I never thought I would take the word “unattractive” as a compliment. The concept of hijab has changed the way I view myself and the world around me.

Before I started wearing the veil, I remember being a great fan of “America’s Next Top Model”, a popular TV show. I learned to match colors when wearing an outfit, to walk like a model, and I also learned how to “smile with my eyes.” I could easily relate to the candidates because, as a student in Marketing, I understood that models usually pose for the purpose of advertising a product; they are somewhat  like marketing agents, learning to sell themselves to fashion designers and other companies.

One particular episode, however, changed my perspective. The contestants were getting dressed for a photo-shoot and one of the models did not like the clothes she was required to wear.  It did not match her personal style. As a result, her photo-shoot was a disaster and she was blamed by the jury. “You are a model; your opinion does not matter. Your job is to wear the outfit and pose.”  I was shocked. Was that the price of fame and beauty? Posing for people who do not really care about your level of education, your personality, or your opinion?

I promised myself I would not abide by those standards anymore.  I remember being very uncomfortable when going out without make-up and feeling less fashionable with loose clothing. I, who used to wake up early to choose a perfect dress for a perfect day, making sure I looked nice for the people. As time went by though, I realized that I was drawing unwanted attention from the opposite gender.

I progressively became annoyed when being complimented for superficial things. I realized that there was more to me than my body measurements. I wanted to express myself in a different way; I wanted to be recognized for my love for writing, gardening, graphic design, and my interest in French literature, Asian culture and international cuisine. Most importantly, I wanted to be known for who I truly was: a Muslim woman.

Wearing the veil has taught me a different conception of beauty. I grew up believing that beauty should be displayed to the world. Overtime I learned that Muslim women cover for protection just like pearls are hidden in shells because they are precious, not hideous. It is just a matter of perspective.

Since then I started to live in a world which may appear upside-down to many. The longer my veil, the more protected and beautiful I feel. I beautify myself at home for myself, for the people who
matter such as my parents and my friends in an “all females” gathering. I still love fashion, but only when it goes hand in hand with my beliefs. Quite frankly, I would not mind being labeled as “unattractive” because that is exactly the purpose of hijab: to ‘not attract.’

People have different views on the veil. For me, hijab is a different definition of beauty, a different way to view the world.

The Messenger of Allah (salAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) said in an authentc hadith, ”Whosoever leaves something for the sake of Allah then Allah, the Mighty and Magnificent, will replace it with something better than it.”  [Ahmad]

I thank Allah the Almighty for guiding me, and blessing me with a better lifestyle. Now I value myself and others more; when I interact with people, the most important thing for me is their inner beauty rather than their race, nationality, or physical appearances. After donning the hijab, I received the gift of becoming a better servant and a better human being, alhamdulillah.

Image courtesy of minidan49

My journey to hijab was a roller coaster ride, having a lot of ups and downs. When I was in college, it was “in fashion” or “cool” to wear hijab amongst girls my age. So I too would wrap a piece of cloth on my head without knowing the true purpose of that  “piece of cloth.” I felt the girls around me looked so pretty with hijab covering their heads and so pretty much the majority of the crowd was wearing it meaninglessly, like I was.

I was born in a house where the male members would occasionally pray the Salah while it was mainly my mother’s duty to pray — a cultural myth of my country– as a mother’s prayers are looked at as a source of blessing for the children. I too was not regular in my prayers, and would pray whenever I felt like it. I was “seasonal Muslim.” It often gave me guilt that I would only pray when I needed something, like ease in my exams or some wish of mine; but I was influenced by shaytan so much that I often left praying altogether instead of protecting  my 5.

Shaytan often whispered to me things like: ‘you are a hypocrite;  you are praying to show off your love for Allah but in reality you just need some goodies from Him.’  This sense of guilt often took away from my already weak and broken prayers (I seek Allah’s protection from that).

As time progressed, my prayers kept getting further and further away from me, and so did my hijab. This valuable piece of cloth became lost somewhere dark enough that I even forgot about it. I started to wear the cultural “duppata” to cover my head, instead of hijab; no Salah, no hayaa, no understanding of Islam, and I was only covering my head for some sort of mental satisfaction.

