In the early 1990s, as civil war devastated Somalia, leading to waves of refugees began arriving in the United States. Maryland became one of their destinations, especially Lanham and the nearby neighborhoods of Prince George’s County. There, affordable housing and existing Muslim networks provided a fragile but genuine lifeline.
At first, Somali families felt like strangers even within the Muslim community. They spoke Somali, not Arabic or Urdu. Their food, clothing, and customs were different. Many carried trauma from the war, memories of lost relatives, nights in refugee camps, and the disorienting leap from Mogadishu’s chaos to Maryland’s quiet suburbs.
It was PGMA that opened its doors. Families arrived in borrowed cars, carrying small children in their arms. They found not only a place to pray, but a community that tried to welcome them. The masjid basement filled with Somali mothers spreading mats for their toddlers, while young men clustered near the entrance, searching for work leads and help navigating America’s systems.
Language was a barrier, but faith was a bridge. Prayers united them. Iftars in Ramadan became cultural exchanges, jollof rice and sambusas placed alongside biryani and molokhia. Slowly, friendships grew. Pakistani and Egyptian families offered rides, tutoring for children, and help with paperwork. Somali youth, quick to pick up English, started to act as translators for their parents.
One elder later recalled: “We came with nothing but our faith, and PGMA gave us a place to breathe.”
Over the years, the Somali presence reshaped PGMA. Friday prayers filled with new accents and rhythms. Qur’an competitions featured Somali children who excelled in memorization. Youth groups became multilingual, bridging African and South Asian experiences.
The Somali families of Lanham not only found refuge; they enriched Maryland’s Muslim tapestry with resilience, hospitality, and a renewed spirit of community. Their story is a reminder that mosques are not just built from bricks and donations, they are built from the courage of those who enter them seeking belonging.