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.

I was travelling from the UK to Nigeria with a layover in Paris, France, that year. As a “Black” Muslim woman who wears the niqab, I was highly apprehensive to say the least. I remember making a post on my Facebook wall a few days before my departure, asking if anyone had felt just as apprehensive as I, considering the strict Muslim bans in France, including that of the niqab. It was reassuring to know that their international airports made exceptions.

I don’t usually travel without my husband and/or children but, unfortunately, I had to go solo due to the circumstances at the time. To be honest, I, low-key, enjoyed the “me-time” in the sky. Travelling together with the kids is always a big hassle. My loquacious 6-year-old son doesn’t stop fighting with his 2-year-old brother, and I have to keep an eye on their 10-year-old sister to make sure she doesn’t watch unwholesome content on in-flight entertainment.

As I was travelling on a low budget, a business or first class ticket was totally out of the question. Even the economy class was expensive at the time because it was the peak of the summer holidays. However unpleasant I had expected my travel to be, it got worse before it got better.

D-day came when the flight was fully booked with not a single person wearing the hijab except I. I couldn’t even find any “Muslim-ish” guy around. Unperturbed by the glances from people of different colours and perhaps, different faiths or non-faiths, I moved straight to the window seat I had secured earlier. I fastened my seat belt and faced the window in readiness to see a clear view of the skies, سبحان الله.

However, I missed my husband. If I could have hired someone to stay with the kids for that period, I would have loved my husband to travel with me. Besides, that’s the sunnah. So, there I was, wishing that the person coming to sit next to me would either be my husband or a female.

A few seconds later, a tall, dark man, without uttering a word, plopped right down next to me. I wasn’t sure why he kept mute, but I am no fan of small talk either. So I kept quiet, too. He fastened his seat belt as instructed, blocked his ears with the headphones provided and tucked his neck in a travel pillow. We took off smoothly and the air hostesses started serving our meals.

I was served before my neighbour and as I was already famished, I started eating immediately. The hostess, a middle-aged, “white” lady, came back to serve the man beside me, but something unexpected happened.

The air hostess politely asked the man to follow her to an empty seat, elsewhere, so that I could feel free to eat my food. The man smiled at me for the first time and followed the lady.

I thanked him for being considerate and thanked the lady for being kind. I finished my food and stretched my legs across the two seats to have a nice sleep, because the man never came back!

We often hear stories of hijabis who were treated badly in public spaces. We get furious and take to social media to rant about it. However, it is refreshing to know that there are still people in the world who understand our preferences and treat us with the right dose of respect, or even a little more!

About author 

Khadijah Tijani is a Nigerian medical doctor, a creative blogger and a published author. She grew up in Ibadan, Oyo State and graduated from the College of Medicine at the University of Ibadan in 2009. After five years of practice in Nigeria, she relocated to Saudi Arabia where she worked as a resident physician in the Department of Obstetrics and Gynaecology. Known as “Doctor KT,” Tijani is a women’s health advocate and a prolific health blogger for her own blog, www.askdoctorkt.com. She also runs an online platform, known as “Breastfeeding Support Lounge,” where she supports mothers towards achieving their breastfeeding goals. Tijani is the published author of “Wholesome Motherhood,” “Nature’s Superfood,” and “The Stampede: Tales of Love, Trials and Faith.”

Twitter @askdoctorkt

Instagram @askdoctorkt

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“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.

Like many, I always waited for an “aha” moment before wearing the scarf. Until I realized that the moment I had been waiting for was simply the realization that I didn’t need one. So, despite living in a small Kentucky town and being the only Muslim in my school at the time, I began wearing the hijab on a seemingly random day at the start of 10th grade. Although it led me to stand out among those in my area, I got used to it, and that experience shaped me into the unapologetic person I am today. Alhamdulillah.

Today, my life looks quite different. It’s no secret that I love modest fashion and wearing the scarf is a large part of that. However, I want to stress that above everything, our priority is to wear the hijab because it is an obligation from Allah. Politics, fashion, etc.—all these matters have trends, yet if you prioritize wearing the hijab for the sake of Allah and use that as your reason to wear it with confidence, then when these trends change, they won’t cause your feelings toward your hijab to change along with them. Wear your hijab for the sake of God alone and it will act as your shield and be a blessing for you.

So to those who may feel isolated in their hijab journey as I once did—I get it and you are not alone. And regardless of what is trendy, what others may say to you, or how isolated you may feel, remember that with every hateful comment you can reaffirm your intention and get rewarded for that in shaa’ Allah and NO ONE can take that away from you.

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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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Switzerland SVP voted (52-48) to ban the niqab, a ruling which seems to only impact the 30-50 niqabi women in the country. The agenda is far more dangerous than just this one law. This issue, similar to the minaret ban in 2009, speaks volumes about the significant Swiss population who are anti-Islamic liberals who desire a “freedom of religion” with limitations for Muslims. The ridiculous justifications for banning niqab are: 1) it’s forced upon women, 2) it doesn’t assimilate well with Swiss culture, and 3) covering part of the face is a security concern.

As for the first reason, that’s preposterous and unsubstantiated. Women wear hijab and niqab by choice, and the issues within any family using social “force” or pressure are never dealt with by banning it for all women. In other words, women who choose to wear niqab for religious reasons can no longer do so because some Swiss perceive all Muslim women as oppressed? The issues of actual forced matters in Swiss families are never treated with bans, they’re treated by holding family members accountable in *actual* cases of abuse. That’s what courts are for.

