Women's Access To Mosques: Questioning the Dearth of Gender-Neutral Spaces

As dusk settles during Ramadan, the streets around mosques glow with strings of lights, the air thick with the scent of food and the urgency of people preparing for iftar. Markets swell, prayers echo, and communities gather to mark one of the most sacred months in Islam. From dawn (Fajr) to sunset (Maghrib), Muslims fast, turning the month into a time of reflection and collective devotion. Yet beyond the visible celebration lies a quieter, less photographed reality, the labour that sustains Ramadan inside homes. Long before the streets come alive, many women are already planning and preparing the suhoor meal during the night so it can be eaten in the early hours of the morning. Through the day, while fasting themselves, they continue the unending rhythm of household work that makes the evening meal possible.

Ramadan, therefore, is not only a spiritual journey but also a test of endurance shaped by gendered roles within the home. While men often step out to break their fast in mosques and community gatherings, many women remain behind, serving the meal and breaking their fast within domestic spaces. Some mosques in Delhi have been hosting large iftar evenings where families and young people come together, offering glimpses of a more inclusive Ramadan experience.

In Delhi, when people talk about mass gatherings during iftar evenings, the first place that comes to many people’s minds is Jama Masjid. Though it carries a long history from the time of Shah Jahan, today the mosque has also become a space where people from different communities come seeking a moment of relief. When it comes to iftar, the space inside the mosque in front of the main prayer hall and the large central dome fills with children, youngsters, and many families. People spread long clothes on the floor and sit together, watching the sunset. As the sky changes colour, everyone waits for the sound of the Adhan to break their fast. Somehow, people find this place joyful, a moment of togetherness and community gathering. A similar reality can also be seen at Fatehpuri Masjid during iftar evenings.

Among them is Rihana, a resident of Delhi, who shared her experience with Outlook. “Coming to this mosque sometimes feels more relaxing than staying at home. As a housewife, I rarely find time to escape from my routine. But when we come here, we feel like we can breathe more freely. Sitting in this open place, seeing so many faces, and hearing laughter around me gives me energy. I don’t come often, maybe once a week or once a month, but whenever I come here, I feel more relaxed,” she said, holding her son’s hand tightly while sharing her feelings with hesitation.

During Ramadan, household work often becomes a greater burden for women, leaving them with little time to step away from their daily routine. Men in the family usually go to the mosque every evening for iftar, where they get the opportunity to spend time with peers and elders and build community connections. In contrast, women often remain at home managing domestic responsibilities. Even when their families allow them to visit mosques, many mosques do not provide separate spaces for women, which further limits their participation in these communal gatherings.

When discussions about inclusivity in mosques arise, many people question why women are not able to enter or participate in the same way as men. In many modern mosque buildings, separate prayer spaces for women are often not included. As a result, instead of being welcomed, women are sometimes discouraged or even restricted from attending mosques. However, historical evidence tells a different story. Although women-only mosques were rare, many historic mosques across the Indian subcontinent included designated sections for women worshippers. This exclusion becomes especially visible during Ramadan, a time when communal iftar gatherings take place in mosques. While men commonly break their fast in mosque courtyards and prayer halls, women are often expected to do so at home. Although a few mosques provide space for women’s daily prayers, these areas are usually limited or inaccessible. From the Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque in Delhi to the Taj-ul-Masajid in Bhopal, these spaces suggest that women’s participation in mosque prayers was once a regular practice. At the Quwwat-ul-Islam Mosque, for instance, a raised roof at the northern end of the prayer hall functioned as a women’s gallery. This secluded area could be accessed through a narrow staircase built within the wall, similar to the design seen in the Anda Masjid.

At the same time, this situation also reflects a deeper stereotype: why are women expected to remain at home for prayer? Why can’t they step outside for their daily prayers? The difference becomes more visible during iftar evenings, when men often occupy most of the mosque spaces while women are less present. In many instances, serving food to men is treated as the first priority, with women coming second. These dynamics are rarely acknowledged openly, yet they quietly shape social attitudes and behaviour. Over time, such practices become normalised and gradually embed themselves in people’s thinking.

In another instance, a young woman named Noor said that regularly visiting the masjid can sometimes feel like a burden for women. She explained, “If I go to the masjid, I have to travel from one place to another. We also have the responsibility of bringing our children and other family members with us. Because of this, I often prefer to stay at home for iftar, as it is easier.” She further added that although Jama Masjid has now become a tourist place, people from every religion can come and visit the mosque without restrictions. “They also have the freedom to break their fast here and join us during the days of roza,” she said. “Even though I don’t come here often, whenever I visit Jama Masjid, I feel a strong sense of belonging. My inner thoughts tell me that this is my place and that I belong here. That feeling of comfort brings me back sometimes.” Also, during Ramadan, many poor people can be seen having their meals at iftar evenings.

Sometimes, many women face the same issue that if a woman steps out for any work they can’t pray in an outside mosque like men. But, they have to rush to home or do the prayer later, this is also one of the key issues of lacking with women praying hall. Another resident of Delhi, Sahibha, said that mosques should create larger spaces to accommodate families. “If families come to the masjid, there should be enough space for them to enter and break their fast comfortably,” she explained. In the middle of the conversation, her husband added, “A few years ago, women were allowed to come inside the mosque and offer their prayers. Earlier, men would stand in the front and women would stand behind them to pray. But now, it has changed.”

As a woman from the Muslim community, I cannot participate in mass gatherings at mosques as something normal or accessible. When I stepped out to document the history of mosques in Delhi, I realised that I could not photograph the interiors of many of them. Because I am a woman, entry into the main prayer halls is restricted in most mosques, with only a few exceptions. In the course of documenting women’s presence in mosques, I have come across very few spaces that accommodate women.

Yet, historical examples complicate this present reality. An important example is the Jama Masjid of Champaner near Baroda, built in 1523, where the women’s enclosure is located within the main prayer hall itself. It was formed by screening off the northernmost mihrab (prayer niche) and was accessed through a separate entrance on the northern wall of the mosque. Similarly, the Adina Mosque, built in 1374–75 in Pandua, and the Taj-ul-Masajid in Bhopal, constructed under the patronage of Shahjehan Begum, also provided designated spaces for women.

These examples suggest that women’s participation in mosque spaces was not entirely absent in the past. The question, then, is not whether women belong in mosques, but why contemporary practices have narrowed what history once allowed. If architecture once made space for women, what prevents us from imagining and rebuilding that inclusion today?

India has over 200 million mosques which is one of the largest numbers of mosques globally, reflecting its significant Muslim population (second largest in the world). The discussion is not only about numbers but about access and participation. While India has a vast number of mosques and a large Muslim population, women’s presence in these spaces remains limited. Even though organizations like All India Muslim Personal Law Board (AIMPLB) have encouraged the inclusion of separate spaces for women in newly built mosques, the pace of change appears slow. The question is no longer whether women should have a place in mosques, but whether these recommendations are being implemented in practice. For many women, prayer continues to happen at home or in workplaces rather than in mosques, not always by choice but because access is restricted or unavailable.