A bizarre experience.
The Centre of Islamic Studies is a stunning building, & as a traveller I always make it a point to visit masajid wherever I go. Usually these visits leave me feeling welcome & uplifted. Sadly, this was the first time I walked away feeling as though I did not belong.
I came with my two children, hoping for peace & inspiration. My 4-year-old made some innocent noise in an otherwise empty mosque, & the imam chose to announce it over the mic. Later in salah I was singled out & asked to move forward, even though I do not recall moving even a centimetre. It seemed less about necessity & more about exerting authority, perhaps because I had removed my bag & placed it neatly in front of me before salah so as not to inconvenience those beside me. As someone with a hidden disability, the manner in which this was done left an even greater impact. At times, his manner came across as cold & authoritarian, which made the whole experience even harder.
We had walked from the city centre simply seeking calm & welcome. If someone was deliberately disruptive, that would be different, but it was clear we were travellers. In that context a little empathy & gentleness would have gone a long way. Instead of using the mic when we were the only ones there, a quiet word explaining ground rules would have felt so much warmer. We did not expect red-carpet treatment, only to be treated normally without being made to feel out of place. A masjid should never make anyone feel excluded, yet here we felt as though we did not meet the “standard.”
As a father I had hoped this visit would inspire my children. During the summer holidays we visited museums, galleries & walked past churches, all welcoming. I wanted my children to take pride in their own tradition as well, but instead they left with a negative experience. In a city rich with Christian heritage, I had hoped they would also take something uplifting from an Islamic space. A single cold encounter can echo in young hearts for years, shaping how they view the masjid & even their faith. I pray this is not the case for my children.
Normally, when travelling, I greet the imam & ask for his dua. This time the atmosphere was so rigid we did not feel he was approachable. I do not mind if he had concerns, but a quiet word would have been more appropriate than a public announcement. Even Allah grants ease to the traveller, & the Prophet ﷺ welcomed travellers & even those who erred in the masjid with patience & wisdom. That example should guide us.
At one point, while we sat quietly taking a photo of the dome & the mihrab, the imam signalled to us not to. We accepted, but it felt unnecessarily cold, especially as there was no one else in the room except us & him. Oxford is full of Christian heritage & beautiful architecture , & this mosque is a rare Islamic contribution blending both traditions. That should be celebrated, not hidden away.
There was, however, light in this visit. Alhamdulillah, the security guard was kind & welcoming, & for that I am grateful. I also respect the imam, & would have preferred to raise my concerns directly, but the atmosphere made this too awkward. I share this not in anger, but sincerely, in the hope it is received in the right spirit.
The masjid should be the most inclusive & welcoming space in society, a sanctuary not a place that makes people feel excluded. I ask Allah to raise my children as leaders of tomorrow who follow the example of the Prophet ﷺ. I also pray for the imam & the community, that Allah blesses them with wisdom, mercy & the ability to inspire hearts. It remains one of the coldest & most negative experiences I have had in a masjid. At the end of the day, people visit mosques for the sake of Allah.
