Tuesday, January 31, 2012

A Journey


  By: Habiba Ghanem & Salma Amer

During the first week of my freshman year in college, I was waiting for my friend when I saw a girl pass by. I had recognized that girl from the sports club that I went to, her family usually sat near where my family used to sit. That day something was different about the girl, she was wearing hijab. I went to her and I asked her if she just started wearing hijab, she was surprised that I had noticed and she said yes, I congratulated her and she seemed touched and happy. A couple of minutes later I went to my last class of the day, and that same girl was in my class. Salma Amer and I have been friends ever since.
                                                                  
A couple of weeks ago, Salma and I met at a cozy cafĂ© in Zamalek where she started telling me the story behind her decision to wear the hijab. I got out my little notebook and started taking notes. I couldn’t help but smile really hard as I listened to her story.
                                                                    
Salma explained to me that she started considering taking the step of wearing hijab when her best friend started wearing it. She started to change the way she dressed, “I started wearing long sleeves, even though it was hot outside,” she said.

 At her cousins wedding Salma wore a spaghetti strap dress with a green and blue pattern, the dress came with a matching shawl. “I was wearing the shawl before I went to the wedding and I was planning on taking the shawl off once I got there,” Salma recalled. However, when she got there she didn’t feel comfortable taking her shawl off. One of her older relatives ended up taking the shawl from her but Salma was persistent to get it back.
                                                                       
During the summer right before her freshman year in college, Salma started trying wearing the hijab at home. Before her older sister went off on a vacation to Spain and Italy, Salma had asked her to get her some new clothes. When her sister would call her and tell her what she had gotten her, Salma would start to imagine what would work with hijab and what wouldn’t.
  
When Salma and her family went to the North Coast, Salma would swim at Le Femme or Yashmak. Both of those private beaches are places were women, hijabis or not can go swim.

One day Salma was switching through the TV channels when she stumbled upon Mustafa Hosney’s show “Khadaou’k Fa Kalou’’the episode was called Ana A7san Men Gheeri and it was  discussing hijab. “I found Mustafa Hosney tackling the things that seemed to always cross my mind,” Salma exclaimed to me. “Things like; what will people say, I can wear it when I am older, I don’t want to change the way that I dress.”

Mustafa Hosney responded to all of these thoughts and questions by asking; “If you are working at a place and there is a dress code, would you abide by it or not?” That is what hijab is, it’s a dress code for us Muslims, it’s a dress code sent to us from Allah, yet we have a hard time following that dress code but we can easily follow a school’s dress code, or work dress code, or even a party’s dress code.

“And concerning the 'I can wear it when I am older'excuse, I told myself that if I had any guarantee that I will still be alive by tomorrow then I can say I can wear it when I am older but unfortunately I had not. Also, I thought that having this idea in my mind and wanting to wear hijab  means that Allah wants me to get closer to Him and I will honestly be very stupid to miss this chance and get closer to Allah , who knows when will this chance come to me again and whether it will come to me again or not,“ explained Salma.

Mustafa started answering emails from viewers, one viewer sent an email that said, “I want to take the step of wearing hijab but I can’t take it, I need advice.” By coincidence the viewer that sent that email was also named Salma.

 At that point Salma’s heart started racing. Nothing had braced her for what was about to occur. That other Salma person was going through what she was exactly going through and she needed a push as well. Mustafa Hosney looked at the camera and started saying, “Ya Rab tet7agbi ya Salma.” His voice kept getting louder and he kept saying the same line over and over again. Tears flowed from Salma’s eyes as she heard his words.

“I remember yelling out at the TV screen: but I am in the North Coast right now, I don’t have the right clothes” Salma explained to me. At that moment, she couldn’t escape the signs and desire to wear hijab, “Allah was telling me, I chose you, I couldn’t say no,” she told me.

On the first day of the holy month of Ramadan, Salma went to her parents and confronted them with her decision. They had asked her if it was a sudden decision but she told them that it was something that she had thought about a lot. Her parents were supportive with her decision and didn’t have any doubts that her decision was very sincere. They sensed that this was a step that she really wanted to take, and they didn’t try to stand in her way. Later that day, Salma told her older sister. Her sister was thrilled with the news and she took Salma shopping for new clothes. They got cardigans that would go with the new clothes from Spain and Italy, and scarves to match her new outfits.

The next day Salma, went to Taraweeh prayers wearing hijab. She ran in to her second grade teacher and an old friend. Both of them praised her decision and were genuinely happy for her. Their reactions gave Salma a boost of confidence, and she was filled with joy.


A couple of days later, Salma and her family were invited to suhoor at their relatives’ house. This would be the first time her relatives would see her. Salma’s stomach was in knots. When she first walked in, the grownups were surprised but very happy and they all congratulated her. A younger relative had seen Salma walk in and ran to Salma’s two cousins who had not yet seen her. The little cousin started yelling to the girls “Salma ithajibit.”

“Salma who?” They kept asking. They then walked outside only to find that the girl the younger cousin was referring to was their very own cousin Salma. They looked at Salma with awe and they were ecstatic for her.

