Beauty of Hijab

January 15, 2012

Ten of the Best Manners

March 3, 2011

From Al-Harmaas ibn Habeeb, who narrarated from his father, who narrarated from his grandfather, that he heard ‘Aaishah (radhiyallahu ‘anhaa) saying:

“The best manners are ten:

 

  • Truthful speech
  • Sincerity and courage in obedience to Allah
  • Giving the one who asks
  • Recompensing the worker [employee]
  • Keeping the ties of kinship
  • Giving back [being trustworthy] with that which you are entrusted upon
  • Honesty and good treatment of the neighbor
  • Honesty and good treatment of the spouse
  • Honouring the guests

and the top of all, the [best manners] is

- hayaa [shyness & modesty].”

 

[Taken from The Excellence of Aaishah The Mother of The Believers pg 47. Reference in Arabic (Makaarim-al-Akhlaaq of Ibn Abee Dunya(35).]

 


CHOOSING TO WEAR THE SCARF

May 30, 2010

BELOW IS A CUTE STORY OF A YOUNG GIRL WHO CHOSE TO WEAR THE SCARF OR HIJAB AS IT IS CALLED IN ARABIC.  MANY TIMES PEOPLE FEEL THAT WE ARE FORCED INTO WEARING THE SCARF YET THE MAJORITY ARE CHOOSING TO WEAR IT.  PLEASE READ THIS CUTE STORY WHICH WAS POSTED ON OPRAH.COM

Nine years ago, I danced my newborn daughter around my North Carolina living room to the music of Free to Be…You and Me, the ’70s children’s classic whose every lyric about tolerance and gender equality I had memorized as a girl growing up in California. My Libyan-born husband, Ismail, sat with her for hours on our screened porch, swaying back and forth on a creaky metal rocker and singing old Arabic folk songs, and took her to a Muslim sheikh who chanted a prayer for long life into her tiny, velvety ear. She had espresso eyes and lush black lashes like her father’s, and her milky-brown skin darkened quickly in the summer sun. We named her Aliya, which means “exalted” in Arabic, and agreed we would raise her to choose what she identified with most from our dramatically different backgrounds.

I secretly felt smug about this agreement—confident that she would favor my comfortable American lifestyle over his modest Muslim upbringing. Ismail’s parents live in a squat stone house down a winding dirt alley outside Tripoli. Its walls are bare except for passages from the Qur’an engraved onto wood, its floors empty but for thin cushions that double as bedding at night. My parents live in a sprawling home in Santa Fe with a three-car garage, hundreds of channels on the flat-screen TV, organic food in the refrigerator, and a closetful of toys for the grandchildren. I imagined Aliya embracing shopping trips to Whole Foods and the stack of presents under the Christmas tree, while still fully appreciating the melodic sound of Arabic, the honey-soaked baklava Ismail makes from scratch, the intricate henna tattoos her aunt drew on her feet when we visited Libya. Not once did I imagine her falling for the head covering worn by Muslim girls as an expression of modesty.

Last summer we were celebrating the end of Ramadan with our Muslim community at a festival in the parking lot behind our local mosque. Children bounced in inflatable fun houses while their parents sat beneath a plastic tarp nearby, shooing flies from plates of curried chicken, golden rice, and baklava.

Aliya and I wandered past rows of vendors selling prayer mats, henna tattoos, and Muslim clothing. When we reached a table displaying head coverings, Aliya turned to me and pleaded, “Please, Mom—can I have one?”

She riffled through neatly folded stacks of headscarves while the vendor, an African-American woman shrouded in black, beamed at her. I had recently seen Aliya cast admiring glances at Muslim girls her age. I quietly pitied them, covered in floor-length skirts and long sleeves on even the hottest summer days, as my best childhood memories were of my skin laid bare to the sun: feeling the grass between my toes as I ran through the sprinkler on my front lawn; wading into an icy river in Idaho, my shorts hitched up my thighs, to catch my first rainbow trout; surfing a rolling emerald wave off the coast of Hawaii. But Aliya envied these girls and had asked me to buy her clothes like theirs. And now a headscarf.

In the past, my excuse was that they were hard to find at our local mall, but here she was, offering to spend ten dollars from her own allowance to buy the forest green rayon one she clutched in her hand. I started to shake my head emphatically “no,” but caught myself, remembering my commitment to Ismail. So I gritted my teeth and bought it, assuming it would soon be forgotten.

That afternoon, as I was leaving for the grocery store, Aliya called out from her room that she wanted to come.