Then after a long gap where I had gotten busy with my practical life, one day I accidentally bumped across some Islamic material while surfing online. I came across some videos which inspired me to know about Islam. The things attributed to religion that I had going on around me were merely self-made.  But these videos seemed to portray Islam in its true sense. I initially overlooked them and tried to ignore them as it was difficult for me to accept. But my curiosity inside me was pushing me to find out if they were true.

I started looking into some free Islamic material and blogs. I watched videos by famous Islamic figures like Dr. Zakir Naik (may Allah bless them with good in both worlds), which became a big motivation for me. I eventually dedicated my online time to Islamic reading, and I came across many things that continued to boost my Iman. It became my hobby to search the Islamic point of view on certain things, but later I got hungrier for knowledge.

Alhamdulillah, I started praying again (yes I got my 5 back!) As I would try to keep khushu’ in my prayers, I often had thoughts about the hijab. I reflected over how I had started in the past and it eventually got lost over time. I felt ashamed.

One day I decided to explore my closet again and rediscover my long lost friend. I found my hijab, put it on, and covered myself modestly. My iman was at its peak; I was highly motivated, and for the first time I felt worthy of the HIJAB.  Since then I am still a hijabi, alhamdulillah.

It was not that easy at first. My own family who loved me so much and who never discouraged me about things –was the first resistance I faced. Firstly, everyone took it as another seasonal fad for the hijab, but when they realized it was more than that, I faced a lot of heated arguments. Sometimes I would get angry myself and things would get out of hand. They never liked it as it seemed to them as a backward practice and a lot of people would ask them, “why do you force your daughter to hide herself in a scarf? She is still young, let her live. She can do all this when she grows older.” Despite all the resistance, I was firm with my decision. My siblings ridiculed me as “terrorist”  and other things, and sometimes it would hurt me badly but Allah gave me strength to ignore my family’s comments.

My journey from hijab to jilbab was not long after that. After some months I realized that something was missing. I was praying my salah regularly, reading and learning about Islam, quitting music, trying to get away from any evil around me –but what next? I would read a lot of articles on IGIC which gave me more motivation. Stories of our dear sisters made me stronger. So finally, I started to wear the jilbab to please Allah and gain more of His love, and so I could be closer to my Creator. SubhaAllah, what an experience it was! For the first time in my life, I felt fully covered, safe and secure. I felt like a pearl, a gem. I felt precious, a true Muslimah –the way my Rabb wants me to be, alhamdulillah!

Again it was not easy for me. Hijab was difficult to digest to begin with by the men in my family (as my mother was neutral about it; her thoughts were ‘let her play with the hijab, and when she will feel like she will leave it’) — so imagine how the reaction was to the  jilbab!  The fact is though, that when you start to walk on the path of Allah, people will try to stop you or make things difficult for you; however Allah makes it easy for you. With all the bad words and criticism you face patiently, the more reward you get, inshaAllah.

From that day on, I am a trying to be a better Muslimah. Day by day I face many things that increase my faith more and more. I haven’t taken off my jilbab or my hijab. My family has accepted my changes alhamdulillah, and I always pray that Allah gives them hidayah ameen. I also got married to a righteous spouse alhamdulillah, and he is very supportive in following the Deen –may Allah bless him with high ranks in Jannah  allow us to be  together in jannah ameen.

He has completed half my Deen and we are on the path of Allah together with the mercy of Allah. May Allah bless us with a righteous child and may he or she follow the path of Allah till the Day comes. Ameen.

Regards,
Muslimah Learner

Materialization of Liberation

Within every thread of the scarf I don on my head is woven the word ‘freedom’.

Everyday I deviate from societal standards by conforming to those of my Lord -

through this deviation, empowerment has been bestowed upon me – a blessing, minus the sword.

Society tells me that the exposure of my flesh will grant me an acceptance letter -

a congratulations! for embracing the norm.

I tell society:  if that were the case, then why is it that I have learned -

when I give you my flesh, it is not reward that I have earned?

For you examine it for the amount of melanin it contains,

its body mass index, the adipose tissue it has gained.

The amount of hair that has yet to be arranged and/or shaved,

the fingers that lay exposed, nail-beds unpaved.

The eyebrows – too unruly, too bushy, too united -

a chemical cocktail for those roots has yet to be indited.

I give you my flesh, but from you – what do I gain?

