World Hijab Day

Apparently yesterday was World Hijab Day. When I saw the posts on social media, I posted this picture of my husband and I on my stories. (It was actually supposed to be MY picture, but I got photobombed. 🙄)

I’ve been enjoying reading other people’s hijab journeys, so I thought I’d share mine too. It’s quite anticlimactic, really.

I started when I was 10 years old, for a number of reasons. 

Firstly, the majalis (Islamic lectures) we attended quite regularly. Secondly, there was a girl in my class at school, who had been wearing hijab since she was about 7 or 8 years old (or maybe even earlier than that). I thought if she could do it, so could I.

While my mum was proud that I had come to this decision on my own, my school principal was less than impressed. She was a Muslim lady herself, in a Muslim country (United Arab Emirates). But she made my life hell that entire academic year… because according to her, I had “influenced” other girls to start wearing hijab, too, and that apparently ruined her school’s aesthetic. Go figure. 

It’s true that I was a bit of an orator at school… loved getting up on my soapbox about anything new I’d learned, lol. So it’s possible that some Muslim girls may have gone home and asked their parents about it, and been encouraged to do it… but I certainly didn’t “campaign” for it. It just happened.

I was not allowed to participate in competitions, even after being short listed, unless I took off my scarf. Of course I didn’t do that but I remember crying bitter tears that whole year.

At the end of the year, at Sports Day, the Principal told my mum that since I was part of the marching band, I had to take off my scarf. If I didn’t, she’d fail me and I’d have to repeat the year. After much discussion (and cursing of the principal by Mum 😂), my parents said I could take off my hijab for the duration of the marching band. 

Even as I write this, I can feel the burning shame of having to go in front of so many people without my white scarf. She may as well have made me go without clothes. 

I don’t know why she hated me so much… and what eventually became of her. 

All I remembered in the end, was how staunchly Mum supported me.