Hijab: Oppression or Liberation?

Dear reader, 

Don’t read the title and assume that this is another Muslim woman attempting to enforce her laws in a culture that does not want manipulation or “Eastern” influence. I see myself as a “Live and let live” individual, so I kindly ask you to allow me to finish my argument and then I’ll allow you to question my beliefs. Read this with an open mind.  

It’s a sunny London day and I’m on the tube. A woman walks into the carriage, wearing shorts that are no less revealing than a pair of knickers & a low cut vest with her cleavage exposed. As she walked past, almost every single person in the carriage stared at her. Men were gawping. Lost. No added decorations or exaggeration for dramatic effects. I say this exactly how it was. To the far right, I saw two men tilt their iPhones towards her direction. Lucky for me (!), I was wearing contacts so it didn’t take me long to realise that they were taking photos of her backside. They were nudging one another and laughing, eyes fixed on her body. Disturbing, yet far from surprising. She stood in the middle as if a form of entertainment for the bored commuters of the city. And how much do you have to pay for entertainment nowadays? Not much. She became nothing more than an excessively perfumed naked body, with a few strings covering here and there. 

Put all hatred towards Islam aside and rid yourself of any misconceptions for the time being. Stop. Think. If that woman was to ignite an intellectual conversation with anyone, how many would concentrate on the content of her speech and not on the revealed flesh? As a woman, I can honestly say that as well as thinking how good looking she is, I’d also be picking out the flaws in her body. Whether it’s examining her stretch marks or cellulite, because that’s just how it is. A woman would analyse negatively and a man would be drawn to the apparent beauty, neglecting any other factors. These are the laws of attraction. Human attraction, not Islamic. Would I be attentive to her during such a conversation? Of course, out of respect, I would be. But, not as much. Why? Because there’s a distraction. She has placed an obstacle in the path of respect.

Now here’s another scenario – what if she was modestly dressed? (I’ll discuss below what I mean by “modest” and that does not include wearing black only or covering the face. It’s quite far from that, actually).

A woman walks into the tube, dressed in a way that leaves no room for judging by appearance because I can’t see the curls on her head, how big her thighs are or how small her waist is. This woman would be forcing me to look up at her. I won’t be given a chance to think of how much she needs to tone up or lose the kgs, nor would a man be placed the opportunity to see where her curves lie or how big her bosoms are. She demands that you listen to her words and judge her based on that and nothing else. She receives respect and appreciation. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but surely this is liberation? 

This woman has freed herself from the chains of modern society. Free from the sexual objectification of women. Free from having to live up to the physical expectations of the world. How many of us have driven past a H&M billboard from last season’s bikini range and thought “Wow, I could sit down with this woman and share deep thoughts”? In fact, how many of us even took a moment to look at their faces? They became nothing. Merely objects and dolls used for marketing through targeting man’s greatest weakness.

Can you still expect me to believe that these women are free and that I’m oppressed? Regardless of how challenging it was in the weather, never did I appreciate my Hijab more than during this show of “Freedom” & “Female progression” on the tube.

Some will probably come forward and say that men don’t respect women anyway so why bother? And I’ll say to them that you shouldn’t be liaising with uneducated men that are adamant on being sexist snobs anyway. Defeat their ideas and let your personalities shine. 

Raise your voices, not your skirts.

Here’s a not-so-great example to explain the concept further. You place an incredible toy in front of child. You tell the child that it belongs to someone else and forbid it from playing with the toy. Now this child may be the most well raised being and probably won’t go near it. But, does it stop it from thinking of ways to attain it? Inside, the child is plotting and scheming of ways. The child is taught not to touch that which is not his or hers, but it’s unrealistic to expect it not to think of ways to get the toy. So, why torment the child in the first place? Some will take it anyway, which is wrong, but not a far-fetched expectation. They had no right to BUT they did, so you’re left to deal with the consequences. My point is that it’s not logical for a person to have their body exposed and be oblivious to the results. A woman that walks in the night half-naked does not deserve rape. No one at all deserves this atrocity nor does a rapist have the right to inflict such pain in a person’s life. I understand why many are infuriated by this “She’s dressed like that so she deserves to get hurt” argument because it is in fact as stupid as it sounds. It greatly angers me too. But, there are people out there with no sense of morality or emotions, so don’t fall into a trap. It CAN be avoided and this is exactly what Islam is trying to emphasise on. Your body is yours, protect it. You deserve more than getting hurt by an imbecile. You have the right to be judged on what is IN your head and not what is apparent. You will be evaluated for intelligence and skills instead of looks and sexual appeal. Utilise this right to gain respect because you are only worth that and more.