It’s time to conceal yourself in paint to recapture the essence of ‘au naturale’, babe!

First comes that face – that acne, black-head infested, uneven-toned face -

lay down the foundation in order to cover-up what doesn’t need to be erased.

Flawless.

Next, comes those eyes – it’s time to make them pop and look brighter, 

a cloak of shimmering dust, a wand to extend those lashes and voilà! – much more wider.

Voluminous.

Oh goody! Now that you’ve tamed those valuable units of expression,

let’s fill them, darken them, and slick them down – suspended in a solution.

Mysterious.

And let’s not forget those lips, all crackled and dry -

simply line and gloss them keeping two words in mind: ‘forever re-apply’.

Luscious.

And finally, that…hair?

Let’s tease, straighten, layer, curl, poof, constrain, dye, blow-out, pin-up, accessorize…and… there!

Perfect.

…but Society, once I did everything you dictated;

I was left feeling empty, unwanted, and frustrated.

I lived up to the standards that you created,

only to find my new clothes, hair, shoes, and makeup outdated.

Until I saw through the facade of the perfection you promised -

a lie so-often told, I mistook you for honest.

It was then that I realized my liberation would not come,

in accordance with your laws to which I had succumbed.

Instead it would require adhering to the laws of the One,

who prescribed a prescription that could never be outdone.

The key to acceptance was to first accept myself,

and to do so would mean to leave that product on the shelf.

And replace it with something much cheaper – and better for your skin, I might add:

A head-scarf; a piece of material folded, tucked, pinned and transformed into a hijab.

But to simply cover my hair and leave the rest of my flesh exposed,

would signify that you, Society, still pulled the ropes.

And so to complete the Commandment, over my body the fabric extended;

Neck, shoulders, arms, chest, hips, legs – all the places that YOU found offensive.

And with that, I achieved bodily autonomy in an instant.

The product of obeying my Lord has left my hair glowing;

My skin silky, my eyes bright – all without showing -

that which never belonged to you.

This material I wear is my empowerment, you see.

Because woven through every piece of this fabric is - Girl, you are FREE!

_______________

You can read more of  sister Ubah’s work at her blog:  www.seekingtobetter.blogspot.com

I recently came across an article posted by a friend on Facebook that had a picture of a woman wearing a headscarf and a full sleeved long dress that was very form fitting and clearly outlined her figure. She was standing next to her husband at a ceremony. The article was referring to how modest the woman looked in her hijab and how committed she was to her faith for dressing modestly while being in an atmosphere in which all the other women were wearing revealing gowns.

I could see that many of my female Muslim friends were reposting the link; and reading the comments on their posts, I noticed that their Muslim friends were praising the woman in the article for her modesty and saying that she was an inspiration to other Muslim women.  While I admire her courage and confidence to wear the headscarf and cover her body in such an environment, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed with the fact that the article was giving the wrong message to Muslims and non-Muslims because her dress did not meet the Islamic standards of hijab.

I debated on whether I should repost the link and share my opinion about it as I am aware of how hijab has now become such a sensitive and controversial topic. I was afraid I would be criticized and receive comments from people who disagree with me and that a heated discussion may arise from the post. However, I remembered that as Muslims it is our duty to remind and guide one another of what is right and wrong and so decided to go against my fears and post my opinion anyway.

As expected, I received several comments accusing me of being judgmental. I was also accused of backbiting and even received a comment from someone criticizing my own hijab.  Some of the comments, in fact, were so offensive; I decided to delete the entire post from my wall.

It saddens me to see how Muslim women are no longer open to accepting advice about hijab. While everyone’s hijab, including myself, can be improved on so many different levels, it does not mean that we cannot remind one another of the proper Islamic dress code. What I find most disappointing is how many Muslims nowadays automatically assume you are judging others when the topic of modesty is brought up. When I posted the link, I had no intention of judging the woman and did not criticize her faith in any way.  Only Allah (swt) knows what’s in her heart and I am fully aware that she could be a much better Muslim than I am, but that wasn’t the point. The point was the wrong image the article was portraying about hijab; and with my sincere intentions, I simply wanted to point that out.

The same goes for when we advise those who don’t wear hijab or don’t wear it properly. Just because someone reminds you of how Allah (swt) asked us to dress, it does not mean that they are looking down upon you; nor does it mean that they are judging you. It simply means that they are following their duty as Muslims by conveying Allah’s message and enjoining what is right and forbidding what is wrong.

