I have just returned from a 12-day Umrah pilgrimage, a spiritual journey that, as always, was profoundly moving. This time, we brought our two grandchildren.
Yet, as someone who has been blessed to perform Umrah numerous times, I returned with a feeling that is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore: a deep frustration with the logistical reality of modern-day Makkah.
For the pilgrim, the equation is simple: you want to be as close to Masjidil Haram as possible. This proximity is not born of luxury, but of necessity. After long hours of prayer and tawaf, the ability to return to your hotel for a rest, a meal, or simply to escape the crowds is vital. For the elderly or those with limited mobility, it is non-negotiable.
This singular desire creates a cascading crisis. It concentrates millions of people within the narrow perimeter surrounding the Grand Mosque. While authorities have built new roads to improve traffic flow on the macro level, the micro-reality in the hotel districts remains a nightmare of gridlocked vehicles, honking horns, and pedestrians weaving through stationary traffic. It is a stressful cacophony in what should be a serene spiritual environment.
The root of the problem is the lack of a reliable, high-capacity public transport spine. Buses are the current workhorses, but they are also part of the problem, adding to congestion and pollution. The periphery of Makkah is developing rapidly, but it remains disconnected because commuting from there is a gamble against unpredictable traffic.
The solution, I believe, is not just more roads or more buses. It is a Light Rail Transit (LRT) system for Makkah.
Imagine a modern, efficient rail network acting as the city’s circulatory system. Main lines would radiate out from the Haram, tunnelling beneath the central zone and rising above ground to connect burgeoning suburbs and districts further afield. Strategically placed park-and-ride stations on the city’s edge would allow pilgrims arriving by car or intercity bus to leave their vehicles behind and complete their journey seamlessly by rail.
The benefits would be transformative. First, it would decentralise the pilgrim population. The current real estate market is distorted by the “proximity premium”. Hotels a 15-minute walk away command astronomical prices, while those a 20-minute drive away are often shunned. An efficient LRT would redefine proximity.
A hotel 15 minutes away by train becomes a viable and attractive option. This would relieve the suffocating pressure on the central hotel zone, potentially cooling the overheated hotel market and making accommodation more affordable for the average pilgrim.
Second, it would drastically reduce surface congestion. By moving masses of people underground or onto elevated tracks, thousands of buses and cars could be removed from the roads around the Haram. This would free up space for essential services, ambulances, and local traffic, creating a calmer, safer, and more dignified environment for pedestrians.
Third, it is an environmentally sound investment. As a city that welcomes millions of visitors annually, Makkah has a considerable carbon footprint. A shift from a bus-dominated transport model to an electric rail system would be a giant leap towards a greener, more sustainable pilgrimage, aligning with the Kingdom’s Vision 2030 goals.
This is not a futuristic fantasy. Cities around the world, from Singapore to Dubai, have used LRT to solve similar urban density and mobility challenges. Makkah, with its unique cyclical population surges, is an even more compelling candidate. The spirit of Islam encourages the pursuit of knowledge and improvement in all aspects of life. Improving facilities for the guests of Allah is a form of worship in itself.
Building an LRT is a monumental undertaking, but so was the expansion of the Haram itself. It is an investment in the comfort of pilgrims, the efficiency of the city, and the preservation of the sacred experience.
We have the technology and the resources. Now, we need the vision to lift our eyes from the congested streets and imagine a Makkah where the journey to the House of God is as peaceful as the prayer itself.
The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the writer and do not represent that of Twentytwo13.