A double duty
Muslim police officers fast for Ramadan with accommodations from HPD
Houston police officer Danish Hussain still remembers the chase, years later: sprinting after a robbery suspect through an apartment complex on the west side of town, in the sticky heat of summer.
As his fellow officers gulped water afterward, Hussain walked into a gas station and asked the cashier if he could stand in the freezer. The Muslim officer was fasting for the holy month of Ramadan.
“I can’t drink (water). I can’t do nothing,” he said. “I was really hot and sweating. So I had to go sit in a cooler for about like 15 to 20 minutes to calm down.”
Hussain, 38, is one of a small but growing number of Muslims at the Houston Police Department. For Hussain and other officers, the tenets of Islam don’t bend just because the weather is hot. During Ramadan, which ends this year on May 12, Muslims worldwide fast from sunrise to sunset, forgoing food, water — and even chewing gum.
As its workforce has diversified, HPD has modified policies to accommodate officers’ religious beliefs and sexual orientation — such as by allowing officers to march in uniform in gay
pride parades.
In 2017, former Chief Art Acevedo relaxed uniform rules to allow tattooed officers to wear shortsleeved uniforms, exposing their tattoos. After the death of Harris County Sheriff ’s Deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal, the department also rolled out policies to allow future Sikh officers to wear turbans and other articles of faith while on duty. In 2019, HPD changed policies to allow officers to grow facial hair.
A monthlong fast
During the month of Ramadan, observant Muslims who are able must fast daily. They gather at sunset with relatives and friends for the iftar, the meal used to break their fast. Muslims also attend mosques for evening Ramadan prayers.
Last month, newly appointed Chief Troy Finner sent an email to commanders reminding them of Islam’s fasting requirements and authorized supervisors or dispatchers to allow officers or employees to call out after sunset to break fast or to attend prayer services, if there were no emergencies or priority calls.
Hussain and other current and former officers estimate that between 35 and 50 Muslim officers work at HPD. That mirrors a trend across the United States as departments see increases in the number of Muslim officers. NYPD counts some 900 Muslim officers among its ranks.
Earlier this year, the New Jersey city of Paterson hired its first Muslim police chief, Ibrahim “Mike” Baycora. Baycora, the city’s 17th chief, has served with the department for more than three decades.
In Houston, the department recently promoted a Muslim officer, Yasar Bashir, to the rank of assistant chief.
When Bashir joined the department in 2001, his training academy occurred during Ramadan. He woke up around 4:45 a.m. to eat a traditional predawn meal called suhoor but often found he wasn’t hungry because it was so early. Then he’d drive to the training academy to perform physical
training with fellow cadets such as running drills or working on defensive tactics.
“Thirst is what is super challenging,” he recalled.
His first patrol assignment took place in west Houston, at one of the department's busiest stations. Those early days were so hectic and tiring that he didn’t fast, he said. He resumed the practice after promoting to sergeant.
“When you’re young, you may not be practicing,” he said. “But as you get older, you settle in, then you start finding your religion, you will start practicing more because now you have family, you have kids.”
‘Thanksgiving every day’
Now, he looks forward to it. The first couple of weeks are always challenging, but then his body falls into a comfortable rhythm. He feels more alert. It always helps him shed a few pounds.
“You can taste everything,” he said. “Everything tastes a lot better.”
His children are also fasting, and every meal feels special.
“You know, waking up as a family early in the morning is like ...
it’s like having Thanksgiving every day,” he said.
The changes reflect Muslim Americans’ growing civic participation involvement in “all levels of society,” said Ibrahim Hooper, spokesman for the Council on American-Islamic Relations, the largest Muslim civil liberties organization in the United States.
“Law enforcement is one aspect of being a contributing citizen,” he said.
On Monday, Hussain strode into southwest Houston’s Madrasah Islamiah - Masjid on Bintliff Drive to pray. He removed his shoes and walked into the prayer hall.
As the clock struck 2 p.m. on the 22nd day of Ramadan, the imam gave the call to worship. Scores of men trickled into the hall, arraying themselves in long rows on teal carpet. They bowed, kneeled and prostrated themselves, then rose in silent unison as fans creaked overhead.
Hussain, a Pakistani American from Fort Bend County, immigrated to the U.S. when he was 16. He joined HPD in 2008 after approaching a recruiter to learn about the department. The recruiter handed him paperwork, which he began filling out — only
to realize midway through it was a job application.
He spent years working as a crime analyst and recently took over as the department’s Muslim community liaison. But he has always fasted during Ramadan, whether on patrol or in his other assignments.
In his dark police uniform, Hussain stood out in the expanse of worshippers, many dressed in kameez shalwar, the long tunics traditionally worn in South and Central Asia.
The prayer ended a few minutes later, and Hussain walked out into the sunny afternoon to visit residents of a nearby apartment complex.
He ignored his dry mouth. He’d woken up late by mistake, after sunrise — too late to eat or drink anything. After 14 hours without water, he was looking forward to breaking his fast, but he had six more hours until sunset. He walked through an apartment complex next to the Masjid, greeting several residents along the way.
“It’s going to be a little difficult,” he said, grinning in the heat.
Still, he generally doesn’t mind the fasting. It helps sharpen the mind.
“You feel good,” he said. The hunger and discipline reminds him to be grateful for the meal at day’s end — and that for many people living in poverty, hunger is an everyday fact of life.
‘Things are different now’
Muzzafar Siddiqui spent more than 20 years at the department. Another immigrant from Pakistan, he had served in his native country’s Sindh Police, a national police force. But after his time in the Pakistani police force — which he said was rife with corruption and where police served politicians’ whims instead of the law — he had little interest in joining another police department in the U.S.
A recruiter in Houston convinced him otherwise, and he joined HPD in 1997 and retired in December.
When he joined, he was one of the first Muslim police officers at the department, and there was little awareness of Ramadan or its requirements, he said.
“They didn’t give any break,” he said. “Nothing. Things are different now.”
As HPD’s first Muslim community liaison, he said he often emailed division commanders before the holy month warning them not to be alarmed if officers spotted more activity at mosques or received concerned calls from citizens about late night gatherings.
Now, he said the department and its leadership are more aware about the holiday.
“It’s very, very good,” he said. On Monday night, Hussain and his wife, four sons and other relatives gathered at his Richmond home. Finally, the clock ticked past 8 p.m. It had been 22 hours since he’d had a sip of water or anything to eat.
He motioned everyone to the dining room. The table was piled high with baked chicken, succulent dates, fruit salads, a meatless biryani and other dishes.
They would pray again after the meal. But now it was time to break the fast.
He picked up a date — the same fruit the prophet Muhammad ate — and took a bite.