Why is it that when it comes to advice about praying or fasting or any other form of ibadah (act of worship), we are open to it and never do we assume that the person giving the advice is judging our faith nor do we consider his/her intentions negative? On the contrary, we usually reflect on our ibadaat and try to make ourselves better. Why is the topic of hijab a different story then? Is hijab not a fard (obligation) like praying and fasting? Why do we consider speaking the truth of how Allah (swt) asked us to dress a form of negative judgment and make assumptions about the intention of the person giving the advice? If you think about it, when we make these accusations and assumptions, we are actually the ones being judgmental.

Keeping quiet about the truth clearly goes against the Islamic teachings, and as Muslims it is an obligation to advise our brothers and sisters. The Prophet (pbuh) said:  ‘The deen (religion) is naseeha (advice)’ [Muslim]. Therefore, we must keep in mind that we represent Islam and are held accountable for giving and accepting knowledge.

I understand that there are many Muslims who may advise others in an impolite or aggressive manner, but we should always give our brothers and sisters the benefit of the doubt and not so easily pass judgments about their intentions. We shouldn’t get angry with the way in which people advise us nor should we accuse them of things that may not be true, instead we should thank them for their advice and then kindly remind them of the correct manner in which a Muslim should speak to his/her brother or sister.  It could just be that your fellow Muslim does not know the correct techniques for giving advice, and it is your duty to address that by giving polite naseeha in return.

We are, of course, free to choose whether we want to accept advice or not, as Allah (swt) said: ‘Let there be no compulsion in religion’ (Qur’an 2:256), and the job of the person giving naseeha is only to convey the message and not to force it upon anyone. What we must not do, however, is promote what goes against Islamic teachings by stating our own opinion of what we perceive to be right.  When we do this, it means we are misrepresenting Islam by spreading misinformation.

In a lecture I once attended by Shaikh Khalid Yasin, he so beautifully phrased the importance of accepting advice. He said that humans are like upside down glasses: when we try to pour knowledge into their hearts, it never goes in; so we should turn ourselves right side up and allow knowledge to be poured into our hearts because we never know which drop of water might save our life.

So, my dear respected sister in Islam, please be more open-minded towards accepting the advice of our brothers and sisters who want what’s best for this ummah (Muslim community), because you never know which piece of advice could be the reason behind your guidance. I understand the struggles and temptations a lot of Muslim women go through and face nowadays and how difficult it may be for them to wear hijab or wear it properly; but if we cannot be more open minded towards changing our attitudes regarding accepting advice, then Allah (swt) will never open up our hearts and guide us.

I would like to end by saying that I am not a scholar, but a simple practicing Muslimah; and that the advice above is addressed to me before it is to anyone else. So, please accept this humble piece of advice from a sister who has the interest of the Muslim ummah at heart.  May Allah (swt) guide us all to the correct hijab. Ameen.

I remember perfectly that day as I anxiously walked down to the intimidating middle school I knew for years. I was in for my last year of middle school in eighth grade. I had entered with a new feeling that day; it wasn’t exactly terror, but a bold feeling as if I had defeated all of my fears with one simple choice. My insides churned with nervousness.

Warily, I entered the school and the whole world seemed to slow down as I walked closer and closer to the class doors, and approached the defining moment. The excitement rushed through my veins, while my heart pounded against my chest. Though I wouldn’t have been able to see my own change, it was about to be shown to my fellow classmates. It was difficult to guess what others would think of me when they would spot me, since there were so many possible responses. Nevertheless, I took one last brave step, and walked into the world of middle school –except this time it was with my head covered.

It was around mid-November when I started wearing the “scarf” or the hijab. Wearing hijab meant that I would have to wear it wherever I went in public. I would wear it in front of everyone except for women, close family members, and of course my husband.

When I first wore it, I would always get curious questions like: “Why do you wear the scarf? Was it your choice? Do you ever get to take it off?” Many more questions of interest would often come up. I soon came to realize that while some were keen to inquire about my hijab, others were scared. Nonetheless, I was honored to answer those who did bring their questions to me.

