By Raquiba Huq
It was the summer of 1996. My life seemed perfect. School was almost over, and I had an exciting vacation ahead of me. That year, I had been selected to take part in an overseas program. Convincing my parents to let me go had taken a lot of time, hard work, and waiting. Eventually, though, they reluctantly agreed to let me go on the trip. We went to informational meetings, paid the fees, and told everyone I was going. That's when my mother decided to change her mind.
In June, one month before I was supposed to leave for the trip, my mother realized she could not handle the idea of my going overseas for three weeks and staying with people she did not know (the trip included 'home stays' in which students would stay with a local family for a few days to get to know the country's culture better). I was devastated. I had been looking forward to this trip the whole school year. Still, there was nothing I could do. I went ahead and enjoyed my summer vacation anyway.
I did not forget about the trip, though. Later that summer, I eagerly called one of my friends who had gone on the trip to see how it had went. At first, she spoke of the beautiful sights she and the other students had seen, and how nice the people there had been. I could not help feeling a bit jealous. Then, however, my friend started to talk about how all the students had had numerous late night parties in each other's rooms and how they had been drinking when they weren't supposed to.
I was stunned! Was this what I had been so depressed about missing? Now I was no longer jealous but relieved. How would I have coped with the situations my friend was describing Being a Muslima, my friend's "fun" adventures seemed atrocious to me. I began to seriously think about my identity, what I believed in, and what I wanted from life. I wondered why I had shed tears over not being allowed on the student ambassador trip. Hadn't I subconsciously known that there would probably be awkward situations like parties and guys and girls being in the same hotel room, even drinking perhaps?
Hadn't I secretly worried about how I was going to say all five prayers on time with the constant traveling we were going to do? The fact that I had still wanted to go troubled me. I decided to reassess my "religiousness." I wanted to be stronger in my faith and loyalty to Allah (SWT). And I wanted others to know that as well.
I already prayed five times a day. I fasted, finished the holy Quran, wore long sleeves and long pants, everything. But something was missing. I was lacking a "connection" between my faith and me. I needed a way to show my inner faith outwardly. That way, I would be complete: a Muslima inside, a Muslima outside. This way, I soon realized, was through hijab. This realization wasn't easy to make. Sometimes, even if one knows something is right, one shies away from it, brushes it aside, or says, "I'll think about it later.' That's how I felt about the hijab at that time. Deep in my heart, I knew it was right; I knew it was what Allah (SWT) wanted. But I was worried about certain things; things that seem trivial to me now. How would my friends react? How would I manage wearing a scarf on my head during the summer? I could not deal with these questions, so I turned away from them.
Then one day, my family had a dinner party at our house. We had invited a family who had just moved here, whom we had never seen before. When the doorbell rang, I answered it, and was surprised to see that the mother and daughter of the new family were wearing the hijab. Rarely had I seen our friends wearing the proper hijab - not just some flimsy "orna" thrown over their heads. My mind had already started to contemplate the hijab question once more. Was this a sign? Should I start wearing the hijab? After a few weeks of serious thought, I discovered that my heart's answer to that question was: "Yes!"
Deciding to wear hijab had been hard, but now came the harder part: actually starting. I approached my parents the night before I wanted to begin. I told them I wanted to start covering my hair. At first, my father thought I had said I wanted to start curling my hair, so he was confused as to why I was so serious about the matter. I explained again, and my parents were very supportive of my decision. Afterwards, as I went to bed, I prayed to Allah (SWT) to give me the strength and courage to wear my hijab confidently and properly.
The next morning, I got dressed, slowly put on MY hijab, and grinned shakilly at my mother. We both said some duas and then I left my house, wearing my book bag, my new coat, and, of course, my hijab. As I approached the bus stop, I came to my first encounter of the day. One of my best friend was standing there, watching me with a puzzled look. Not knowing how to even start our impending conversation, I blurted out, 'Well, I've changed!' My friend looked back at me and smiled. "Yes," she replied, "You got a new jacket!" I smiled gratefully back at her. I knew she had accepted my hijab as a part of who I was already; to her I was the same person I had always been, just expressing my outward personality differently.
My other friends responded in the same accepting way as well. They were perhaps a bit surprised, as I had not told anyone about my plans previously. Yet they all knew that I was a Muslima, and that I had just come to a different stage in my faith. Even my teachers were interested in my "new look." I was very lucky that I received such a good reaction on MY first few days of wearing the hijab, and I am extremely thankful to Allah (SWT) for that.
The positive reaction of my family, friends, and teachers made me confident in wearing the hijab. Wearing it to places other than school, like the mall, a restaurant, or a friend's house, was not difficult at all. True, people stared at me, and they still do. But any strange look or mean comments I see or hear only strengthen my faith and make me happier to be a Muslima.
Indeed, my hijab is a symbol of my identity. It is not at all repressive or obstructive. In fact, with my hijab on, I am freer to be who I am, and not let what other people think or say or do affect my belief. Wearing my hijab is a way of letting everyone know that I am a Muslima, that I have strong beliefs and morals, that I will never compromise. Now that I wear the hijab, people ask me questions about Islam, and they even respect me more. Teachers trust me to take tests without their supervision, knowing I will not cheat. My friends and classmates understand more about lam by observing my behavior. By wearing the hijab, I feel that I am letting others see the truth and beauty of Islam. Besides, to me, Allah's (SWT) favor is truly the best reward of wearing the hijab.