In my last reflection, I spoke about Dakar, Senegal — a city pulsing with ambition, rhythm and resilience. It’s where Africa’s coastal heartbeat meets modern aspiration. The call of the muezzin (the one who calls Muslims to prayer) echoes through high-rises, fishermen cast their nets beside luxury yachts, and the streets hum with art, music, and enterprise. Dakar’s skyline tells a story of possibility — where tradition and innovation share the same ocean breeze. For many, its energy is magnetic, its creativity contagious.
Yet, just a few hours away lies its quieter counterpart, Medina Baye — where the cost of living does something Dakar does not do as excellently as Medina Baye: it restores the soul.
I once lived in Brooklyn, East New York, in the 1980s — a time and place where the cost of living could cost you your life. Survival was the daily rent, and hope was often mortgaged to violence. Here in Medina Baye, the cost of living is restored.
When I first came to Senegal in the late ’80s and settled in Kaolack, in the blessed quarter of Medina Baye, life moved more slowly, and its value ran deeper. The cost of living was far lower than it is today. Back then, you could find a modest home for a fraction of what one would pay now, though I was still under the care of the late renowned scholar and humanitarian Shaykh Hassan Aliou Cissé (May Allah be pleased with him), whose guidance shaped generations. Learn more about him here at the African American Islamic Institute.
At that time, I didn’t have the burden of bills; my parents covered my tuition and expenses. I couldn’t fully appreciate the difference in living costs back then, but I could feel the difference in spirit.
Even then, the true investment in Medina Baye wasn’t financial, it was spiritual. The return wasn’t measured in CFA or rent but in dividends of the soul. Imagine paying $10,000 a month for a penthouse overlooking the Hudson, its skyline shimmering behind glass, and yet still missing the quiet between your breaths. In Medina Baye, that same breath comes free — perfumed by incense, shaded by neem trees, synchronized with the call to prayer.
A few hours from Dakar, the road narrows into the Kaolack region. The air shifts — it tastes of charcoal, earth and oud, laced with hand-rolled incense that feels almost heavenly. It’s a heat that humbles, a stillness that slows you down. Medina Baye doesn’t compete with Dakar’s neon lights or crowded boulevards. It invites you to exhale. Here, children recite Qur’an beneath tamarind and baobab trees, and dhikr (the rhythmic remembrance of God) drifts through courtyard archways as life moves at the pace of devotion.
The material costs here tell one story, but the spiritual rewards tell another. Today, rent for a simple apartment might range between 50,000 and 100,000 CFA (about $80–$160 USD). A bag of rice to feed a family for weeks costs around 25,000 CFA. A fresh fish meal at a local shop runs about 1,500 CFA — $2. A motorbike ride across town? Spare change. People spend less to survive, yet somehow live more.
Medina Baye, founded by Shaykh Ibrahim Niasse (RA), Shaykh Hassan Cissé’s grandfather, is more than a neighborhood; it’s a living philosophy. True wealth is measured not in possessions but in proximity to God. Generosity is the currency. If your neighbor eats, you eat. If a stranger arrives, a door opens. And when the adhan (call to prayer) sounds — that melodic “Hayya ‘ala-s-salah, hayya ‘ala-l-falah” (Come to prayer, come to success) rising into the air — the whole town seems to inhale gratitude and exhale peace.
Compared to Dakar, where rents climb, imported goods inflate prices, and convenience often replaces community, Medina Baye feels like a return to balance. There’s baraka (blessings) in the air, a kind of divine abundance that multiplies joy from little, stretches moments that should vanish and fills the heart with more than the hand can hold.
Yet even paradise evolves. Not far from the Grand Masjid now stands Medina Baye Residences, a thoughtful bridge between worlds. Don’t let the word residences fool you: this is where the desert meets design, where devotion meets development. When I first heard a luxury hotel was coming to Medina Baye, my heart questioned — would comfort dull the sacred edge? In the late ’80s, arriving here meant leaving behind conveniences by choice. You came to shed distraction — no air-conditioning, no WiFi, no polished ease. And yet you left enriched, transformed, spiritually awake.
A few years ago, I was blessed to tour Medina Baye Residences with one of its founders, Taqiy, as construction neared completion. His vision was clear: to honor the sacred character of Medina Baye while opening doors for a new generation who travel with both purpose and expectation. This balance of luxury and warm service accomplishes that beautifully. The property offers 22 spacious, elegantly designed units with full kitchens and modern fixtures. Three penthouse suites feature two bedrooms, two baths, garden tubs and panoramic balconies. Every room includes air conditioning, ultra-fast Wi-Fi, streaming TV and daily housekeeping.
The wellness amenities are remarkable — a salt-water pool, steam room, sauna and full-service spa with alternating access for men and women. Guests can book massages, hair and nail care, or private treatments with 24-hour notice. A rooftop restaurant serves fresh local produce, and a juice café emphasizes health-conscious dining. For travelers seeking more than rest, curated spiritual immersion experiences pair visitors with local scholars, rural excursions and workspace options for those blending business with baraka (blessing).
Local homes, too, have evolved. Many now include air conditioning, Wi-Fi, and modern kitchens. So it makes sense that a vision like Medina Baye Residences would emerge — offering comfort without compromise. Thankfully, you don’t have to choose one world over the other. You can be a guest in one of the Shaykh’s well-accommodated homes and still visit the Residences for their spa or café. Or you can stay at the Residences and walk a short distance into the heart of Medina to share ataya tea, laughter and wisdom with a host family.
In those homes, the experiences are rich: the warmth of shared meals, the rhythm of Qur’an recitation from a nearby daara (Qur’an school for children), and the kind of hospitality that humbles hotels. You learn that wealth isn’t what you hold, but what you give — and that even a visitor can experience both worlds: the comfort of luxury and the richness of sincerity. Medina Baye teaches that balance — that you can enjoy modern ease without losing spiritual depth.
As evening falls, the sun melts behind the towering baobab trees — ancient sentinels holding the sky. The sand turns gold, children chase a ball across it, elders pour tea in rhythm, and the chant “La ilaha illallah” drifts through the streets like wind through wheat. There’s no rush here. Time bends, not breaks.
In Medina Baye, you face an older truth: a simple life rooted in faith yields a kind of wealth the modern world no longer knows how to count. And when you are constantly counting the cost of living, it’s places like Medina Baye that make you stop calculating — and start giving thanks for the priceless experience of being alive.