It was plain to me that I would get questions on my first day of wearing the hijab, but I never imagined I would get compliments on the first day of this new adventure. The fear that developed the moment I got to school that day was immediately wiped away when I saw my teachers and friends. The first thing my history teacher told me was, “That scarf looks beautiful. I love it!” She followed that with, “Are you wearing it permanently?” Bewildered, yet flattered I answered by saying, “Thank you! And yes.”

What my teacher said really helped boost my confidence. When I walked in the buzzing classroom, my friends immediately looked at me with amazement. They told me that I looked beautiful and different. I will never forget that moment and those very words. One of my Muslim friends who did not wear hijab even told me that I left an impression on her. What she said was the highlight of that inspiring day. Not only did I receive unexpected compliments on my new look, but also honesty and love.

As time passed, everything in my life changed. This new veil that protected me, not only reshaped my looks, but it had turned my heart in a new direction. My love for this new situation grew. It was a change that I molded with my very own hands. I also realized who my real friends were through this journey. They were those who didn’t care how I looked or what my decisions were. They were those who cared about my personality. Some friends said their goodbyes to friendships that I once thought were real. Some new friends came in to my life, bringing peace to this new rhythm I came to create.

This transformation also led me to become friends with someone who I still admire strongly and who will always be my best friend. She was also one of the people who encouraged me to wear hijab. This person, now married, taught me how to be a strong woman and how to be sincere. She taught me how to keep up with religion and life. The important goal was creating a good future and every woman has a right to make her own choices.

The ending of this journey was getting closer as the end of the year neared. The truth was out in the open. I came to know that this scarf not only bothered old friends I used to have, but even some of my own family. When I came face to face with a family member one day on a trip they laughed at the thought of wearing such a “disgusting” thing. “You live in America, you can’t wear that. You will be rejected by society,” they said. I wouldn’t really respond to them and mostly because I was too embarrassed to. My mind, however, swirled with replies. I often thought to myself, ‘Well of course! Don’t you think I would have thought of that when I first wore it?’

But why do I still wear it? The true reason is that it would be impossible to please everyone. If I were always caught up listening to what others think of me, how would I ever satisfy myself? How would I fulfill my dreams of success? How would I please Allah? These thoughts often came to mind even as I cried over the insults thrown at me and the embarrassment that I felt. These were the things I came to realize throughout that year.

These incidents entually led to even deeper questions:  “What is the purpose of hijab? Why do I still wear it even after all this trouble? How did I come to it?”  Honestly, every time someone asks me why I wear it, I wish to answer with a million statements. However, the ultimate reason that revolves around the purpose of hijab is modesty and obeying Allah.

And why do I want to attain modesty? One reason is that Islam encourages and promotes marriage between men and women, while dating is not allowed. So to protect her beauty and love for the one person that she will marry inshaAllah, a woman’s beauty and sanctity is fully guarded with the hijab. Further, in obeying Allah’s laws there are benefits and reasons we may not be aware of but it is ultimately for our own well-being.

How did I come to hijab? Well it was an enlightenment! As I finished my Maghrib prayer one evening, suddenly the idea of hijab popped into my mind. I thought of how it truly was a blessing from Allah. I was so happy with that inspiration that I suddenly got up and looked for all the scarves I had. I picked the one I wanted to wear the next day in school and that was it!

SubhanAllah, it was mainly a friend who always talked positively about hijab that influenced me very deeply. What I got out of wearing hijab was far beyond what my intentions were initially. I realized the importance of the impression you can leave on others hearts just by practicing yourself and making a difference in your life. I also learned that whatever actions you do to benefit yourself in this world is what really matters when you leave it. This is what my hijab means to me. It is the impressions that I’ve made on others’ hearts,  and mine, which I hope to take with me when I leave this world. It is like a hidden trace, a memory that will always be kept beneath the veil.

Image courtesy of 4seasons

Several months back I remember watching a group of niqabis and thinking to myself, masha’Allah how beautiful and graceful they look! I felt such an awe and respect for them. I adored them and aspired to be one of them. But worldly desires held me prisoner for a while.

A few months later, however, I joined their ranks alhamdulillah.