As for reason 2: don’t claim freedom of religion and culture if you can’t liberally accept diversity. This is clearly an issue with immigrants and specifically Muslims.

As for reason 3: then perhaps face masks should also be banned? Niqabis are actually advised by scholars to comply with security personnel at times to remove their niqab for identification, but to prevent them from wearing it anywhere in society should be exposed for what it truly is: secular and liberal values in Switzerland are not truly liberal, and Muslims are not welcome with their diverse beliefs.

As for Muslims who don’t believe the niqab to be a religious obligation, it’s still of great significance to defend those who believe it to be obligatory. We defend it because of its valid (but minor) stance within Islamic law, as well as because the niqab ban is an attack on freedom of religion. Although it may not seem likely now, the banning of the niqab may one day lead to the banning of the hijab, particularly when many nations are more “liberalized.”

The post The hypocrisy of Swiss “liberalism” for all to see appeared first on World Hijab Day.

I get asked quite often why I reverted and what lead me to Islam? So I thought I’d tell you all.
I didn’t have a good start in life. I was abandoned in a crack house at  the age of 14 months. I was there for 2 days before I was found. I was passed around the care system for a while before I was placed with a loving foster Mom. I always yearned for my real mother; she was allowed to see me the 1st Saturday of every month, but she would never come. I’d be sad, waiting for her looking out the window. I would be heartbroken but my foster mom would always be there to hug me when I felt rejected.

At 14, I turned into a “wild child.” I started smoking, drinking, and hanging around with the wrong people. I started running away from home to my birth mother but she would reject me and shut the door in my face, but as always, my foster mom held me close and loved me.

At 17, I started going to the local pub. I was naive. I got pregnant with my son Dylan at the age of 17. I raised him alone. He is now 18 and has never met his dad. When I was 19, I met a Muslim man and got pregnant with Omar. His dad has always been in and out of his life. Omar is now 15. I spent most my 20’s feeling lost and unwanted, so I drank more, smoked more weed to forget about life.

Last year in September, I went to a 24 hr rave (party). I think I lasted about 18 hrs. I just sat in my room and cried and cried and asked God for help for strength, for guidance. I must have passed out from drinking. When I was awake a few hours later, I was overwhelmed with a feeling. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I had to do and for the first time ever, I felt strong enough. I detoxed my body. It took about 3 days. I was shaking and as I was detoxing myself and trying to better myself, I found out I had been betrayed in the worst way possible; stabbed in the back by people who I thought cared about me. I was devastated. All I wanted was a drink but I didn’t. I was so proud of myself.

Once I knew my body was clean from drink and drugs, I took my Shahadah (testimony of Islamic faith). Wow! Amazing! I was free. I felt new. I felt relieved that I would never pick up another drink. Islam to me is more than a religion. I believe it really saved my life.

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I reverted to Islam 2 years ago after being raised Catholic and being an Atheist for most of my life. I started to wear hijab when I was learning about Islam. I went permanent with it after I reverted. I love hijab because I feel like I share the purest version of myself with it and only my husband gets to enjoy the most intimate parts of my body. I have a complete control of who gets to see whichever parts I allow of my body. I feel most beautiful in hijab because I feel like my true soul shines through and I don’t have to display my bosoms, wear make up, or show off my figure to prove that I’m a valuable person. I never knew that I could feel so comfortable and beautiful until I started to wear hijab. Modesty is the most underrated form of beauty.

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I was born in Italy and in my city I was the first girl to wear hijab. It was a difficult moment for me to fit in a society where hijab is considered useless. I argued everyday with everyone about the importance of my religion. I was bullied and even isolated from the most in my city. It continued like that for 8 years. Then many Muslim girls followed me as an example and started to wear hijab. I am very happy that I took the initiative to wear the hijab there. Now I live in the UK, a place where Islam is praised and accepted by majority of population.

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When I first wore my hijab, I did it for fashion. I thought women in hijab look better than those who didn’t wear hijab. I admit I didn’t have much knowledge about Islam, then. I became a muslim through marriage. I was born Catholic. My parents were active members of the church. My conversion was a big blow to them.

Being a hijabi in my country is quite difficult. It made me feel safe but at the same time very much vulnerable. A lot of questions and eyebrows were raised. I experienced the discrimination that my fellow Muslim sisters felt.  That is why many Muslim women in my country do not wear their hijab.

Alhamdulillah (praise be to Allah), my husband has been very supportive. He taught me what I need to know and brought me to seminars of Muslim sisters. Not only was I able to answer questions around me (I am a teacher in a public school of mostly Catholics) but most of all, I was able to satisfy my hunger for knowledge about Islam. That was the  time I realized how important my hijab is. It became my strength, my identity, my constant reminder that I am a Muslimah (Muslim woman).  I should act and live like one. Most importantly,  I am a mere slave of Allah (SWT).

This will be the 5th year of me wearing the Niqab (face veil). I know that my struggle will never stop but as long as I am doing the right thing, with the RIGHT intention, I know Allah (SWT) will always guide me.

Now I can say that the Niqab that I wear is not for fashion but a passion for life, in’shaa’Allah (God willing).

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