A Day in the Hijab of Shama

I spent the first 21 years of my life without Islam. And during those years I dressed however the trends dictated. Sometimes I dressed completely opposite the trends just because, well that’s my nature. I wore short mini-skirts that gravely hindered my range of movements. I was always afraid of dropping something because I couldn’t bend over without exposing my rear. I figured that I'd either had to train myself to grip items much tighter or remember to squat down to retrieve fallen items. Eventually I realized I should just not wear the skirt.

In Junior High, tight tight jeans were popular. So I sported my oxygen restrictive jeans until I could no longer remember my name (not to mention the massive wedgies occurring). I had ta let um go. Oh, and I mustn’t forget that always reliable little black dress. It was a favorite of mine. I grew up in the days of always wearing stocking with a dress. Whoever invented stockings must have really hated women. Why else are we expected to wear something so fragile on our legs and feet? These are the things we use most while in motion. I would last no longer than 2 hours in a day without a huge run in my stockings, thus completely ruining the look.

I wore my hair big in the 80’s and straight in the 90’s. Big hair was somewhat difficult and time consuming for some of my girlfriends to achieve (my hair is of a more cooperative texture). We used to spend at least an hour with curling irons, back combing, hair sprays, jells, mousse, singed ears from the irons and a bit of cussing when that happened. We did all of this only to find that when the first gust of wind hit us from behind our big hair styles would be emancipated from the products that had united them in bondage. Now, the straight do’s were just as tedious to maintain. The natural enemy of my straight hair was humidity. If it were too humid, my straight locks would frizz. If it were raining, my hair would get wet and curl. UUgggghhhhh! This is when I started wearing hats.

Then, there was always the breaking-in of the new high heel shoes. Firstly the shoe was shaped completely wrong for human feet. I never knew anyone whose feet grew to a pin-point at the toe like I found in these shoes. But nonetheless, I was led to believe that these shoes would make me feel pretty. Well, for the first few days, they made my feet feel like they’d been mauled by pitbulls!

Let's talk about skin problems for a moment. For we all know that the look isn't complete without flawless pores. I’m still scarred by the mornings I would wake up only to discover the gigantic volcano of a pimple on my chin. Nothing says confidence like having someone stare, as if in a trance, into the “third eye” on your chin for an entire conversation. How do you hide that?

Everything changed the day I became a Muslim. Or did it? Well, Allah (God) instructed us, men and women to cover our bodies. Men have certain areas that they must keep covered and women have also. So now, out goes the little black dress and in comes the abayas and head scarves. An abaya is basically a loose fitting, long sleeved dress that comes down to the ankles. The main purpose is for a woman to cover her body in a way that doesn’t reveal her figure. This is so liberating. Who cares what I’m wearing because I’m just going to slip into my abaya and roll out. I personally like my abaya to reach a bit longer than my ankles only because with carrying babies and such, a dress can have a tendency to ride up a bit and I don’t want to play peek-a-boo with my legs. But there is a snag in this picture. Try climbing a flight of stairs with both arms full of groceries and a dress that is tripping you up each step. This makes for an ugly uphill battle (literally). It’s not the most graceful show you’ll witness.

Next is the headscarf. Muslim women also are required by Allah (not man) to cover the hair. Well this is great! No more waking up early to style my do before I go out. I'll save that for this evening before my husband comes home. But for now, I can just throw on my scarf and call it a day. And this is just what I do but…let’s talk about when the wind changes and becomes my enemy. I know other Muslim women have had this happen to them also. Picture it: I’m walking through the grocery store parking lot. Yeah, I think I look pretty smart in my black abaya and groovy purple silk scarf. All of a sudden a gust of wind smacks me in the back of the head and SWOOSH! My groovyness has now flown over my eyes while the entire back of my head is now blowing in the wind!

Several years into my Islamic journey I decided to wear a veil. Some women do and some don’t. It doesn’t make me more Muslim than anyone else. There are some who feel it’s a must and others who don’t. I have my personal reasons for the decision and I’m very satisfied. But that’s not to say that the veil is free from “wardrobe malfunctioning.” The good thing is that wind can no longer blow off my scarf. The veil (nikab) holds down the fort nicely. But here’s the thing: the level of where I tie my nikab behind my head makes a big difference. So if I dare wear my hair in a bun too high on my head, the nikab cannot be placed right and then it’s gonna be a bad nikab day. That means constantly tugging at the edges that keep creeping up to my eyes. So ponytail placement accuracy is a must for gratifying nikab days.
As you can see, no woman’s wardrobe is free of all kinks. But to assume that just because Muslim women use more material for their clothes that they are oppressed is ridiculous. I had a woman ask me, “Why do your men make you dress like that?” This was an honest question. She wasn’t trying to be rude. This was just how she misunderstood Islam. So I inquired, upon seeing her low cut blouse showing ample cleavage and her tight pants that revealed a beautiful figure, did her man make her wear this so he can show the world how beautiful his woman is. She told me that she dresses however she pleases. I then told her that Muslim women dress however Allah pleases and that Allah is pleased with how I’m dressed now.

ring... ring... ring-
"Whewwww(sighing) Division of Vital Records can I help you?"