What is unfortunate is that many assume that the concept of Hijab is based on the barbaric stereotype that every man is an untamed lustful animal and every woman is heavenly pure. Therefore, Islam enforces the dressing of the female in black from head to toe, walking a few metres behind her polygamist husband that has no boundaries due to his uncontrollable nature. False.

Man was created with desire, something which Islam does not defy nor object to. Hijab is a two way thing. Allah tells the believing men to lower their gaze BEFORE He informs the believing women of their duties with regards to modesty. It’s a concept that can only work when both genders have practised this self-restraint and control. A proper Muslim man and woman are expected to not be looking anyway. But, they are also expected to cover up so as to not create the possibility of unacceptable sexual arousal, which can be consequential. We are required to control our temptations but we are also taught to AVOID creating them for each other. At the same time, Islam highly encourages the relationships between men and women through marriage. However, we are taught to honour and strengthen our relationship with our spouse, building it on love and respect. Dare I say this, but allowing another man to see your wife partially naked is far from honouring your relationship with her.

Now, to define “modest”. Islam does not have a fixed dress code that a Muslim woman must adhere to. However, certain requirements must be met. How a woman meets this is up to her and is dependent upon where she is. It requires a female to cover her body, excluding the face and the hands, and wear loose clothing so as to not give any indications regarding her physique. There is male Hijab, with the differences lying mainly in degree. It should also not be tight or provocative. As well as this, both are expected to observe their behaviour, manners, speech and appearance in public as part of their Hijab.

What you see in Saudi Arabia and other Eastern countries isn't Islam. The problem today is that people are unable to distinguish between Islamic law and fierce cultural standpoints. These governments have attempted to construct systems using Islam but believe me when I tell you that they’ve done it all wrong. They've abused the teachings of the Quran and manipulated them. Laws which are so logical yet so simple have been made to seem convoluted and aggressive. If a priest told me that raping an immodest woman or poisoning a disbeliever is obligatory, I wouldn't frown and curse Christianity. I’d reconsider his mental state because having read the bible, I know that no religion would encourage such violence.

So, why do you place those terrorists in the front line when it comes to understanding Islam? An idiot with an ankle sweeping dress, a long beard and severe personal problems shouldn’t be enough for you to judge Islam. I ask of you to read the Quran. Understand It. With regards to Hijab, you’ll appreciate it if you spoke to Muslim women in the West. Don’t feel embarrassed to question me about my headscarf or assume that I’d be offended. We love it when you ask us! We only progress as a society when we exchanged ideas in a respectful manner, without having to necessarily agree with each other. The most effective debates are those that are healthy.

Believe me, I was never forced into the Hijab. Yes, my parents were very adamant on me wearing it. But, if I decided to take it off tomorrow, I would cause an uproar sure, but at the end of the day it’s my choice. So when I wear the Hijab for the rest of my life, it’s because I love and appreciate what it’s done for me, not because I’m oppressed. So think twice before you throw such remarks, because this was a decision that many of us Muslim women have made on our own.

With our Hijab, we have freed ourselves. 

A Journey to Hijab

This was written by a good friend that wished to share her personal Hijab story...

A while back my very good friend posted a blog about her own struggles whilst observing the Hijab, and it was truly inspirational- inspirational enough for me to get writing about my own experience and challenges (although I don't think they will ever compare to her's).

As a young girl, my family had two kinds of people- the 'religious', and the more liberal, 'progressive', more cultural relatives. The latter were the more dominant bunch but the same way a little girl gets excited or looks forward to wearing or experiencing high heels or jewellery or other 'grown up' things (apologies for such a petty comparison), I was extremely keen to put on the Hijab. Seeing other older girls and women in the family wear it made me look forward to my ninth birthday. It almost seemed like a rites of passage.

So, it was my ninth birthday, there was a family dinner type of thing and I came downstairs all dressed up, but with something unusual and extra- my Hijab. Instantly I was told to go upstairs and take it off and at the time, I did as I was told. The years went by and every now and then I'd ask again if I could start wearing Hijab, and for reasons that I never understood back then, it was always postponed. When you turn 11, when you turn 12, 13...but the day when everyone in the family would happily let me wear Hijab just wouldn't come.

