The decision to wear a hijab alone is scary in today’s world. When the hijab is “amplified” by the niqab or face cover, it’s nerve-racking at first.  While there are so many platforms to talk about the prejudices hijabi women face, not many niqabi women have yet spoken about their individual experiences, so here it is:

From both Muslims and non-Muslims, I get questions like, “What’s the meaning of taking pictures when we can only see your eyes?” or “Why bother leaving the house if you have to cover so much?” Little by little, in everyday situations, comments like these eat up my energy.

However, maybe these reactions come from not understanding the etiquettes of how to treat me. Here are six suggestions from me, a niqabi, to my brothers and sisters, Muslims and non-Muslims…whoever wishes to make me feel welcome:

1.If you are planning a lunch or dinner where a niqabi is invited, please make sure to set up an arrangement where she can eat in peace, without any males in sight. This is one of the most common and awkward circumstances. People welcome me by saying, “Come sit, come eat!” And I wonder, how can I politely refuse to open my niqab in front of these gentlemen? And then, there are those over-enthusiasts who tell the men, “Hey get out of here, she needs to eat!” That just makes me want to crawl into a tent and never visit them again.

2.All you need as a host is to simply find a corner for “sisters only.”  Even many sisters who don’t wear niqab or hijab may prefer to eat only with other sisters.  The host can simply say these corners will be for sisters and the brothers will most likely understand.

3.If you are asking to take a picture of me, do not expect me to reveal my face for it. I won’t know which pictures will end up on whose social media and for what public. The niqabi likes her privacy and prays that you respect it. Also, some sisters, niqabi, hijabi or not, might just not like taking pictures.

4.Just like hijab or any other clothes, niqab can be worn in a variety of different styles. These styles can also be influenced by cultures, comfort levels and/or personalities. I, for instance, wear niqab with colorful dresses and stretch the corners of my hijab to form a niqab. There are women who choose to wear only black and tie a separate cloth over their mouth. There are people who wear jilbab or chador like in Iran, or a blue over piece like in Afghanistan. No style, in any shape, form or philosophy, is more superior over the next.

For example, I have been told to only wear black because it is considered most “pious.” Others might consider another color because black niqabs are associated with extremists…terrorists.  I know many Afghan sisters who love and adore cultural garb, but are too afraid to wear them out of fear of how they will be treated. Niqab is part of me. It represents my taste, culture, creativity and my faith, but I am not wearing it to prove my “level of piety” to anyone, but to Allah.

5.Wearing niqab doesn’t mean we have to maintain a specific and identical code of conduct. Some sisters do speak to the opposite gender while others do not. Some avoid public gatherings while others attend them.

6.You can talk to me, get to know me, the person behind the veil. As a result, my niqab might or might not make more sense to you, but my personality will transform the way you see me.

I have always been this outgoing person and being a niqabi empowers me. I feel like this superhero whose face no one can see, but I’m looking out for everyone else. I feel like a princess in her ornamented carriage whom the commoners can’t sneak a peek at. I feel like a VIP hiding herself from the paparazzi. Regardless, tackle prejudices especially when inviting a niqabi over:

“And hold firmly to the rope of Allah all together and do not become divided. And remember the favor of Allah upon you – when you were enemies and He brought your hearts together and you became, by His favor, brothers.” Surah Al-Imran:103

About author 

Sumaiya Rabeya is a researcher and content writer. She is the co-founder of a Malaysia-based media-production company. Sumaiya is also a community volunteer, actively working on various projects related to Islamic dawah, social engagement and women. Born in 1989, she graduated with a degree in Politics and International Relations and is currently pursuing her Ph.D. in Gender Studies. Moreover, she has been working as a media content writer for over a decade. As a Bengali young mother, she feels responsible in creatively contributing to society.

The post The Six Etiquettes of How to Treat Me appeared first on World Hijab Day.

“Why do you hate me?” I was caught off guard with that question. I looked toward this 20 something-year-old man, whom I had known for about a year. He was the supervisor in charge of assigning cleaners to my home. The cleaners were girls so I did not cover my face with a niqab around them. But, when their manager came to pick them up, I always stepped aside to put my niqab on and then, casually converse with him.  He noticed this before, but never mentioned anything or asked any questions. However, when my mother was visiting me one time and upon seeing the man, scurried off into another room, he became utterly disheartened. “Why do you hate me?” He asked. “Why do you hide your face when I come? Your mom doesn’t even want to say ‘Hi’ to me. Is it because I am not Muslim? Do you guys not talk to people who are non-Muslim?”

“No, no. Because you are a guy,” I said. He looked puzzled.  His prompt question gave me new insight into things. It made me realize how, as a niqabi woman, I held the entitlement that everyone should be aware of my practices and respect my choices by default!