So one day I finally came to the decision to wear niqab fulltime and not just on my shopping trips as I had initially thought I would. I had gone back home for a while from where I live with my husband and daughter, and I felt uncomfortable from all the stares that I got when I stepped out of the house. With each outing my discomfort grew and grew until one day I had had enough with dealing with the stares and dealing with the guilt of displaying my face for these unruly strangers. Thus I, with the mercy of Allah subhnahu wa ta’ala turned to niqab, with encouragement from my mother and a prod from my husband, alhamdulillah.

With my niqab I felt at ease. I felt tranquil. I felt free. Free from the stares; free from the guilt. I felt I was doing a little more for Allah. And it is truly a remarkable feeling that you get when you reserve your beauty only for your husband to see. Wearing the niqab distances you from the dunya –you no longer care about so many worldly things that you thought were so important and it brings you closer to your Lord. When you change yourself for Allah, eventually your soul and heart turns to Allah too. The niqab all of a sudden made me feel respectful, graceful, modest and liberated. I became a free respectable woman, as Allah subhnahu wa ta’ala intended me to be:

Allah, The Exalted says: O Prophet! Tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the Believers to draw their cloaks (veils) all over their bodies. That will be better, that they should be known (as free respectable women) so as not to be annoyed. And Allah is Ever Oft Forgiving, Most Merciful. [33:59]

But that’s not to say wearing the niqab is without its challenges –which happens to be one of the reasons why I love it so much. I feel I am doing something for the sake of Allah that requires struggle. Wearing the niqab gets difficult when you are holding your crying baby in one hand and pushing a stroller with the other and you’re sweating and panting like anything. It’s challenging when you are having dinner outside, with your baby on your lap and it makes it impossible to eat without lifting your niqab all the way. It requires patience when you have a cold and are sneezing every five minutes and having to lift the veil just enough and get your handkerchief in place at the exact time. Even with nothing going on around, it gets plain hot, sweaty, exhausting, and often ends up giving me a headache.

During these apparent difficulties I always think of the women around the Messenger sal Allahu ‘alayhi wa sallam, back in the days before there were air conditioners or even fans; before there were cars or airplanes. If they could cover up in the heat of the desert and ride on a camel for hours without even ample water to quench their thirst, then what do I have to complain of? I think of the sisters in France and other places where it is against the law to wear niqab in a society that fears, rebukes and hates it. If they can still wear it, then why can’t I when Allah subhnahu wa ta’ala has made it ten thousand times easier for me? My difficulties seem trivial compared to theirs –like the difficulty I had in giving up all those pretty and colorful hijabs and hijab pins out there for which I am nuts!  Paradise has a price. When you think of Paradise you have no choice but to come to the realization that these tiny sacrifices are nothing compared to the magnitude of your reward, insha Allahu ta’ala.

 The Prophet salAllahu ‘alahi wa sallam said: A place in Paradise as small as the bow or lash of one of you is better than all the world and whatever is in it. [Bukhari]

The niqab also has many outward benefits which I have derived from my personal observations and experiences. It is a veil not only of your beauty but  many times of your emotional outbursts. It veils your anger, your smirk, your awkwardness, your sadness, sometimes even your tears. The watery eyes without the sad face to match are often overlooked by people. Plus, you can yawn at people’s faces without feeling the least bit embarrassed about it, and put your tongue out at people if the situation calls for it! You can trip, slip, and fall and not feel bad. –hey nobody saw your face! Nobody even saw you blush. You can make funny faces at your baby (who seems to get them and stops crying!) which you otherwise wouldn’t make in public.

Like with everything the niqab has it’s benefits and its difficulties. But thinking like a Believer there is benefit in both. As the Prophet  salAllahu ‘alahi wa sallam said:

“Wondrous are the believer’s affairs! For him there is good in all his affairs, and this is so only for the believer. When something pleasing happens to him, he is grateful, and that is good for him; and when something displeasing happens to him, he is patient, and that is good for him.” [Muslim]

On hindsight, now that I have taken that step, I find it puzzling that, out of all the commandments of Allah, wearing the hijab is probably the most discussed and often, the most resisted. I am making a broad assumption here – that sisters who are considering the hijab are more or less cognisant and accepting of the other commandments of Allah – such as prayer, fasting, abstaining from certain actions and are otherwise steadfast (or try to be). Hence, they accept the truth of Islam. Yet when it comes to complying with something related to appearance, there is massive hesitation.