Looking back, although I most definitely do not agree with the reasoning of those who didn't want me to wear Hijab, I can understand their concerns. Namely that I was 9- what does a 9 year old know? Hijab was a huge decision- I say decision because it wasn't a norm in my family at the time- and 9 was just too tender an age to flit to a decision like that. After wearing Hijab I began to realise exactly why Allah (swt) had ordained girls to start observing Hijab at such a tender age- I realised that physical Hijab complimented social Hijab, it becomes a part of who you are. Apologies for the cheesy analogy but imagine a young baby plant tied to a firm, upright stick in order to direct its growth...now if that plant was allowed to grow freely for years and then the stick was tied to it, it would be near impossible for the direction of growth to change to match the stick. If the stick was tied from the beginning of growth, the plant would grow upright much more easily. The other fear was probably that I'd later regret my decision and take the Hijab off- which back then was a seemingly much bigger deal than it has become today. And lastly, I still feel like a possible reason for their stance was the possible discrimination, hindrance of career and education prospects. Anyway, as I said the years went by and still, not everyone was comfortable with the idea.

When I was 14, it was the Wiladat Fatima al Zahra (a.s) and we went to a mowlood. I wore my Hijab there because it was the norm- not with the intention of keeping it on permanently. I know a lot of people who struggle with things like Hijab or music or whatever find these kinds of holy dates or Muharram or Shahr Ramadhan useful as a turning points. They might promise themselves to stop listening to music on the 15th of Sha'ban or start wearing the Hijab when they come back from a Ziyara- but it wasn't like that for me. I hadn't thought about this date in particular, or when I would put the Hijab on- I was just waiting for approval. But that day, I have no idea why, out of the blue I just thought, 'I'm going to keep it on.' It wasn't even some kind of motivational, impulsive surge of will power or energy. It was the calmest, most peaceful decision I'd ever made. Call me overly emotional or away with the fairies, but I truly believe that Fatima al Zahra (a.s) herself gave me that little push.

Drama followed. Or at least to my 14 year old self it seemed like drama. Some relatives stopped speaking to me for a while- probably to pressure me to take it off, others would try and convince me I wasn't ready- it was just a phase, or try and sway me with emotional blackmail- upsetting family members, disobeying, etc etc. It was a big deal for me- for the first time in my life, these people who I'd looked up to, obeyed, loved all my life were suddenly turning against me for reasons I didn't understand or agree with. I felt stubborn, but without choice. I remember such distinct moments when I'd be alone and I'd speak to Fatimat al Zahra (a.s) and tell her that since she was the one to give me the push to make this decision, she would have to be there with me to see it through also.

I don't mean to sound idealistic or make this a romantic sob story but honestly, when I look back at the challenges I came through, I don't know how I ended up where I am today. If I had to go through it all again, I don't think I'd manage- I think I would have given in, and that's why I have such firm belief in the help of Fatima al Zahra (a.s). I remember times when I would genuinely consider just listening to my family in order to put an end to the drama and hostility, and I don't know...every time I guess I'd remember who's obedience I was prioritising and I'd stick to my guns once again.

Alhamdulillah, after a few months of denial, cold shoulders, and some other stuff I don't want to get into, I guess they 'got over it', for lack of a better phrase. There wasn't much anyone could do. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that putting on the Hijab was the best decision I had ever made in my life. It changed everything for me. Suddenly I found myself giving more attention to praying on time, avoiding music, wanting to go to majalis, just an overall 'religious' vibe took over me. I guess it was that I felt like I had to live up to the essence of Hijab. It had become a part of who I was. One thing I noticed straight away was how my confidence shot up through the roof when I started observing Hijab. I was so much comfortable with myself, my views, what I wanted to say. Even my school teachers had noticed a change- I was usually the quiet shy girl whose feedback on parents' evenings would be that she was too silent in class and didn't input in class discussions. Suddenly I became a noticeably active participant of class debates, sometimes even staying behind to continue a philosophical chat with teachers after class ended (keen bean, I know).

I cannot say it enough- Hijab is the best thing that has happened to me. I didn't write this blog for people to admire me through the struggle, or for sympathy for it, or anything else of the sort. I wrote it because I know there are probably many girls and young (or old) women who are facing similar and probably worse problems than I did. My message: the struggle is worth it. I cannot stress enough what goodness Hijab brought into my life. I hate to imagine what I would be withouth my Hijab, only God knows. Alhamdulillah Rab-il 'alameen, I will never, ever be able to show enough gratitude for being blessed with this gift of Hijab.

Jumping to Judgement

“I’m out and I see my cousin, should I say Salam to her?”

Of course not. They’ll say you’re in a relationship.

“I’ve just started wearing the Hijab but noticed that my close friend wasn’t wearing it properly. Shall I advise her?”

