RIYADH: Each year, millions of Muslims from all over the world arrive in Makkah for Hajj — united in faith, but sometimes divided by language.
From Turkish and Urdu to Swahili and Bahasa, the diversity of languages in the holy cities is vast. For many, overcoming language barriers while navigating the logistics of Hajj can be overwhelming.
That is where young Saudi volunteers step in to translate and ease some of the challenges pilgrims face.
“We speak different languages, but we’re all here for the same reason,” said Deema Ibrahim, 21.
Ibrahim’s experience volunteering as a translator began with a change of plans. “I initially joined a team for emergency medical services,” she said. “But when we arrived, we found that the ambulance units were already full. So we were redirected to work in the road guidance division.”
Her unit was based near a hotel that housed non-Arabic-speaking pilgrims. As one of the few bilingual members of her team, Ibrahim’s role became essential.
“I also assisted deaf and mute pilgrims through remote video calls,” she said. “That allowed me to support a wider group of people who would otherwise be left struggling.”
One of the most emotional moments she experienced was helping an elderly woman who had become separated from her family. “She didn’t remember much and couldn’t communicate clearly.
“We eventually found a card with her camp name, called them, and her daughters came running. They didn’t expect to find her again. It was a moment I’ll never forget.
“I did it for the reward — and for the duas.”
Saad Al-Harbi, 23, was encouraged by a friend to volunteer.
“He said, ‘You speak good English, you live in Makkah, and you’re available — why not help as a group guide and translator?’” he recalled.
Most of the questions from pilgrims were about directions. “They’d ask how to get to Arafat, or where to perform the stoning, or how to navigate from one site to another.”
But what stayed with him most was the gratitude. “On the last day of Hajj, almost everyone in our group came up to thank me. They told me my help made a difference. That meant everything.”
Maha Al-Ahmari, 24, who speaks fluent Turkish, assisted several elderly Turkish origin or Turkish-speaking pilgrims who were part of a group of North African pilgrims in Muzdalifah.
“Many of them were completely disoriented and couldn’t communicate with security or their own groups,” she said.
“Just being able to speak their language calmed them instantly. One woman kissed my hand in thanks — I’ll never forget that.”
The Kingdom’s efforts to enhance services for pilgrims include multilingual signage, smart apps with translation features, and trained staff in key areas. Still, human contact is at the heart of everything guides do — especially when emotions run high.
Ibrahim said that some of the most difficult cases involved older pilgrims who were confused, hard of hearing, or dealing with memory loss.
“The pressure increases during the days of Nafr,” she said. “People get lost easily. And when they can’t speak Arabic or English, the stress becomes dangerous.”
She credits the government’s organization — from surveillance centers to camp identification systems — for helping volunteers like her stay effective. “We had support, but the human side of it — calming someone, assuring them — that was on us.”
Faris Al-Turki, 28, who volunteered in Mina, said he used Google Translate in real time to assist a pilgrim from Central Asia. “It wasn’t perfect, but it helped. He was trying to find his medication and explain a health condition. We figured it out.”
For many volunteers, the act of translation is an act of worship. It’s a way to serve the guests of Allah — a role that holds deep spiritual meaning in Saudi culture.
“You’re not just translating words,” Al-Harbi said. “You’re translating emotion. You’re showing them that they’re not alone.”
Ibrahim agreed. “It was exhausting, physically and mentally, but it was the most fulfilling thing I’ve ever done. Despite our different languages, we were all in the same sacred space, for the same reason. That unity — you feel it.”
In the end, most volunteers do not seek recognition. They often work behind the scenes, in the heat, in the chaos, among strangers.
But for the pilgrims who meet them — the ones who are lost, confused, scared — their presence is unforgettable. A calm voice. A familiar phrase. A gesture of patience.
And when the pilgrims return home, they may not remember every building or landmark, but they will remember that young Saudi who stepped forward, understood their words, and made them feel seen.
