On 7th September, twelve of us stood at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro, looking up at the highest free-standing mountain in the world. Five days later, most of us would stand at Uhuru Peak, 5,895m above sea level, at the very roof of Africa.

Between those two points lay a journey that tested every limit — physical, mental, and spiritual. A journey where lungs breathed thin, where sleep was scarce, and where the cold cut through bone. And yet, every step we took was fuelled by something greater: raising urgent funds for families in Gaza and Syria.

"Climbing Kilimanjaro has been the toughest thing I've ever attempted, both physically and mentally, but it was nothing compared to what families in Gaza and Syria face every single day."

Daniel Hollyman, AFH Team

The Team

We were twelve: Muaz (our leader), Inam, Mehvish, Safiya, Yasmine, Vaseema, Annsa, Asafa, Nadeem, Tuhid, Umme, and myself. Each of us came with different strengths and motivations, but together we became more than a group of hikers; we became a family.

Not everyone reached Uhuru Peak, but everyone achieved something extraordinary. Each step was a victory over fatigue, altitude, and doubt. Some pushed on to the summit, others listened to their bodies and honoured their limits, but all of us walked away stronger, with lessons and memories that will last a lifetime.

Muaz, our group leader, put it beautifully afterwards:

“On Kilimanjaro, I didn’t ask anyone to reach the summit, only to give their absolute limit. And that’s exactly what you did. The unity amongst you was profound, so much support, no arguments, only positivity.”

There were so many moments of quiet resilience. Mehvish nearly turned back on day one, yet pushed all the way to Kibo Hut. Yasmeen struggled in the early stages, then stormed through the toughest days. Vaseema, despite her own exhaustion, stayed by Safiya’s side, lifting her when she thought she couldn’t go on. Each story showed how this climb wasn’t just about individual strength, but about the power of unity.

And we were never alone. Ramadan, our expert guide, and his phenomenal team of porters carried, cooked, encouraged, and danced us into courage. Their support was the heartbeat of our climb.

The Journey

We climbed via the Marangu Route, locally known as the ‘Coca-Cola Route.’ It offered dormitory-style huts rather than tents, but don't be fooled: the short timeframe made acclimatisation brutally hard, with the added challenge of ascending almost 1,000 metres every day, which takes its toll. 

• Day 1: We left the rainforest behind to reach Mandara Hut, full of energy and optimism.

• Day 2: The trail grew steeper and thinner as we climbed towards Horombo Hut, surrounded by open moorland.

• Day 3: Acclimatisation at Zebra Rocks. At this point, Muaz asked us to share why we were climbing. Each story, personal growth, family, faith, and chosen causes reminded us that you need a strong reason to keep going when the mountain feels impossible.

• Day 4: Across the dust-filled Saddle to Kibo Hut. Breathless, tired, and nervous, we prepared for summit night.

• Day 5: At midnight, we set off into the darkness. The cold cut deep, the altitude slowed every step, and doubts crept in. At Gilman's Point, the sun rose over the horizon and lit up the sky. There, on the mountainside, Muaz led Fajr prayer. In that moment, I felt the stillness of the dawn, and many in the group felt the will of Allah carrying them through. Finally, we reached Uhuru Peak: 5,895m, the highest point in Africa. Exhausted and overwhelmed, we had done it, Alhamdulillah.

That night alone involved nearly 20 hours of trekking, with only three hours of sleep. It pushed every one of us to our limit.

 "Nothing prepares you for summit night. Fifteen hours of climbing, in freezing darkness, the hardest day of my life. Only Allah's strength got us through."

Umme Kulsum Akberali

More Than a Mountain

Climbing Kilimanjaro was, and still seems, like a mad endeavour. At times, I thought, 'Why am I doing this when I could be home enjoying my day?' But it is often said that happiness lies on the other side of doing difficult things. And the mountain gave something back - perspective, spiritual strength, and more profound gratitude for the people I love. 

During the hike, I was reading John Muir’s My First Summer in the Sierra, where he writes a line now embedded in my mind, ‘We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.” Simply beautiful.

And yet, the real reason we climbed was never just the summit.

Some of us climbed for Gaza. Others for Syria. Both groups face daily hardships that make summit night seem like a stroll. In Gaza, entire neighbourhoods have been destroyed, families bombed and starved, and children forced to drink dirty water because it's the only water available. In Syria, over a decade of war has left behind destruction and displacement, with millions still struggling to rebuild their lives.

That's why we joined this challenge with Action For Humanity. Every pound raised provides urgent, lifesaving support: food, clean water, emergency shelter, and medical care. Together, we've already raised thousands for Gaza and Syria, and we're just getting started.

"Every step we took was for families in Gaza and Syria. For the children trying to sleep through hunger, for the mothers searching for bread, for the fathers carrying water through rubble."

Vaseema Hussain

👉 Find out more about our Syria Emergency Appeal >>

👉 Find out more about our Gaza Emergency Appeal >>