يقظة
The Fajr alarm for those who are trying,
and who cannot bear another morning of missing it.
You know how this
morning ends.
It is a summer night in the north. Isha comes late — after eleven, sometimes past midnight. You pray it, and by the time you're in bed, half the night is gone.
Fajr will call at 3:55. You set three alarms. You put the phone across the room.
And then, in the fog of four hours' sleep, your body will find its way back to bed. The alarm will lose. It always does.
This app is written for that specific defeat.
A puzzle you can solve
is a puzzle you will cheat.
You have used the apps. Alarmy. Muslim Pro. The default iPhone alarm. Somewhere, at some point, you defeated all of them. Not because you wanted to — because in the half-conscious minute at 3:47 AM, the fastest path is the one your body takes.
You take the phone to bed.
The first alarm made you walk to the desk. Every alarm after that plays with the phone under your pillow. You dismissed each one lying down.
You solve the puzzle in bed.
Photo scan, math, memory, shake-to-stop — none of them require you to leave the mattress. The threshold to defeat is lower than the threshold to rise.
You do not read the verse.
Some apps show a Quranic ayah while you dismiss. You are not reading it. You are looking for the button. Motivation does not survive four hours of sleep.
No one is watching.
A prayer meant to be witnessed becomes a private failure. Nothing external forces the moment. Nothing internal has strength left.
The alarm dismisses forever.
One tap and it is gone. There is no cooldown. There is no consequence. Your future self is not defended against your present self.
You forget by 8 AM.
Whether or not you prayed on time will never be surfaced again. There is no tally. There is no direction to change.
Yaqzah is designed on one principle: the alarm must be harder to defeat than the salah is to pray.
Three principles.
Nothing decorative.
The alarm meets you at your Fajr — not the phone's.
You choose to wake at Fajr, or ten minutes before for sunnah, or thirty for tahajjud. Yaqzah computes today's Fajr from your location, adjusts every night, and never asks you to reset. When your madhab has an opinion on Fajr's precise moment, Yaqzah respects it.
The dismiss requires the body, not the finger.
The alarm cannot be silenced by a tap, a swipe, a shake, or a photo of your desk lamp. Yaqzah asks for a specific object at a specific location — one you set the night before, far from bed. And even after you reach it, a ninety-second cooldown keeps the room ringing so returning to bed is louder than staying up.
The record is kept, so the direction can change.
After you rise, Yaqzah quietly asks whether you prayed on time. The answer, kept only for you, becomes a record — nights caught, nights missed, streaks held, seasons endured. Once you trust the alarm, you may pledge sadaqah against future missed Fajrs. That is your decision to make, never a default.
You should not be doing this
alone.
Yaqzah begins as an alarm you can trust when the room is empty. Over the year that follows, it becomes something larger: an ummah keeping each other awake.
Solo
فرديThe alarm on its own. You test the mechanic on your own Fajrs, on your own body. Streak grows. Sadaqah pledge, once trusted, becomes the first internal contract.
Buddy
أخيA single accountability partner — a brother, a sister, a spouse. If you dismiss without praying, they see it. If they miss, you see it. A quiet mutual guarantee, no shame.
Ummah
أمةA living network. When your Fajr rings, a Muslim somewhere in the world is at noon, and can tap once to make your alarm louder. Fajr in Toronto is dhuhr in Karachi. Nobody wakes alone.
“The most beloved of deeds to Allah are those that are consistent, even if they are small.”
When Yaqzah is ready,
we will write to you.
No launch spam. No countdown timers. One quiet email when TestFlight opens, and one more when the App Store version ships. Nothing else.