We are a vibrant and friendly community and we love our home city and country. Here are some talks and profiles about some Baha'i's related to Scotland.


Ruhiyyih Khanum

Born Mary Maxwell, her father was of Scottish heritage. Raised in Montreal, Canada. She married the Guardian of the Baha'i Faith Shoghi Effendi. She passed to the next realm in January 2000.


Allan Forsyth

 Alan Forsyth and family

Allan and family at the Kyles of Bute in January 2016

I was born in 1960 in a little village called Kennoway in Fife, Scotland. I had an older sister and three years later we were joined by my younger brother. We had a happy family life. My father was an engineer and my mum a full-time mum. In terms of spiritual upbringing, my mum attended church regularly but my dad was more of an agnostic. I’m really glad about mum’s faith because she ensured I got spiritual food and used to say a prayer with us each night as she put us to bed. My dad neither encouraged nor discouraged us in this. However, he was a very open-minded and thoughtful man and encouraged us to explore issues. My mum taught us to love everyone and my dad taught us to think for ourselves – I can’t really think of a better inheritance. Read more...

Maureen Barbara Sier

Maureen Sier

I was born in 1958 in a small city in the North East of Scotland called Elgin. I suspect my upbringing was pretty typical of a working-class family in that era. I lived in a small 2-bedroom council flat with my brother and sister. Dad worked abroad as an overhead linesman in Africa and mum’s main job was looking after us and doing a bit of part-time work when available.   My family were not ‘religious’ but we did go to Sunday School (as did almost all my friends) and some of my happiest childhood memories are of the Church Sunday school picnic and Christmas party.   Religion was not part of any conversation at home as far as I can remember. Read more...

Andy McCafferty

Andy McCafferty









Bábis in the Woods

We children always had to sit on the front pews of the church during Mass, where the priest could keep an eye on us. By the age of fifteen, however, I had managed to move to near the back door, apparently by mutual agreement.  It is not that I was less intent in my devotions by that time but rather my presence in the body of the congregation seemed to annoy the other worshippers and their obvious distaste for me put me off my devotions.  I had always been a bit of a scruff.  At that time I dressed in blue jeans and black leather biker’s jacket, and in 1968 that was an anachronism because everyone else my age was into the Beatles.  When I finally found myself sitting on a pew on my own, my faith broke.  I not only rejected the congregation which had rejected me, I rejected the church which housed it.  I decided that God could not reside in such a place, and since my religious upbringing had been Catholic, in rejecting the church I had no option but to reject God too.  My atheism lasted less than a fortnight.  After this time I admitted to myself that God does exist and that means that there must be some form of guidance out there somewhere. I started to look for it. Read more...