A moment later she appeared at the top of the stairs—or more accurately, half of her did. From the waist down, she was my daughter: sneakers, bright socks, jeans a little threadbare at the knees. But from the waist up, this girl was a stranger. Her bright, round face was suspended in a tent of dark cloth like a moon in a starless sky………..

“Are you going to wear that?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, in that tone she had recently begun to use with me when I state the obvious.
Read the rest of this entry »


Making the Choice: Wearing the Hijab

November 13, 2009

Wearing Hijab

Wearing the Hijab for the First Time

Essay by Najla Ghazi Amundson

I was born and raised in Akron, Ohio, to Muslim parents from Aleppo, Syria. We lived in an upper-middle class suburb, predominately white and Christian. My parents had doctoral degrees. Dad was an engineer at a large company and mom stayed home with my younger sister, brother, and me. My parents spoke Arabic at home and we responded in English. Our family did not attend Mosque, we did not fast nor did we celebrate Muslim holidays. The women in my family did not wear hijabs. But I knew I was Muslim. My parents taught me that being Muslim was a way of life. I learned about my religion when I asked questions, when I listened to my parents converse, from the rules of our home and the choices I was taught to make. My religion was also strongly tied to my ethnicity. To be Muslim was to be part of the Arab culture.

I grew up during the 1970s and 1980s, during the overthrow of the Shah of Iran and the Iran hostage crisis. That’s when Nightline first went on the air and Ted Koppel began each show with the number of days the hostages had been in captivity. Then the oil crisis. Neighbor kids would tell me my family should go back to where we came from and ask why my Dad didn’t wear a rag on his head. Just as I emerged as a new television reporter, the first Gulf War erupted. My beat was the local Air Force base. Most of my reports focused on National Guard troops being shipped off to Iraq. Then, there was 9/11 and now we have the ongoing “War on Terror” making Arab and Muslim synonymous with terrorist and anti-American.

I maintained a particular identity and I guarded it heavily. As an elementary student, I didn’t look like my blonde-haired and blue-eyed classmates, but I tried to appear like them as much as possible in clothing, hair, behavior, and talk. This emphasis on mainstream appearance hit a high in college when I represented my state in the Miss America Pageant. I also had chosen a career in broadcast journalism and became a well-recognized figure in my community as an evening television anchor. My position placed an emphasis on appearance.

As I saw it, the only way to relate the “I” to “we” was to blend into the dominant culture. So as I got older and gained more control over my own decisions, I took the route of least resistance. I spent much of my life not discussing my religion, or even my ethnicity. My parents knew what I was doing and so did I. They never said anything. I am sure they were ashamed of my choices. But some things are difficult to talk about. I wasn’t strong enough to be without a “we.”

The Decision

The decision to wear the hijab and write an autoethnography came about quickly. I came up with the idea about a year ago, but decided the timing wasn’t right. The night before the fall semester began, I was home with my husband, children and one of my friends, Anna (also a graduate student). I brought up the idea again and Anna enthusiastically encouraged me to follow through on it.

I wasn’t so sure. Read the rest of this entry »


SHAME ON YOU: SHAME CARTOONS

September 24, 2008

Shame on You: Shame Cartoons September 23, 2008

Posted by Ethar in Comics/CartoonsCulture/Society
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They’re popping up everywhere in harmless-looking packaging: shame cartoons.

A quick search online will turn up a multitude of articles, op-eds and full-on rants appealing to women’s sense of shame (One particularly delightful article was titled “I appeal to your sense of shame my Muslim sister.”)

And then we have cartoons.

The first kind are pretty straightforward: they want you to get veiled. But rather than engage you in discussions about interpretation of hadith or Qur’an, they try and shame you into wearing it.

As expected, most come across as being judgmental, preachy and rude. And ones that focus so much on women’s dress kind of miss out on an important point: what you put on your head is not necessarily more important than what goes on inside it.

The “hijabi shame cartoons” start from the fairly innocent “the veil is an obligation just like prayer” written next to a woman covering her hair and praying, to the more extreme: I’ve actually seen one of a woman wearing niqab (face veil) which shows her eyes standing in front of a fire (!) because according to that author, showing your eyes is haram (divinely forbidden).

Let’s take a cartoon that’s ‘in the middle’:

First off, it assumes that there is only one correct interpretation of hijab (veil),* and that those who wear it ‘improperly’ (let alone not wear it at all) are in the wrong, wrong, wrong.