Of course not. When you graduate from the University of Hijab then maybe but don’t you dare tell her what to do just yet.

“I’m a young, single guy and want to organise a Majlis, will I be judged?”

Of course you will. They’ll say your intention is impure and you’re up there to advertise yourself.

“I’ve sinned in the past but have changed Alhamdulillah. Shall I tweet a hadith on repentance that had inspired me on this journey?” 

Of course not. Do you think you’re a Sheikh? What a disgusting ‘holier than thou’ attitude you’re developing.

“I’m really interested in a religious sister from a wealthy background but don’t have the best job in the world, do you think I should propose?” 

Of course not. Unless you’re a manager at a bank, drive a Mercedes and currently own a house under your name. Otherwise, they’ll say you’re after the money. 

I could go on forever.

A gossiping society of hasty judgements that does not think twice before jumping to farfetched conclusions – this is what we have become. 

The above examples are a few, believe it or not, "casual" encounters which one must bear in order to survive in such conditions. So yes, there are far worse. Too many of us have placed blinkers on and refuse to see a situation from different angles. We don't give each other chances. We see or hear something and rush to drag each other down because, to be quite frank, we're having too much fun at it.

"We have two ears and one mouth, so we should listen more than we say". But we don't listen. We gossip, judge with confidence and point fingers easily, as if we are indestructible and exemplary. We are nothing less of a dangerously judgemental community to the extent that even if I'm doing something completely normal, I have to think many times before it because one way or another, it will be perceived as something wrong and so let the Chinese whispers commence.

Upon defining the verb "judge", we get "to decide", "to assess" etc. There's nothing wrong with distinguishing between what is right and what is wrong. However, what's problematic is our perception of right and wrong, derived from extreme cultural standpoints, which we use to judge each other upon and we look down on people for that. We don't encourage each other to do good because we're too busy finding flaws in one another. 

Recently, #TwitterHijab was trending and it received a vast range of reactions. It was a good initiative as I think it is far more effective when the youth learn from each other, as opposed to hearing about social hijab in a one hour lecture at the mosque. We share similar social problems and can help one another to improve, but we didn’t even give that a chance.

The first Quranic verses that came to mind when I saw the tweets were “…Why do you preach what you do not practise? How despicable it is in the sight of Allah that you may preach what you do not practise” [61:3]. It would have been nice to see more implementing and less Tweeting. Reading them, I felt that they were all directed at a few people who, naturally, would have spoken out in defence. You can’t humiliate someone publicly, even if they are abusing social hijab, and not expect a negative reaction. It doesn't work like that and never will.

Here’s a short story showing the beautiful approach and etiquette of our Imams which you’ve probably heard:

An old man sat to do his Wudhu (Ablution) but was doing it incorrectly. Imam Hassan (as) and Imam Hussain (as), young boys at the time, saw him and immediately realised that he was not doing it correctly, but they hesitated to tell him directly. Why? Why would an infallible hesitate? Because they thought that perhaps the old man would feel humiliated by them or might even lose interest in the act of worship. Sitting next to him, they started to do the Wudhu and during it, Imam Hassan (as) would say “Oh Hussain, my Wudhu is correct and more perfect than your Wudhu”. Imam Hussain insisted that his was better. So they said “Let us refer to this gentleman, he is older than us and should be able to decide”. The old man was listening patiently. The Imams performed their Wudhu, under his supervision, one after the other. When they had finished, the old man realised the flaws in his Wudhu. He turned to the Imams and gently said “You have both done it correctly. I am grateful that you chose to guide me in such a beautiful manner”.

Makes you think, doesn’t it? They’re unable to sin and have reached the highest levels of perfection, but examine how they chose to tell others of their mistakes. Such a strategic and eloquent approach, leaving the other person with no choice but to reconsider their actions. This is what we need more of. I have to agree that many of the tweets were very “bam! In your face”. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with advising one another, but do it out of love, not spitefulness.

But, I’ll act as the counterbalance. Many made a mockery of it, which in a way, was perceived to be ridiculing the entire notion of improving social Hijab. Also, as ironic as it may have seemed, those “preachy” 140 characters shouldn’t have given anyone an excuse to judge the “opposition”. Yes, their approach could have been better but to see the transition from a respectable range of tweets to personal attacks and indirects was embarrassing. It’s as if that trend was a trigger to release all the hate you had for someone. Again, how does that make us look? We trend with the goal of spiritual progression but end up with social deterioration. It’s saddening because we can do so much with what we have but too easily, the judging and gossiping ruins it all once again.

