By Sana A. Faqir
I was 14 years old when I decided I was ready to wear the hijab. Having worn it through the summer break, I knew I wanted to start wearing it to school. I didn’t anticipate any obstacles, other than the nerves of facing my classmates and teachers in the new attire.
On the first day of term, I got my parents to write a letter to the principal, as a matter of courtesy. On my way to morning assembly, I stopped by the principal’s office to deliver that letter. It was only upon seeing the utter rage on his face, that my stomach churned with the thought that my wanting to rock my beautiful black headscarf at school might become a problem. Nevertheless, I handed over the letter and entered the assembly hall. Following the assembly, I was summoned to the vice principal’s office. A lady with a significantly gentler manner than the principal, she had been tasked with delivering his difficult message: this was a Christian school, thus any “overt symbols” relating to another religion were not allowed on school grounds. I was told to either remove my hijab or be suspended.
I was confused. This was a school in which I was free to fast during Ramadan. In fact, there was a dedicated room where Muslim students could go during lunch hour during Ramadan. Packed lunches were handed out to allow us to break our fast in class. Islam was taught in Religious Studies lessons. What was so overt about this one religious symbol that deemed it unacceptable?
Recent events as in the abaya ban in France got me thinking about this question again. Over two decades later, in a world where there is more acceptance of an individual’s life choices, in one of the biggest democracies in the world, why is this particular choice being forcibly removed from female students?
A quick look at history told me that this wasn’t the first time that women’s dress code became subject to controversy. In ancient China, for example, the practice of foot binding was imposed on women to conform to an ideal of small, delicate feet. A practice which severely restricted women’s mobility yet they continued to bear with it. During the Victorian era, corsets were worn by women to attain the fashionable hourglass figure. These tight garments not only restricted women’s physical comfort but also served as a symbol of women’s submission to societal beauty standards. Suffragettes in the early 20th century often faced ridicule and criticism for wearing clothing that was considered ‘unfeminine.’
Each of these examples has one common factor; decisions taken for women by their particular ‘society,’ i.e. men. Who gave men the authority to decide how women should dress and what the standards of beauty should be? Nobody. They probably realised that if women were kept busy in how they looked, they would have no time or brain space to question anything around them. And in the case of the Suffragettes, when women did try to stand up for important matters, men used that same criticism to distract from and delegitimize their cause.
Enter- the modern Muslim woman who chooses to wear the hijab. Not because any man or woman has asked her to (yes, there are societies where this happens too), but because she has chosen to. She has weighed up the need to bow to societal pressures against the requirements of her Creator, and decided that her Creator is more important. In short, she has decided to live her life by the following verse: “…Indeed, my prayer, my rites of sacrifice, my living and my dying are for Allah, Lord of the worlds (Surah Al-An’am, 6:162).” It is an empowering reminder that she does not take instructions from anyone but her Lord.
She has braved hiding her beauty behind her hijab because she is satisfied with the status Islam gives women. Her role models include Khadijah bint Khuwaylid, the first female Muslim, an extremely successful businesswoman, who was busy shattering glass ceilings at a time when the rest of the world thought girls should be buried alive. Another inspiration is Fatimah al-Fihri who founded the oldest university in the world (as recognized by UNESCO), when educating women wasn’t on anybody’s priority list. The world remembers these women, not for their beauty or their clothing, but for their contribution to society. This is what the hijab-wearing woman of today wants for herself.
Her beauty is now not up for discussion, in the same way it was never up for discussion for her male counterparts. Wait a minute. Perhaps it wasn’t the religious symbolism that scared them after all. Perhaps, it was the feminism.
About the Author:
Sana A. Faqir was born and brought up in Scotland, UK and spent a number of years living in Dubai with her husband and 3 children. Now back in Scotland, Sana has placed her legal career on hold to pursue her long-standing dream of writing children’s books. She hopes to inspire both Muslims and non-Muslims through her writing. Sana is also the Coordinator of an annual Islamic book fair in Scotland. Sana’s aim is to ensure that Muslim kids in Scotland find representation in the books that they read.
Instagram and Facebook: @sana_a_faqir
Twitter: @SanaFaqir