I started my niqab when I was a teenager. And the attacks werealmost immediate. As a super ambitious girl, it was frustrating to keep proving my self-worth only because I had an extra layer of clothing on me. I had to amplify my self-confidence as my self-defence. However, ٱلْحَمْدُ لِلَّٰهِ‎ as I tried to defeat one hurdle after another, my self-confidence boosted, but unfortunately, transformed into fragments of arrogance. Every encounter in a non-familiar environment was a war. I needed to win, I needed to make them accept me. This journey made me lose a very crucial element of my faith: empathy. I forgot that not all people are ignorant, some simply…don’t know.

Recently, a hijabi friend of mine shared with me her experience of talking to a man who was practicing his full hijab, that is lowering his gaze while talking to her. And it made her uncomfortable. See, how do we women feel when the table is turned?  Are we really accepting the other gender, the men who practice their full hijab? Do we feel uncomfortable if a man stares down while talking to us because we are not used to or familiar with it? That may give us a taste of our own medicine. Men or women from other faiths may feel uncomfortable with our hijab/niqab. And we need to accept that with empathy, not as bigotry. As practicing people, we have a bigger responsibility to be more understanding. To deal with such incidences with care and knowledge. Once I took the time to explain my reasons to move aside and cover up, the man was not only humbled, but also amazed and perhaps, when he encounters another niqabi next time, his approach will be more different and more gentle. Therefore, we need to pack our vocabulary with words people can understand and associate with. After all, we people are, subconsciously, a team, learning how to communicate with and understand each other.

In fact, it is written in line 34 of “Surah As Sajda,” in the Qur’an, “And not equal are the good deeds and the bad. Repel [evil] by that [deed] which is better, and thereupon the one whom between you and him is enmity [will become] as though he were a devoted friend.”

Empathy is faith and faith is empowerment.

About Author

Sumaiya Rabeya is a researcher and content writer. She is the co-founder of a Malaysia-based media-production company. Rabeya is also a community volunteer, actively working on various projects related to Islamic dawah, social engagement and women. Born in 1989, she graduated with a degree in Politics and International Relations and is currently pursuing her Ph.D. in Gender Studies. Moreover, Rabeya has been working as a media content writer for over a decade. As a Bengali young mother, she feels responsible in creatively contributing to society.

The post Why Do You Hate Me? appeared first on World Hijab Day.

Women in Islam are thought to be subjugated, degraded, oppressed – but are they really? Are millions of Muslims simply that oppressive or are these misconceptions fabricated by the bias media?

The niqab (face veil)  to me is liberating and dignifying. It gives me strength and freedom.

I wear the niqab as a personal act of worship and I deeply believe it brings me closer to God.

Often, Muslim women are seen to be oppressed due to the hijab and niqab, but that’s not the case; more than anything, we’re free!

As Muslim women, we need to be modest and should not be chasing validation or approval from others. But being modest doesn’t mean you are restricted from living your life as long as you are following the right steps in life.

Many people think when you practice the hijab or niqab, it’s been forced. But that’s not the case, as in our religion, you can’t force anything; it has to come from the heart.

There are some challenges when it comes to the outdoors and hiking due to these misconceptions —that Muslim women are oppressed, strict, boring and extremists —but in-fact, they are the opposite. Automatically, I am seen to be an extremist or strict, when in reality, I am just a normal average down to earth Muslim girl.

When you do certain activities such as mountain climbing, running, water sports, etc., they are glorified, yet it becomes questionable when it comes to someone who wears the niqab. Do people really think that women who wear the niqab suddenly have no personality, hobbies, or lack having fun?

Let’s forget about race and religion, but being a female, there are many misconceptions such as you are unable to achieve things because you are not strong enough. These stereotypes need to be broken.

These misconceptions not only come from non-Muslims, but also from Muslims. There is a lot of pressure for you to be perfect and your mistakes seem to get magnified more. People wait for us to make mistakes just because we are implementing the hijab. Veiling doesn’t make us perfect. We are still on the same journey as every one else. As long as we adhere to our religion, embrace your dreams and passion.

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Thank you so much for allowing me to have this wonderful experience. I often cover my hair (it started from me being cold a lot, but now I am more comfortable that way), but wearing the Hijab for a full day was wonderful. I was very busy on WHD, but I did notice that I got a lot of respect and was treated better in some situations. Someone did tell me to “go home terrorist” when I was at a rest stop on my way to visit family in NY, but that was one ignorant fool. I thought it would become uncomfortable after a while, but I was not uncomfortable at all and I really felt beautiful and confident. I hope to get more people I know involved next year.

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“Like it or not, you will need to wear something like these when you are older.”

 I was born in Depok, Indonesia. I always loved my parents and fully respect them – Islam being the biggest influence making me respect my parents so much. By the way, Allah The Almighty really had commanded us to respect. I had always listened to their every words, doing what they wanted me to do and not doing the ones they said are not supposed to be done. Most of the cases they were right, but in all respect to my parents, they were wrong about one thing: Hijab.