“Everything was going well, until one of my guy cousins walked in,” Salma said. He started cracking mean and uncalled-for jokes. But Salma didn’t let him get her spirit down. Thanks to God, she was calm and nonchalant to the jokes. What bothered her about the jokes was that she didn’t want to be labeled as an extremist, she was still the same person. She was just on a path to improve herself. She prayed to Allah to keep her on the right path and keep her firm on her decision.

The next day while she was checking Facebook, a friend of hers had written on her wall. She had congratulated Salma and she broke the news to her that she had also taken the same step. Her friend’s name was… “Sarah Nabil Saad,” Salma said to me.

I looked at her, “Omg Sarah! Our friend, Sarah!?”

She smiled at me and nodded her head. “After seeing that wall post I felt like I was given a push, someone that I knew, not only took the same step but on the same day! It was unbelievable,” Salma exclaimed.


Salma also recalled that she wanted to enter university wearing her hijab, she didn’t want to change her mind. “If I hadn’t taken the step then, then who knows what would have happened,” she said. From that day on Salma has worked hard to keep on improving herself. She always asks herself what the next step is, after figuring it out, she works at it. She checks to see if her actions in this world will correspond to deen (faith). Hijab to her and most girls is not just covering your hair, it is a way of life.

Before ending the conversation, Salma told me a line that she heard Moez Masoud say. Upon hearing that line, Salma was already a hijabi but the line was a reminder to stay firm on her beliefs. Moez Masoud was saying that when someone has the desire to improve an aspect of his deen (faith) that person should have the intention and remember that, “It really means to spend from what you love for the sake of Allah. True love is when you take out something you love and say I love you more and the proof of it is here.”


Tuesday, January 24, 2012

A Beautiful Secret

Salams Everyone,
  So this entry is a story written by my sister it was published in an online magazine called Muslimah Girl. If you would like to subscribe to the magazine please follow this link: http://muslimahgirl.com/?page_id=72 .
                                                                 Enjoy!


                                                             A Beautiful Secret 
                                                            By Mariam Ghanem

           “Dana you have such gorgeous hair mashallah,” Salma said as I smiled sheepishly. I let my hijab drop as I pretended to fix my hair in the mirror. From the corner of my eye I could see Salma fixing her hair as well letting her long curls flow beautifully over her shoulders. I let out a small sigh and stared at myself through the mirror, listening to the small whispers: I’m just as pretty as Salma, I could even be prettier. There’s nothing wrong with my hair, if only…
 
          I let out another sigh, this one was louder and Salma turned to look at me. I smiled weakly as I wrapped the hijab back over my hair and stared at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t that I felt ugly wearing hijab, on the contrary, I believed it maintained my beauty, however there were days when all I wanted to do was go out and show people that I had more to offer. The feeling came on days like these when all my friends and I decided to go out for dinner and maybe take a stroll through the city streets and stop for ice cream somewhere. I was the only one of my friends who wore hijab and on nights like these it was perfectly clear. Everyone looked beautiful in their dresses and high heels, while I opted for a long skirt and ballerina flats.
            
           I had become an expert at hiding my moody ways so I smiled at the appropriate moments, offered my fair share of good jokes and stories, and complimented everyone as enthusiastically as I could. Throughout the entire evening the whispers grew louder and louder until I finally excused myself to use the restroom. I stood over the sink and tried to keep my balance as I felt my entire body get consumed with the agonizing, pathetic murmurs of a tormented girl that I fought daily. But I didn’t want to fight anymore, so I slowly started to take off my hijab. I let my hair fall down my back and watched my vision blur as the tears began welling up in my eyes. She was beautiful.
 
             As my vision cleared up again I realized something so obvious that I had to catch my breath before my brain could sort it out. I looked at the stranger in the mirror and realized that not only did I not know this girl standing before me, but I also felt no desire to share her with the world. I wiped my tears slowly and stared back at the girl in front of me, “You, my friend, are very beautiful. But no one needs to know that, you’ll be our little secret.”
 
            “Hey Dana,” Salma said as she walked through the door. “Are you okay?”
            
             I turned and smiled widely at her, “I’m absolutely perfect, Salma, just perfect.” The words came out with so much truth to them that I almost cried again. As we all walked out of the restaurant I could see my reflection in the glass and it was difficult for me to contain my laughter as I realized that I was a beautiful secret, the one that Allah had bestowed upon me with all the trust in the world. My heart was the only beauty people needed to see, and frankly that sufficed. I am a beautiful secret.



Sunday, January 22, 2012

In Search Of My Identity

                                                            By: Sarah Nabil Saad

My life was a mess, and I chose to be oblivious to it.  I ignored the fact that my companions in life were wrong for me.  I gave no attention to the deteriorating relationship with my family.  But most importantly I chose to ignore that I lacked a relationship with Allah. I went on with my life, thinking that this is what I wanted, this is what made me happy. And for 16 years I believed this lie.  The story of my Hijab is something I would like to share with all of you in hope that if somebody out there is going through something similar, it would help them in some way.