Second, it equates dress with behavior, which in some ways is even worse than stereotypes of veiled women (oppressed, asexual, powerless, helpless, low IQ etc). Hijab is seen as the be-all and end-all. I’m a proud hijabi myself, but that doesn’t mean I was automatically transformed into a perfect Muslim the moment I wore it. Just because a woman wears a veil doesn’t meant that she doesn’t struggle with temptations just like any other person, or that she’s better than an unveiled girl.

(I particularly like the touch of designing the cartoon so the face of the veiled woman is ‘glowing’ because she’s so ‘good’).

The second type of shame cartoons are a hundred times worse. Because not only are they trying to shame women into dressing (and acting) in a certain way, but they’re trying to make them think that if they don’t veil and dress ‘properly’ they’re at fault if they get sexually harassed.

There’s a multitude of them out there, with the most recent being the “Veil your lollipop” ads, featuring a covered and uncovered lollipop—with the latter surrounded by flies and with the tagline “You can’t stop them, but you can protect yourself.”

Similarly another ad features a covered and uncovered sweet, this time with the tagline: “A veil to protect or eyes will molest.”

The ad campaigns have attracted furor from local and international press. I don’t know what’s more insulting: the idea that women are candy, or that men are flies.

As has been said numerous times, the veil doesn’t protect women from sexual harassment, which is about power and control, not sexuality. Let’s take Egypt as an example. The recent Egyptian Center for Women’s Rights (ECWR) studytold us that in a country where over 80% of the women are veiled, 83% of women are harassed. During the Eid festivities in Egypt in 2006, mass sexual harassments went on downtown (video here), with hundreds of men sexually assaulting women.

What’s worse about the study (which surveyed 2,020 Egyptian men and women and 109 foreign women) is that 62% of Egyptian men surveyed admitted to harassment, and 53% blamed women for bringing it on. Sixty percent of the respondents (male and female) said that scantily clad women are more likely to be harassed though in reality 72% of the women who said they’d been harassed were veiled. But the worse part is the lack of understanding by Egyptian women that the harasser is a criminal and women had a right to dress as they pleased (read more about the study in Faith’s post here and about the“Respect yourself” campaign against sexual harassment in Egypt here.

Harassment in Arabic is “tahroush”, but is referred to in colloquial Arabic as mu’aksa (”teasing”), which is a very light-hearted term that detracts from the seriousness of the situation.

Attaching religion to sexual harassment just fuels the harassers, giving them an excuse for their behavior and coerces women into dressing a certain way when they may not be fully convinced. The ‘blame the victim’ mentality is only compounded by shame cartoons, which absolve the harassers of any wrongdoing. (Mona El-Tahawy has a great post about shame here)

There are also many cartoons that compare veiled women to pearls (where the veil is their ‘protective covering’). These ads are particularly annoying because as we know, the veil does not necessarily offer ‘protection,’ which is a kind of a weak reason to veil in the first place. And that’s another thing these cartoons fail to realize—the desire to ‘cover’ is multifaceted, and is not necessarily related to religion.

For the cartoons that do realize women veil for other reasons, their reasoning is even worse: not only are they trying to brainwash women into believing they are at fault for sexual harassment—they don’t frame veiling as a religious duty. Instead, they say that ‘decent’ girls cover while ‘indecent’ girls don’t. If you take that to its logical conclusion: only ‘indecent’ girls get harassed.

So, what is it about shame? Why are we trying to shame women?

The answer lies in the fact that for many cultures, especially Arab ones, ‘honor’ lies with women, whose reputation, behavior, virginity, and appearance becomes a benchmark for the respectability of a culture.

Arab cultures, for the most part, are ’shame’ rather than ‘guilt’ cultures, where the reactions and treatment of society mandates an individual’s behavior, rather than his or her personal feelings of right and wrong.

The concept of shame is often confused with modesty. So many cartoons emphasize that you should be ashamed of your body, as if it was an unwanted appendage. Hayaa’ (modesty), an important part of Islam (regardless of how it’s interpreted) is often translated as shame, which is not only incorrect but goes against the fact that Islam says “Certainly We created man in the best make” (95:4) and promotes healthy sexual relationships within the proper framework of marriage.

Appealing to women’s sense of shame (which has already been ‘cultivated’ since they were young) in order to get them to dress in a certain way is a shortcut for the lazy who do not want to engage in proper discussions with them and only care about appearance. But browbeating women for the actions of men is, I’m sorry, just low. How come there are no cartoons shaming men for treating women like objects? No cartoons shaming men into realizing God created men and women as equals?