The issue of hijab is one that many practising Muslimahs find difficult to implement. We do not see forums which discuss people’s personal journeys towards Salah, or journey away from backbiting, envy, stinginess or riba; these things are not extensively discussed, simply because we accept them as the absolute truth. There is nothing to discuss, and implementation is done on a personal level. One would be quite astonished to stumble across posts proclaiming that “for twenty years, I have understood the importance of charity, but resisted, and now I accept and just made a donation!”, or “Gossip free for 3 months now, Alhamdulillah!”

Yet, in the issue of hijab, it seems that extra persuasion and support is required.

I am not judging or criticising anyone, because I too resisted for the longest time. I figured out that if I could comply with most of the other commandments, then maybe I could get away with this one sin, and on the balance (literally speaking) my good deeds will hopefully mitigate the sins caused by my lack of hijab. Hence I went out of my way to somewhat over-perform in other aspects of Islamic behaviour in order to counterbalance and compensate. Of course, on looking back, I was trivialising the issue greatly. In my mind I was convinced. I sort of hoped for Allah’s mercy to let me pass through the eye of the needle.

Also I had never been a publicity seeker. Religion was a very personal thing to me, something to be practiced discreetly and in private. Wearing the scarf would be equal to shouting your affiliation in the middle of the street. It would draw unwanted attention towards you, put your private beliefs under public scrutiny and provoke reactions that you might not want to deal with. And, even though I lived in a Muslim society where the hijab was accepted and not seen as some sort of grotesque terrorist headgear, it was something that I would rather not do. Why wear my religious heart on my sleeve, when Allah knows the contents of my heart?

Deep down I also stereotyped and subconsciously assumed that hijabi sisters were wired differently – as if they were genetically designed with an inbuilt head covering from birth! Or taking it to a less ridiculous level – they didn’t care about their looks as much as I did, due to their better upbringing, lack of the vanity gene, or whatever other reason I concocted in my head – so it would be easier for them than it would ever be for me, to conceal their beauty.

Somehow the threat of hellfire and all the prescribed punishments did not instill sufficient terror in my heart as it should have. The human mind is amazing, it can sweep bits of information under the carpet and have selective amnesia on certain issues. I now recognise it as a lack of faith.

I could not compare myself to the first generation Muslimahs, whose faiths were so strong that if an order came from Allah, they would immediately submit out of sheer devotion and obedience. They were in a different league, and to me, constituted wholly unrealistic benchmarks.

Going to the other extreme, I looked at some of my hijabi friends and acquaintances. Their behaviour was rather bewildering; some of them did not perform the salat at all, others behaved with men in a pretty sordid manner, and yet others had weaknesses like being judgemental, racist and prejudiced. Not really the kind of people I wanted to be associated with, through dressing or otherwise.

The strange part was, if asked by a skeptical non-Muslim, I could take them from A to Z, of all the pro hijab arguments, and how this piece of cloth is not to oppress Muslimahs, but to elevate and protect them, how it prevents the erosion of modesty and chastity. Yet, every time I contemplated putting one on myself, I would hesitate. I rationalised and gave excuses. Surely Allah will understand that deep down, I meant well and behaved modestly? Is He not the Merciful, the Beneficent, the Forgiving, the Eraser of All Sins?

If some of you are cringing at this, then I know I was not alone in my thought process!

Hence I continued this way, convinced of my own warped logic. Until one day, as Ramadan was approaching I was asked something along the lines of–

“Are you sure that whatever good deeds you do will not be erased by the way your dress?

Are you sure that you have done enough good deeds to counterbalance your clothing?

Can you really be sure that all your efforts and good deeds are not being wasted?”

Now, those questions struck a chord, and I was stumped. Totally floored. There were no counter argument to these questions. The truth was, I did not know. No one knows. Only Allah knows the weight given to each sin and each good deed. We do not know how the “point system” works when the angels record our conduct. We do not know the gravity, magnitude and implications of each of our actions. If a prostitute is granted jannah for a single merciful act of giving a dog some water, then it demonstrates that Allah’s mercy is boundless and immeasurable. So can we be sure whether or not certain sins will be recorded on a similarly exponential level if we deliberately and continuously choose to disobey?

I realised I had been fooling myself into a false sense of security all along. Given the stakes involved (i.e. the final destination of my everlasting soul), that was one wild card that I didn’t want to take chances on.