"Hi, I recently ordered a birth certificate for my newborn daughter. What I rcvd was a crooked photo copy of it on flimsy printer paper."

"Ma-am, what you rcvd was a book copy of the official birth certificate. It is official."

"But why did I rcv this book copy instead of the regular type I have for my other kids?"

"Was one of the parents born out of the country?"

"Yes"

"That's why Ma-am. If one of the parents was born outside the United States they issue a book copy birth certificate."

"But, MA-AM, why do my other children not have this?"

"Hhhmm (exhaling with annoyance)Where were you born?"

"California."

"MA-AM, you just said you were born out of the country!"

"NO, you asked if ONE of the parents was born out of the country and I replied in the affirmative. My husband was born in Nigeria and is a US citizen."

"Well that's why you rcvd the book copy."

"Look, my husband's place of birth was the same at the birth of our other 2 children and we rcvd REGULAR birth certificates!"

"But they don't state his place of birth on them. This one is better because it's more detailed(it contains the name and address of the attending OB, big whoop) and if you try to get a passport for the child you won't have any problems."

"ALL of my children have rcvd passports with the original certificates w/o any problems. I fail to see the significance of this book copy except to TAG us as foreigners immediately upon seeing this crappy piece of paper instead of an official TRADITIONAL birth certificate."

"Well ma-am, this is what is issued to parents born other than the US."

"You idiot! Are you listening to me? This is NOT what I've rcvd in the past..."

--CLICK (sound of her hanging up on me)

"Gee, that went well."

Note to self: 1. In the future try not to lose your temper in the mist of stupidity especially when you are trying to get them to assist you. 2. From this day forward, ask for the name of the person on the other end before anything else.

A grandmother decides to mail a check to her grandson as an Eid Gift. She writes the check payable to her daughter in order for her to cash it and give it to the grandson. In the place left for writing what the check is for she writes her grandson's name. the check is mailed. It travels across the country to where her grandson lives. The daughter receives the check and takes it into the bank to cash. She approaches the teller and explains that she'd like to cash this check. The teller looks at the check, pauses momentarily, and then excuses herself. She returns 5 minutes later with her supervisor just as the police enter the bank. They approach the daughter and gruffly request that she come with them. She questions the reason as they forcefully remove her from the bank while under the confused scrutiny of the bank patrons.
Across the country 20 minutes later, Grandma's doorbell rings. She opens the door and to her surprise she's met by two police officers and two men in suits. They inquire who she is and when she tells them, she too is taken into custody.
WHAT'S THIS ABOUT, YOU ASK?
Ok, let me add more detail this time.
A grandmother on the West coast wants to send her grandson some money for an Eid Gift. She misses him and even though she's not Muslim she wants to celebrate with him his holiday and let him buy himself something he'd like. So she writes the check payable to her daughter and in the place left to write what the check is for she writes her grandson's name: Jihad.
The check is received on the East Coast by her daughter who promptly takes it to the bank to be cashed. She enters the bank in full hijab, all black (veil included) and approaches the teller. All eyes are on her as she begins to speak to the teller. Some looks of pity, some of disgust, some of fear, and some of indifference. The daughter is quite sensitive, she doesn't have a thick skin (it helps that she wears thick clothes). She tries to ignore the unprovoked attention. She explains that she'd like to cash this check. The teller looks at the check. And not to her surprise, because she figured "they" were all terrorists anyway, the check said it was for a "Jihad"!
Now Vikki, the teller, has been with the bank for 5 years. She sees herself as responsible and reliable. As she sees the woman dressed in all black, covered from head to toe, she instantly remembers the TV news program she viewed last night. They spoke of the infiltration of "Al Qaeda Terrorist Cells" right into the backyard of America. As she drove the highway to work this morning she read the billboard that stated: "Report Suspicious Activity". "This is not suspicious. This is outright BLATANT. She's getting funds from across America to ignite a Jihad on US soil!", thinks Vikki. She sees this as her civic duty to report to the proper authorities.
Back to the other side of the country, where the proper authorities have been contacted, Grandma has been arrested for funding the "JIHAD IN AMERICA".
DID THIS HAPPEN? COULD THIS HAPPEN? YOU TELL ME.