Search as hard as I could, I could not find one cartoon pointed at men and aimed at shaming them. The best I could come up with were some radio and TV ads that are currently airing in Egypt asking men not to harass women because…wait for it…harassment is harmful to the economy! You see, harassment tarnishes the image of Egypt in the eyes of tourists and they might not want to come, so you should stop. At least during tourist season. You can watch one of the ads here.

But that’s enough from me. What do you all think?

*Please let’s not get into arguments about what constitutes proper dress/whether hijab (however you define it) is mandatory, etc.

TO SEE THE ORIGONAL SITE AND TO BE ABLE TO FOLLOW THE “HERE” LINKS PLEASE SEE THEIR LINK:
http://muslimahmediawatch.org/2008/09/23/shame-cartoons/
 

Veil: The View From the Inside

September 14, 2008

 

Veil: the View From the Inside

By Nakata Khaula

The View From The Inside
PostScript: The Life Without the Hijab

Do Muslim Women Have Rights?

Anyone whose sole source of knowledge about Islam has been the Western media, “knows” that Islam “oppresses” women. The hijab or veil, is the symbol of such “oppression.” To “liberate” Muslim women from such “oppression” has been the cherished goal of media pundits, Western “experts” on Islam, and the feminists.

Such is the result of a fierce propaganda campaign that has been going on for a very long time. The attack has been so ferocious that the veil and all the aspects of Shariah (Islamic laws) dealing with women should have pulverized under its intense heat. Yet in the U.S., the Western Europe, Japan and Australia, it is the women who have been turning to Islam in record numbers. It was not supposed to happen! And when it does, the propaganda machinery does not acknowledge it. It just puts a little more pressure on the accelerator.

There is something to be said about the N.Y. Times or L.A. Times reporter who will travel half way around the world to interview a woman with a Muslim sounding name in, say, Pakistan to talk about the Shariah’s injustices to the women, while ignoring the Muslim women in their own backyard who have experienced both worlds and love the Islamic one — hijab and all. The reporter travels not in search of truth, but only believability. For, the truth hurts; believability, on the other hand, is the foundation for building circulation and for propaganda.

Should not we listen to the woman who was raised and educated in the west, had first hand experience of the status of women in this society, then studied Islam and observed the life behind the veil, decided to cross the fence against all the propaganda about immediate doom, and has enjoyed life ever since? That woman does not exist in the propaganda world. She is never allowed to speak on the pages of “prestigious” publications. She has no rights! She is the one you should be listening to, to find the truth. She speaks on these pages. Listen to her.

Note: This article was taken from the magazine Impact.


Veil: The View From The Inside

When I returned to Islam, the religion of our inborn nature, a fierce debate raged about girls observing the hijab at schools in France. It still does. The majority, it seemed, thought that wearing the head-scarf was contrary to the principle that public – that is state-funded – schools should be neutral with regard to religion. Even as a non-Muslim, I could not understand why there was such a fuss over such a small thing as a scarf on a Muslim student’ s head.

Muslims contributed a proportionate amount of tax to the state funds. In my opinion, schools could respect religious beliefs and practices of students as long as they did not disrupt the school routine, nor pose a threat to discipline. However, the French faced, apparently, increasing unemployment and they felt insecure about the immigration of Arab workers. The sight of the hijab in their towns and schools aggravated such insecurity.

More and more young people in Arab countries were ( and are ) wearing the hijab, despite the expectations of many Arabs and non-Arabs alike that it would disappear as Western secularism took root in Arab societies. Such a revival of Islamic practices is often regarded as an attempt by Muslims to restore their pride and identity, both undermined by colonialism. In Japan, it may be seen and understood as conservative traditionalism, or the result of anti-Western feeling, something which the Japanese themselves experienced following the first contact with Western culture during the Meiji era; they too reacted against a non-traditional lifestyle and Western dress. There is a tendency for people to be conservative in their ways and to react against anything new and unfamiliar without taking the time to see if it is good or bad. Read the rest of this entry »


Women AND Islam

September 14, 2008

This is one of the most wonderful lectures that I have had the chance to listen to in such a long time. It is long but so worth the time.  Sr. Aminah Assilmi reaches us with reason and common sense backed up with hadith and Quran and well researched information.  She presents herself in the most dignified manner as a muslimah must and serves as a great example for all of us to follow.  Please take the time to listen to all of it.!


Women in Islam

September 13, 2008

Hijab is following what Allah asks of us , but we dont realize it is a gift from Him.

more about “Women in Islam“, posted with vodpod


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