Suddenly, my thought process accelerated. All the excuses that I had been giving myself over the years sounded hollow and unimpressive. I was willing to let my face be painted pink for a breast cancer awareness causes, follow the latest clothing trends, wear t-shirts and carry absurd banners of the teams, performers, causes that I believed in. I was willing to make a stand through my dressing in support of these things, and yet, was unwilling to do so for Allah? Why?

And the shame struck me. I realised that what held me back all the years was – I did not trust Allah enough to take this step!

Astaghfirullah. The One who had given me life, taken care of me all my life, given me sustenance, health, provision, contentment, happiness, intelligence, comfort, the One who I could always turn back to no matter how many times I strayed. The One who answered my prayers all my life, the One to whom I proclaimed during every Salah– “Verily, my prayers, my way of life, my life and my death, are for You, the Lord of the worlds …” and yes, the One who bestowed me with the very hair and body that I was too proud to cover.

I trusted Allah with my life, I trusted Allah to extract me from illnesses and difficult situations, I turned to Allah whenever I had problems, but did not trust Him to take care of me if I covered my hair and body to please Him?

The questions came thick and fast, and just as quickly, I knew, without a doubt, what the correct answers were.

Who cares if the other hijabi sisters did not behave well. Could I really use that as an excuse if questioned by Allah? Was what they did any of my business, as long as I did not follow suit? It would be like abandoning the Salah just because I had been affected by a minority of people who observed the Salah but behaved badly. And also, if others set high benchmarks of steadfastness and devotion, shouldn’t I at least try to emulate them instead of writing them off completely?

Was I ashamed to display my Islam publicly, hence the reluctance to don the scarf? Was I more concerned about what people thought of me, at the expense of disregarding Allah’s opinion of me? Would I deliberately disappoint Allah in return for all the favours He had given to me?

If I trusted Allah enough to know that all His commandments towards mankind are for our own good, was it my place to second guess whether or not the hijab would be suitable for me? Was a piece of cloth such a significant price to pay if it were to invoke Allah’s pleasure, get me closer to jannah and protect me from jahannam, insha Allah?

Realisation after realisation hit me like a hammer and demolished all the arguments and justifications I carried in an instant. And after that, there was no choice, really. It became obvious what I should do next, without prolonging it any further.

Alhamdulillah, with Allah’s guidance I have never looked back since.

Bismillah

Strange how we always stick out like a sore thumb in a crowd; strange how we are always the attention grabbers on media; strange how everyone thinks we are oppressed and don’t have rights; calling us “ninjas,”  illiterate, telling us to go back to where we came from. Strange how we always have to defend our identity and fight for our freedom. But isn’t it indeed strange how we sometimes get caught up in the midst of all this confusion, sometimes giving in, sometimes striving out?

Flashback into time, precisely 1433 years ago: in the companionship of the Sahabas and their successors, when the best of people walked this earth. These were people who believed, who supported, who followed, who heard, who obeyed, who loved and who sacrificed for the Messenger of Allah (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wa sallam). These were the successful ones –they were the strangers.

As the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) said in an authentic hadith, reported by Abu Hurairah (ra)

“Islam was strange when it began and will one day be strange again; Tooba for the Ghuraba ” [Muslim]

Islam came as a stranger and it will return as a stranger! So glad tidings to the strangers; and guess what?  It is we who are the strangers.

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Oh my dear sisters in Islam, it is high time we realized and rejoiced over this! That when you are the only one dressed modestly in your class, you are from the ghuraba . When you get the stares on the street, you are from the ghuraba.  When you have every reason under the sun to give up your hijab but you strive to maintain it, you are from the ghuraba. When people call you strange for being a Muslimah, say alhumdulilah because you are from the ghuraba, that you are from those who were given the glad tidings.

We should all want to be from the strangers. No doubt it will impact our lives: some will misunderstand but some will also support; some will turn away while some will also embrace. Some will discourage but some will also encourage.  Just remember that Allah (subhanahu wa ta’ala) will perfect His light (of Islam) and He will perfect it through the strangers. May Allah (subhanahu wa ta’ala) make you and I from among the strangers, from those who will be given the glad tidings and may He keep us steadfast when days of hardship arise.