So, even if someone is doing something which is unacceptable, we don’t come together to deal with the issue calmly & swiftly. Rather, we pounce like lions, put on our Islamic police uniforms and tell the person “Hey, you’re sinning and you’re probably feeling bad about it but have no fear, I’m here to make you feel that bit worse”. This is our problem. Instead of assisting one another to advance, many find joy in gathering to list the wrong doings of so and so, oblivious to the fact that there are always two sides to a story. Those judging are probably drowned in their own sins too but hey, your sins seem to ignite more gossip so let’s pick on you.

Here’s another great example: Girls taking off their Hijab. Yes, it’s haram but look around you. The aggressive reactions that these girls have received are one of the primary causes as to why this problem is now epidemic. If she’s taken it off, then it’s obvious that it’s because she has not fully understood or appreciated the logic behind it, otherwise she would not have taken it off. How many of us stopped and thought, maybe I ought to talk to her gently instead of rehearsing my “dirty look” and saving it for every time I saw her? If you do get round to actually talking, you’ll discover that they all have one personal issue which has led to the abandoning of the Hijab – low self-esteem. So, the Hijab isn’t the ultimate problem. This low self-esteem is what leads to them facing struggles, which I’ve mentioned in “Struggles of a towel head”, in wearing the Hijab. 

We need to smile at these sisters and help them. Weigh up the pros and cons of developing such a strategic method with the pros of scolding, judging and gossiping. I can’t think of a single advantage to be honest, except that of a peculiar form of self-satisfaction. The consequences, however, are great. With such negative energy radiating from us as a whole, we eliminate even that slightest possibility of the sister putting it back on. Many do think about it constantly when they’ve taken it off and the feelings of regret build up and eat them inside, even if it doesn’t seem it. But when you get so much hatred aimed at you, the last thing you’d think off is going back because even then, due to judgemental natures, you’d STILL be looked down upon. So why bother anyway, right? (I speak about the majority of the people here but I do personally know some who have tried to aid the situation so don’t assume I’m releasing my frustration at society as a whole).

Imam Ali (as) says to Malik Al-Ashtar: “If one night you see someone committing a sin, tomorrow don’t look at him as a sinner, he may have repented during the night and you didn’t know”. We can learn so much from that to deal with such issues.

Now you may accuse me of being a pessimist for highlighting the flaws in our communities, but why praise endlessly when there are still vast improvements to be made? We have achieved so much, but this judgemental nature must be defeated as it hinders any future progress, be it personal or social, as “Criticism polishes my mirror”.

With all honesty, us youth are far less judgemental than the elders, but attempting to change the attitudes of the elders has proved to be, without exaggeration, an impossible mission. So the hope lies within us.

I didn’t intend on preaching in this blog, so I apologise if that’s what it seems like I’m doing. I just believe that we have so many obstacles which we can tackle together, if we all change the way we see each other. Let’s busy ourselves with our own sins and adopt more tactical methods of getting the messages across. Less judging. Less gossiping.

Crown of Liberty

Like the sun to the Earth, you illuminated me.
Like the clouds to the sun, you concealed me.
Like a mother’s womb to her foetus, you protected me.
Like an oyster shell to its pearl, you shielded me.
Like a pod to its peas, you preserved me.
Like a bee to sweet nectar, you conserved me.
Like a bird to its nest, you defended me.
Like strong roots to its tree, you empowered me.
Like the roof over my head, you sheltered me.
Like the wings of a bird, you set me free.

You are my Hijab.

When I was falling, you were the iron fist that held me on to the rope of salvation.

When I was feeling low, you helped me climb the ladder to elevate my status to the skies.

When I was being discriminated against, you injected me with pride and motivation to persist.

When I was feeling unworthy, you whispered “A sincere queen of value and nothing less you can be”.

When I was losing my voice, you amplified my words and strengthened me.

When I was told I was ugly, you shimmered to release my inner beauty.

When I was told I was oppressed, you reminded me of Zainab (as) and liberated me.

A Shawl of Diamonds, lowered from paradise, on my head you proudly rest.
“You deserve the Paradise; don’t sell yourself for anything less”.


You are my Hijab, my Crown of Liberty.

A Little Too Late.

"Grief is the price we pay for Love".

6^th of December, 2011. That day strikes vivid memories, ones which I have tried so hard to push away & find myself teary writing about. I lost a true hero and a role model, my paternal grandfather. A few days before he passed away, he fell into a deep coma and was showing slow signs of recovery. The doctor was going to operate on him but informed us that it had a 5% success rate. My emotionally distraught father left everything, booked a same day flight to Iran and we were left here hopeless. 