I lied, I sneaked, I cheated, and I did so many things that took away my label as a Muslim girl.  Yet from time to time I decided to pray once, or go to a dars …but none of it ever touched my heart.  My family was pious, and they tried to do everything to make me go on the right path, but I was the bad apple…and I insisted on staying that way. Why? I always tried to avoid that question. It might have been because I believed I had too much to lose in trying to be religious, or simply because I was just afraid that if I did try to be good, I would realize how astray I had been my entire life.  The thought of that scared me to death.

I don’t know why it happened on that night, but it did.  It was late September and I was in the middle of huge fight that I didn’t even how these girls, that called themselves my friends, got me into.  I was betrayed, backstabbed and hurt in every single way possible.  And I sat in my room and for the first time I though “How did I even get here? How did I let my life become so messed up? How did I lose sight of my purpose in life?”
With a pang of pain, I realized that I had no idea where I was going in life.  For the first time I let myself see the truth that I had been trying so hard to bury.  The way I was living my life, the way I was treating my family, would get me nowhere in life…but more importantly it would get me nowhere in the afterlife. My actions, my words and my thoughts were against so many things Allah had ordered me to do. I shouted at myself “When will you get yourself together and start living this life the way you are supposed to, in the way that Allah has ordered you to???!!!”

And there it came, that rush of adrenaline that turned my life around.  I got up, did wodoo’ (ablution) and truly prayed for the first time in 16 years.  The tears flowed uncontrollably and on that night I was reborn.  I listened to over five tapes of Amr Khaled that had been in my room for so long, untouched, that they were covered in layers of dust.  They were about the many aspects of Islam and life that I had forgotten about.  I cried through the night, with every word I listened to more tears would flow.  They were tears of happiness for finally seeing the right path, but tears of sadness to how long it had taken me to see it.  And through that year, every aspect of my life had changed.  I prayed, with my mind and soul feeling the connection with Allah.  I became good to my family, which I realized came naturally with the effort of trying to be good with Allah. I even started dressing very decently with long sleeves and loose wear.  But on that checklist that I was moving through so well elhamdliallah was one challenge that seemed impossible to do: wearing Hijab.  I just couldn’t do it in spite of my clothes nearly being that of a girl with Hijab, I just didn’t have the guts to do it.  I kept telling myself that I am taking things step by step…and eventually I would wear it.  But then passed half a year, and then a year…and I had still not gotten to “that step”.  I was afraid.  I was afraid of people’s perception of me…I was afraid of what my friends back in Sweden would think of me…how I could no longer do my hair.  Would people still love me, would my friends accept me? Pathetic questions, eh? But that is the truth. That is what the shaytaan makes you think of, that’s how he impedes you from doing the right thing.  I made du’aa in every sojod, “Allahuma 7abeb kalby lle Hijab we 7abibny le” ("Oh Allah please allow my heart to love the Hijab and allow me to love it"), but it just wasn’t working.  That moment wasn’t coming.

“I can’t do it Mum, I just can’t”

It was the fourth day of the first Ramadan after my rebirth and I was sitting with my mother.  I had asked her to listen to my reasons of why it was so hard for me to take that step and help me.  I wanted her to refute every single excuse. But she didn’t even have to. She said something in the beginning that I will never forget.

“My dear, I see how you have been improving in your deen (faith) by taking things step by step.  It is a good way to make these things last with you.  But don’t you think there should be a time limit for each step? Don’t you think that believing you will wear Hijab “when it feels right” coincides with the cycle of life? If you can guarantee me that you will be on earth tomorrow and still have time to get the” when it feels right” moment then go ahead and wait.  But I believe it’s you that makes the “when it feels right” moment, it doesn’t just happen.”

                 And she was right. I took the decision that day, and when I did, it felt like the perfect moment, not just the right moment. I realized that it wasn’t about waiting for it to happen for you or waiting for “el wa7y yegelek” (“That right moment”), it was about doing it and knowing that when you do, Allah would make you feel it.  Once I took the decision I couldn’t even remember all the lame excuses I had, and all I kept thinking was “what on earth was stopping me from finding my true identity.” That’s what my Hijab became for me, my identity.  It is who I am, what I do.  I had never felt freer. My Hijab will always be my way of life.   


Friday, January 20, 2012

From Panic to Pride

                                                           By: Menna Fateen

         "Is your father forcing you?" "Do you like it?" "Is it hot in there?"
These questions used to irritate me. They got me tongue-tied. They made me feel as if a lemon had wedged itself in the middle of my throat. If these people really supported liberty, why couldn't they just leave me alone?
        But, now I take pride in my hijab. It's my liberation, my shield and my protection. This piece of fabric is what makes me who I am. It brings me closer to Allah. Without my hijab, I'd feel insecure and unprotected. I now see myself as a precious jewel that should be protected so that nobody would steal it. No one would go bragging about a diamond, right? At least if that person doesn't want it to be stolen!
Muslim girls are diamonds. They're protected and only shown to precious people. I thank Allah that He has guided me to this safety.
        So Sister, you're a jewel, you're a valuable diamond. You're a ruby. Remember that.