was as though all of creation beyond her walls embraced him in joy. The heavens welcomed him, the earth opened to him, and every creature in between awaited him. Welcome to him! What an excellent arrival this is!

Every detail of the Hijra is a testimony to love. The love of Sayyidunā Abū Bakr’s household knew no limits. His son Sayyidunā ʿAbdullāh moved through the city by day, listening carefully to the deliberations of the Quraysh, then returned each night to carry word back. Their freed slave, Sayyidunā ʿĀmir ibn Fuhayrah, drove his flock daily across the path of their retreat, letting the animals’ hooves erase all trace of footprints, before arriving under the cover of darkness with fresh milk. His daughter Sayyidatunā Asmāʾ, known as Dhāt al-Niṭāqayn, the Lady of the Two Waistbands, tore her own belt in two to secure their provisions and carried them through the night without complaint.

Not just humans, but every creature of Allah wished to play its part. In the Cave of Thawr, while the Quraysh’s trackers prowled just outside, a spider drew its silk across the cave’s mouth, and a pair of doves settled to nest beside it. The disbelievers, reading such signs of undisturbed stillness, concluded that no one had passed through. But the One who governs hearts had made creation itself stand watch over its Beloved ﷺ.

Even the beasts of the earth could not bear to see harm draw near to him. When Surāqah ibn Mālik pursued the pair on behalf of the Quraysh, his horse stumbled and sank into the earth, not once but three times. The ground, it is said, softened itself in refusal to carry a pursuer of the Prophet ﷺ. I wonder whether the horse itself did not allow this willingly, claiming for itself a share in the protection of the Messenger ﷺ over the wishes of its master.

Later, when they came upon the tent of Sayyidatunā Umm Maʿbad al-Khuzāʿiyyah, her gaunt ewe had no milk to offer, until the Prophet’s ﷺ noble hands touched it and he invoked Allah’s name. At once, the udder swelled full and overflowed into the vessel for all to drink.

Sayyidatunā Umm Maʿbad, transfixed by the man she had just beheld, described him to her husband afterward with words that have never left the hearts of those who have affection for him:

A man radiant and noble, luminous of face and graceful in bearing. Neither spare nor heavy—perfectly proportioned. His eyes were wide and intensely dark, their lashes long; his voice gentle and resonant. His neck gleamed; his beard was full; his brows arched and nearly meeting. He was neither short nor excessively tall, a man of balance. From afar, the most radiant of people; from near, the most beautiful. In silence he inspired awe; in speech he drew hearts. His words were clear, measured, and dense with meaning, neither too few nor too many. Loyal companions surrounded him, and when he spoke, they fell to reverent stillness. (al-Ṭabarānī, al-Muʿjam al-kabīr; al-Ḥākim, al-Mustadrak)

Yet of all who surrounded him, none loved him more than Sayyidunā Abū Bakr. During the journey, he walked alternately in front of and behind the Prophet ﷺ, alert for ambush from either direction. When they reached the cave, Sayyidunā Abū Bakr entered first, feeling his way through the darkness, sealing every gap he could find, and where he could find nothing else, pressing his own foot against an opening to cover it. As the Prophet ﷺ rested, a scorpion stung Sayyidunā Abū Bakr. The pain was severe, but he bore it in silence until a tear slipped from his eye and landed upon the blessed face of the sleeping Prophet ﷺ. He ﷺ stirred awake and, understanding at once, applied his saliva to the wound. The pain cured.

Such was their bond. So complete was Sayyidunā Abū Bakr’s companionship that Allah enshrined it in the Quran itself:

“Allah did help him when those who disbelieved drove him out, the second of two, when they were both in the cave. He said to his companion: ‘Do not grieve; indeed, Allah is with us.’ Then Allah sent down His tranquility upon him and strengthened him with unseen hosts…” (al-Tawbah, 9:40)

A City Illuminated

On Monday, the 12th of Rabīʿ al-Awwal, the Prophet ﷺ arrived at Qubāʾ, just outside Madīnah. The path they had taken was long, winding, and deliberately unfamiliar, chosen to evade the eyes of their enemies. And yet that path had been paved at every turn by love: the love of the best of men, the love of simple creatures, and the love of hearts that had been yearning across the miles.

The Anṣār had been counting the hours and the days. Each morning they went to the city’s edge, eyes fixed on the horizon. When the midday sun grew merciless, they returned to their homes, only to come back out again the next morning. Then one day, a Jewish man spotted two distant figures shimmering into view across the valley floor and called from his rooftop: “The one you have been waiting for has come!” What followed can only be described as a city exhaling after having held its breath for years. Hundreds poured into the streets, raising dust as they ran, and the takbīr rang through the palms until it seemed the city itself was calling out.

Sayyidunā Anas ibn Mālik would later say, “I have never seen a day better or brighter than the day on which the Messenger of Allah ﷺ came to us in Madīnah.” The sun blazed as it always had over that valley of date palms and stone, and yet something in the light that day was different, as though it had been given permission to carry more than heat. It illuminated not only the streets, but the interior of every heart that opened to receive it.

The chests of men, women, slaves, and children resonated with takbīr. And the winds carried the city’s song through its streets:

طَلَعَ الْبَدْرُ عَلَيْنَا مِنْ ثَنِيَّاتِ الْوَدَاعِ وَجَبَ الشُّكْرُ عَلَيْنَا مَا دَعَا لِلَّهِ دَاعِ أَيُّهَا الْمَبْعُوثُ فِينَا جِئْتَ بِالْأَمْرِ الْمُطَاعِ جِئْتَ شَرَّفْتَ الْمَدِينَةَ مَرْحَبًا يَا خَيْرَ دَاعِ

The full moon has risen upon us From the mountain passes of al-Wadāʿ. And gratitude is a duty upon us So long as there remains one who calls to Allah.

O you who have been sent among us, You have brought commands worthy of obedience. You have come, and you have ennobled Madīnah. Welcome to you, O best of those who call to Allah.

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