On the night of the 6^th of Muharram, or the night of Abu Fadhil Al-Abbas (as), I went to Hussainiya with my mother and sisters. We all prayed for his health but the suffering of the years meant that Jido was constantly in excruciating pain, so a part of me was wishing for his comfort, oblivious to the fact that death was possibly just that. It was packed and I was standing near the door of the smaller hall at the back for the women. Before the recitation of the Musaa’ib (tragedies) of Imam Hussain (as) & Abu Fadhil (as) began, the men were preparing for the re-enactments which would accompany the heart wrenching words. I watched from far, sobbing, at the man who was dressed as the moon of the Hashemites, with his blood drenched palms placed on top of him. I was overwhelmed by emotions and felt this immense chill spread throughout my entire body, something I only felt when I held onto the bars of the shrines in Karbala on the day of Ashura. 

I couldn’t stop my tears from flowing and fell to my knees. At that moment, I spoke to Abu Fadhil (as) and asked him to help my grandfather on this special night and bring him back to us if Allah (SWT) wills it. Soon, the men lifted the man and began to hail “Ya Abbas jeeb il mai li Sukaina!” which translates to “Oh Abbas, bring the water to Sukaina!”. Remembering the daughters of Imam Hussain(as), I began to think to myself – What tragedies are we facing compared to those of the Ahlulbayt (as)? Death is a milestone in the journey that we are all on, so although the separation from my grandfather may be difficult, I shouldn’t let it overpower the pain and sorrow which we must feel for them on those holy days. 

Half way through the first Latmiya (eulogy), we received a phone call by my father, telling us that the operation was successful and jido was breathing normally. I cried out of joy but more out of astonishment. Abbas (as) – when you ask him, he doesn’t just give. He gives without delay as if to demonstrate his authority and tell you who he is. I guarantee all that have requests to read the ziyara of Abu Fadhil (as) every day because it is not him to reject. On the way home, I remembered that I asked for the comfort of my grandfather so that didn’t necessarily mean he’d get out of the coma but that his breathing was fine and that he wasn’t suffering anymore. So, a voice was telling me that he wouldn’t be with us for much longer. On the night before Ashura, I read the Ziyara of Hussain (as). By the end of it, I swear, I had a strong feeling that something would happen the day after. I left it in the hand of Allah (SWT) & the Ahlulbayt (as) and went to sleep. 

Six in the morning and the house was silent. I heard muffled cries and shot up. Running down the stairs, I didn’t know what to expect. I saw my mother sobbing, dressed in black, with her forehead resting on her knees like a young child. I collapsed on the floor and just began to wail with my sisters. I wasn’t thinking straight and I wished that I had hugged him a little longer when I last saw him. I wished that I had told him that I loved him more often and served him properly. I wished that I told him what he truly meant to me. The last time I saw him was 2 Muharrams go & when it was time to leave for our flight, I remember him sitting on the staircase with tears in his eyes, refusing to look up. I said to him “Jido, don’t cry like I’m never going to see you again” and he hugged me sadly.

My aunt came over, held me firmly and told me to stop. She kept saying “Narjis remember Zainab (as) on this day, this is something small, have the patience of Zainab (as)”. Zainab - Despite seeing the holy heads of her loving brothers hung on spears, she told the oppressor, may Allah curse his soul for eternity, that she saw nothing but beauty. We hear this time and time again, but seriously, it’s beyond comprehension. If you want to understand pain, then look into their lives. Whether you’ve lost your father, your mother, sibling or grandparent, what you’ve felt is only a fraction of the grief that lies in their hearts and in the heart of Sahib Al-Zamaan, Imam Mahdi (May Allah hasten his reappearance). Yet, their moments of patience are still remembered till today and we can learn the greatest lessons from them.

Little do we know that Allah can take us when we least expect it, and we saw this in our community here. Too often we take advantage of those around us and don’t appreciate each other whilst we’re all here. It’s a real shame that death is the only thing which can unite us when, as clichéd as it may sound, we should be united regardless. It has come to the point where we, the Shia youth, are bickering fighting over absolutely anything. If it’s not about Wilayat Al-Faqih, then it’s scholar bashing. We have formed so many different cliques among us that are preventing and have destroyed friendships, marriages and any hopes of increasing our numbers. The single thing which united the Shia before was the love for Ali (as), but take a glance upon our degrading state. Is this what we repay the Ahlulbayt (as) with? When Imam Mahdi (as) needs us more than ever, we are tweeting about trivial things and hating on each other? 

