"Buried Dreams, Unbroken Will: It’s Time to Unite"

This is more than just a rusted train. It’s the Hejaz Railway, a lifeline that once carried the dream of unity across the Muslim world. Initiated in 1900 by Sultan Abdulhamid II, this railway was built with more than just iron—it was built with faith, sacrifice, and hope. The project cost around £4 million pounds at the time (equivalent to nearly £500–600 million today), but its true value was priceless. It was a symbol of connection, linking Istanbul to the holy cities of Mecca and Medina, a dream of a united Ummah.

Donations poured in from every corner of the Muslim world:

🥊35% came from the Ottoman Empire, led by Sultan Abdulhamid II, who personally contributed, alongside merchants, scholars, and even the military, which provided labor.

🥊20% from India, where princes and ordinary Muslims alike gave generously, despite British rule, driven by their deep spiritual connection to the holy cities.

🥊15% from Egypt, where the revered scholars of Al-Azhar rallied the faithful to donate, believing this railway would strengthen the ties of the Ummah.

🥊10% from Bilad al-Sham (modern-day Syria, Palestine, Lebanon, and Jordan), where the people of Damascus, Jerusalem, and Beirut saw the railway as a vital link to the holy lands.

🥊10% from North Africa—where Muslims in Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco gave, not just to ease their pilgrimage but to be part of something larger, uniting the Muslim world.

🥊5% from Central Asia, where Muslims under Russian rule sent donations, despite their hardships, to show their solidarity.

🥊5% from Arabia, Yemen, and Sudan, where, though less prosperous, people contributed as a testament to their faith.

🥊5% from the Balkans and Southeast Asia (Bosnia, Malaysia, Indonesia), showing the global reach of the railway and its unifying purpose.

But it wasn’t just about the money. Thousands of laborers worked for free under the harsh desert sun—men driven not by wages, but by faith and their belief in the unity of the Ummah. These tracks were laid by hands that believed in something greater than themselves, something that would outlast them—a connection of hearts and souls, not just lands.

Yet, today, the Hejaz Railway stands silent, rusting under the weight of forgotten dreams. It’s a reminder of what was lost when borders were drawn and unity was left behind. But it also stands as a testament to what can still be rebuilt. The vision of Sultan Abdulhamid II was not just for a railway—it was for a unified Ummah, connected by faith and purpose.

The train may be silent, but its message still echoes. The journey is not over. We have the power to revive this dream, to reconnect our hearts, to let the wheels of unity turn once more. Together, we can make this dream live again."