A Two-Part Series
Editor’s Note: This piece is published in two parts for Black Maternal Health Week, observed April 11–17, under this year’s theme: Rooted in Justice and Joy. Part One is personal, five births, five lessons, one through-line of faith, and the navigation of a system not always built for us. Part Two moves outward, drawing on that testimony to address the theological and communal questions that Black maternal health raises for Muslim communities. Each part stands on its own, but they are designed to be read together: the personal opens the door, and the prophetic holds it open.
Part Two: Rooted in Justice and Joy
Part One traced five births as sites of negotiation, between body, belief, choice, and a healthcare system that ignores Black mothers’ needs. Giving birth in a hotel was not symbolic. It was practical. That distinction points beyond an individual story to the conditions shaping Black maternal experience in the United States.
Black maternal health is not only personal; it is communal and theological. For Muslims, it is also a matter of fiqh, how we understand and enact our obligations to one another.
Black women in the United States are three to four times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women. This disparity is not biological. It reflects a medical system that has historically discounted Black women’s pain, disregarded their knowledge, and reduced their bodies to data rather than honoring them as sacred.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ articulated a foundational ethical principle: “There is no harm and no reciprocating of harm.” This maxim demands scrutiny of any system that produces preventable suffering. Black maternal mortality is not an unfortunate statistic. It is harm, structural, racialized, and often preventable.
Within Muslim communities, responses to such disparities frequently emphasize individual piety: make du‘a, trust Allah, reduce stress. These responses hold value, but they are incomplete. Tawakkul is not passive. The well-known narration, “Tie your camel, then trust in Allah”, frames reliance as inseparable from action. In this context, tying the camel includes investing in Black midwifery, training doulas, engaging policy, and refusing silence in communal spaces about maternal harm.
The story of Hajar (peace be upon her) offers a theological frame for survival. Left in a barren valley with her infant son, she moved, running between Safa and Marwa in search of sustenance. Allah responded by bringing forth water. The sa‘i, reenacted during Hajj, commemorates not only divine provision but maternal striving. It is a ritualization of a mother’s labor.
Black mothers continue this striving, navigating systems, crossing boundaries, seeking care wherever it can be found. That movement is not desperation. It is disciplined faith.
This year’s Black Maternal Health Awareness theme Rooted in Justice and Joy names two intertwined commitments. Justice (‘adl) is central to the Qur’anic ethical vision: “Indeed, Allah commands justice and excellence” (An-Nahl 16:90). In maternal health, justice requires more than equal access; it demands transformation of care so that Black mothers are centered, believed, respected, and supported in their choices.
Joy (farha) is not ancillary. Qur’anic narratives of birth, such as the announcement of Yahya to Zakariyyah, frame new life as bushra, glad tidings. Birth is not only a risk; it is also a divine gift. For Black mothers, reclaiming joy in birth challenges systems that normalize fear, dismissal, and harm.
This conversation is not about homebirth versus hospital birth. It is about ensuring every mother has access to informed choices and respectful care, choices rooted in knowledge, community, and faith. We are a community shaped by the example of the Prophet ﷺ, who honored women’s knowledge, who sat with mothers and recognized their authority. We are also a community with a significant Black Muslim population whose experiences of race and health cannot be separated from their experiences of faith.
I gave birth in a hotel, and in that space I found peace, trust, and alignment, not because everything was perfect, but because the experience was fully mine. Every mother deserves that same sense of ownership, dignity, and care.
Rooted in justice. Rooted in joy. Rooted in the unshakeable knowledge that our lives, and the lives we bring into this world, matter to Allah, and must matter to every system, every community, and every Muslim institution that claims to serve us.
Black Maternal Health Week is observed annually from April 11–17. This series reflects Sapelo Square’s commitment to centering Black Muslim women’s voices, health, and spiritual well-being.
Majidah Muhammad is a childhood education expert and mompreneur who founded The Learning Cove, creating innovative learning tools like the Elevated Learning Binder and Color Chemistry with her oldest children, Haqq and Mali. She is now the mother of five and an advocate for Black Maternal Health.
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