My mother did not wear hijab. My father was trying to convince my mother to wear it, but as my father didn’t know much about Islam himself, he eventually stopped. Or at least that’s what I know. My last name combined with my middle name, Sekar Tanjung, means one thing: to be a famous, well-known person. Even since birth my mother had wished me to be a well-known person at some point in my life, and she was serious about it. She took me into some model agencies, and drove me all the way to Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia, for me to go on many, many auditions for advertisements. Be it TV ads, printed ads (like in-magazine ads), billboard ads, and anywhere else she could drive me to. Not only me, my little brother was also on this. After going to auditions here and there, I really got into some advertisements. I couldn’t find all of them on the internet, but I have one from when I was in first grade of elementary school. It was an advertisement of a toothbrush. This is the link to the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YJWuSJrSDQ and the little girl in the ad was me.

Just before I got my first menstrual period, I told my father who was a kind and loving man, “Papa, after my first menstrual period I want to immediately wear hijab,” and my father was truly pleased with what I said. However, when I went to my mother and told her the same thing, she said, “What are you talking about? You are not going to stand wearing that on your head all the time – and eventually you are going to remove it anyway. So no, you are not going to wear that.”  I knew right away the reason why: if I wear hijab, who would give me a role on any ads? Nobody would, of course.

Back then I was in fourth grade. If mother says no, then no, that’s it.

But when I got to middle school, I found a book about hijab, basically answering women’s doubts on whether to wear hijab or not. I remember there was a section on the book, titled “What if my parents don’t want me to wear it?” and the book’s answer was simple and logical: Your parents are to be respected, and that is very clear in Islam. However, if they are straying you on the wrong path, to whom will you turn back into on Akheerah (Day of The Judgement, the Apocalypse)? And I was screaming inside, “This is it. This is what I expected to hear.”

But then I had another obstacle. My father was too busy with his work, so even if he was the one who made the money, my mother was holding onto it. If she doesn’t want me to wear hijab, how can ask her to give me the money to buy hijab? I couldn’t work that out. Dead end. That’s it – I will have to wait until I make my own money someday, I thought.

My thought of that became even stronger as when I was in the 8th grade, my mother came into my room and gave me two short skirts she just found. She told me she used to wear those when she was younger and slimmer, and she told me to wear those skirts once it fits on my hips. Even though I was not wearing hijab, I had always been disgusted with the thought of wearing short skirts. I don’t care if people want to wear it, but for me, it’s a no-no. I mean, what if you go to a public place, get on a public transportation, sit down, and there are some strangers who could peek into your skirt while you sit? I was young, but I have seen women wearing short skirts on public transportation and trying to cover their private parts with their bag or purse, and that thought alone made me said, “No, I will never wear something like these, Mama.” Turns out that I made my mother upset, and she said, “Like it or not, you will need to wear these [kinds of skirts/clothes] when you are older.”

My mother is a very brave woman. She went from her hometown in another island, all the way to Jakarta when she graduated from university. Arriving in such a big city, she was bewildered by the hustle and bustle, by how much busier and more dynamic Jakarta was, and on top of that, by how difficult it was to find a job. In her hometown it would have been much easier to find a job, or at least that’s what she told me. She went here and there looking for jobs, and ended up with jobs that didn’t really have anything to do with her degree – which is still happening to many people now. Anyway, she fully understood how difficult it was to find a job, and she didn’t want me to experience the same thing. Doesn’t matter how much I hated being in the car right after school, having to go here and there in Jakarta to find pieces of hope on becoming a child actress, I am now fully aware of the fact that there was a big love behind my mother’s action. She wanted me to become an actress, not just because she wanted me to be famous, but rather because famous people have a prestige of getting money easier than the rest of the humanity. She wanted me to live a good, secured life. That’s all.

But for me – no, I would not buy Dunya with Akheerah. I don’t want to buy what has been said to be a good, secured life, by sacrificing my commitment to Allah – the One Who Owns The Here and The Hereafter. My commitment to God himself, who made everything possible in this world. As a believer, that is too much of a price. You just can’t ask for any worse than that. And yes, those thoughts came from the middle-school me. It will always be my life principle, InsyaAllah.

For some reason, my mother finally considered to wear hijab. Not long after, she started wearing hijab until now, Alhamdulillah. Then, the easy part that once had been so difficult to do came to me: asking my mother to buy hijab. She said yes to my will of wearing hijab, and I wore it for the first time to school on 9th grade, just before I faced the Graduation Exam to graduate from my middle school. For your information, middle school in Indonesia starts from 7th grade and ends on 9th grade, when students will take the Graduation Exam in order to graduate.

Until now, Alhamdulillah – Thank God – I have been wearing it everywhere I go. Now here I am, being an exchange student with full scholarship, as an ambassador of Indonesia in USA, and moreover, being a representation of a Muslim in my community. Something that I had never imagine would be possible to be done – something that would not happen without His Will, Allah’s Will.

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