Men travelled across oceans to seek the truth when it has been placed in front of us. We’ve abused this privilege at a time where we can utilise the media to achieve wonders. We are not immortal beings & our time here is limited. Be productive and stay clear of useless debates, and I say this to myself before anyone. Think twice, maybe three times, before you wish to initiate a public discussion that will lead to nothing. We have the ultimate role models & the gift of guidance by Allah (SWT) when the global goal is to eradicate this holy message. Be kind to your brothers, merciful and understanding. To let politics divide us is truly disheartening. Who cares if I follow Sayed x or if you follow Sayed y? The love of Ali (as) is enough to destroy these differences and if it isn’t, make it. Let us banish the shackles of today and work towards empowering the youth for tomorrow before it’s a little too late. 

The Struggles of a 'Towel head'

Hijab: A single word which has become enough to cause controversy, havoc and an eruption of emotions within us.

I felt compelled to write this after attending a discussion recently, whereby one of the topics were whether men should be allowed to advise women on hijab. It gradually became more heated and it was interesting to hear the views from both sides. One comment, however, struck me. It was a rhetorical and somewhat patronising question posed to the sisters about what struggles exactly do we face. I agree that in comparison to our sisters in France and other countries, in which keeping a simple scarf on your head is a daily battle, that the problems us “hijabis” face here are not as dramatic. However, that does not eliminate the obstacles that we are constantly tackling in order to maintain decent hijab here in London. Some get it easier than others but I for one suffered and fought to keep it on & so the comment saddened me and for once, completely silenced me.

I come from a very religious background but my parents raised me and my 4 sisters as individual thinkers and gave us the freedom to understand what was right and wrong. My father would talk to us gently about the hijab and I found myself too eager to wait and wear it at the age of 9. The day I walked into school with a white headscarf on was the day that I coincidently lost almost over a half of my friends. As a child, I was confused and upset. I sat down in class & a girl asked me “Has your dad shaved your hair off because you’ve been naughty? Is that why you’re wearing a towel on your head?”. I was pestered for wearing it and as well as that, they all thought that my incredible & understanding father was an oppressor. I couldn’t decide which saddened me more at the time. I’d come home crying and my parents would remind me of how brave I was being and how happy my grandmother Fatima Al-Zahra (as) was of me. That meant the world to me so I persevered, but it only got worse. Weeks went by and the bullying continued.

It was almost too much on my 10^th birthday when a boy pulled off my hijab in front of the male teachers and ran off. I tried to chase him but he pushed me and that point, I just curled up into a ball and cried. His parents apologised to mine but it didn’t stop him doing it a second time. At 11 years old, it was also pulled off my head by a girl in my class. What was more astonishing was that when I chose not to cry this time and instead complained to the head teacher with all confidence, I was called disrespectful for accusing the girl of being a racist. Swimming classes soon started and out of my own will, I chose to stay in another class every week while mine went to swim. The teachers sat me down every time and asked me the same questions, “Is your father forcing you out of it?”, “You do know that he’s stealing your childhood from you?”. The consistent bullying was from the elders too and I as much as I tried to tell them that I chose not to attend because of my religion, they still thought I was a liar and an abused child. In conclusion, primary school was hell for me but by the end of it, I found myself replying to those teachers and children with all courage because although I suffered, I swear to God, there was a force that kept me going and injected me with strength.

I entered secondary school with an attitude towards my hijab that nobody could challenge. Those obstacles that I tackled at such a young age had a huge impact on my personality and made me a very confident and opinionated teenager.  The school that I attended had a high population of Muslims and so wearing it was easy Alhamdulillah. Most of the staff, not all, were understanding and didn’t challenge my views like they were at primary school. Soon, I was at college and the doors to a whole new world were opened to me. I chose to wear an Abaya in those 2 years to push myself to improve. The challenges I faced there were of a completely different sort. Seeing some of the hijab styles around me led me constantly fighting the voice of the devil within me. It was so attractive at times and tempting to try out. Summertime would come & there were half-naked students at every angle. That’s when the eyes were on me the most and I experienced the Jihad of hijab. One girl turned around and asked in a very loud voice in class once “Narjis, aren’t you hot in that!?”. I turned to her and smiled because my hijab truly protected me at college. There was this great amount of respect that I received from the non-Muslim male students at college and I cherished that because I felt that I was doing it the proper way.

Now most guys say that they don’t really know of the difficulties hijabis face but I’ll give you an idea of what we are challenged with daily. When we wake up in the morning to get dressed and leave, we ask ourselves a million questions such as, “Are those jeans wide enough?”, “Is my dress long enough?”, “Is my Abaya going to show my body if it gets windy?”, “Is my Shela (scarf) too colourful?”, “Can you see my figure in this?”, “Is my perfume too strong?” and so on. Yes, it gets tiring and I often find myself going back and forth and starting over. After finally deciding on what is appropriate, we head off. Sitting on the Tube or the bus, we are constantly pulling down our dresses or Abayas, adjusting our scarves, pulling down on our sleeves, hiding any loose hairs etc. Once we leave, we have to constantly monitor our behaviour and think before any action, something you may argue that every Muslim must do. However, with the Hijab on, we are placed in the front line in terms of representing Islam. Speaking in a proper manner, not laughing aloud and walking with a friendly yet stern face - all things we aim to do in public. 

Another issue which has become less of a problem as years pass is the bearing of racist remarks thrown at us, such as the infamous "towel head", "terrorist", "immigrant", "Paki", you name it. This is more apparent outside of London but it still hurts when we have to encounter such people and hard to tolerate. It can literally affect your entire mood for the day unless you force yourself to ignore them eventually. There is also a demonic inner voice which tries to steer us away from the right path & seems to get louder when the sun is out. We see women walking freely in their short dresses & their hair out whilst were contemplating on how good it must feel to go out like that. Trust me, it's tough. But, we remind ourselves of how much this hijab is only doing us a service by protecting us from the eyes of lusty men and our way of demanding respect from the world. 

In conclusion, to say that the hijab is easy and that we face no or little challenges is quite an unrealistic and unfair statement to make. There are pressures from all angles and we're fighting ourselves before anyone to maintain this Islamic dress code. I believe that I speak on behalf of all the Muslim sisters when I say that the hijab is somewhat difficult. That being said, when the passion for it is there, it's strong. Once you have completely grasped the meaning of the hijab and practise it, you develop an immense love for it, despite the hardships that come with it here in the West. 

Also, in these past few months or so, there has been much focus and negative attention on the hijab here in the West within the Muslim & non-Muslim communities. The notion of adopting the Islamic dress code is being criticised and jeered upon even by those from us and within us. We’ve witnessed a revolution in the hijab & an unacceptable manipulation of it. Even worse, we’ve witnessed this saddening phenomenon of Muslim girls taking off their hijab completely. Unfortunately, our judgemental communities have done little to defeat this and deal with the problem. You find that the approach many brothers and sisters use is an aggressive one and puts a halt to any progress or improvements in hijab. If you genuinely seek the betterment of your Muslim sisters, then understand that when you attack them, it’s only natural for them to retaliate or defend themselves, even if what is being said by you is true. Consequently, people see useless and embarrassing debates all over Twitter or Facebook about how haram skinny jeans are & how aggressive guys are being. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree with the complete modern transformation of the hijab today. But remember, every time you make such a remark publicly that the entire world can see it, not just the sister you’re aiming to guide. How does that make Islam look? Suppose there was an open-minded non-Muslim that was curious about the Hijab but then saw the tweets under the #Hijab trend? Wouldn’t that deter them from reading further if there is such negativity coming from Muslims about it? Think about the positive impact that an encouraging Hijab tweet could cause as opposed to such a negative remark. Also, whatever happened to giving your brother 70 excuses? And, if you cannot find an excuse for him, look for some flaw in your perception? Assume that sister with the poor hijab has just joined the religion of Islam, just started wearing the hijab, is the only hijabi in her entire family or simply does not know how to wear it the proper way. If you honestly desire their guidance then do it the right way! Public humiliation is never the way forward.

Beginning to adopt the hijab is an enormous, important and life-changing stage in a woman’s life. We are in a constant state of worship & Allah (SWT) has truly preserved us by gifting us with the hijab. Let’s salute our sisters for wearing it when the influences of Western fashion are ever increasing. There has been too much negativity surrounding this issue and were running out of time. Are we waiting for more sisters to take it off completely? Yes, the hijab we are seeing is FAR from perfect or even adequate and sometimes even quite distressing. But, it’s up to all of us to change this and move towards adopting the hijab, both the female and male, which would please Allah (SWT). This can easily be done by altering our attitudes and working towards progress together. We need more events for the encouragement and the improvement of the hijab and less abusive attitudes. We need more self-improvement workshops and less Twitter debates. Slowly but surely, we will achieve change. 

A Shawl of Diamonds, lowered from paradise, on my head you proudly rest.
“You deserve the Paradise; don’t sell yourself for anything less”.

You are my Hijab, my Crown of Liberty.