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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Mariam Khan
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September 26 - October 17, 2019
I realized that I was always hearing things ‘about’ Muslim women. Things ‘about’ who we were and who we were supposed to be and how we were supposed to act. When was the last time you heard a Muslim woman speak for herself without a filter?
Muslim women are more than burqas, more than hijabs, and more than society has allowed us to be until now.
our Muslim communities that are eager to defend Muslim men, and to that end try to silence us and shut down the ways we resist misogyny.
I believe the role of the writer is to tell society what it pretends it does not know.
Revolutions ‘go too far’: if your community is ready for you, then you are too late.
I say fuck because I am not supposed to. I say fuck because I believe that the crimes of racism, bigotry and misogyny – enabled and protected by patriarchy – are more profane than swear words. I say fuck because there is nothing civil about racists, Islamophobes and misogynists arguing over my body as if I did not exist.
of the Bollywood melodrama they enjoyed so much. The sweet spot was having a condition that was in no way chronic or serious (that would be a mood killer) but still involved substantial effort to power through. And the more unnecessary that effort was, the better.
But to us girls, no one talked about health. Rather they talked to us about bodies, flesh. How much of it was on show, where it was shown, to whom it was shown.
Respectability is an exclusive club, and once you’re out, you’re out.
In fact Muslim imams preach about the value of daughters, often citing that ‘a daughter opens the gates of paradise for a father’. Indeed, the person most beloved to Prophet Mohammed (pbuh) was his youngest daughter, Fatima.
A feature of all migration is the transference of culture from the old to the new land.
I decided that I would no longer allow the auntie-jis to make me feel as if I were a second-class citizen. Stripping them of their power to affect me was like turning a corner.
‘No, I meant how did your father allow you to attend university? You’re a Muslim girl. You should not be here.’
the person credited for founding the oldest existing, first degree-awarding educational institution in the world, the University of Al Quaraouiyine in Fes, Morocco, in the year 859, was a Muslim woman.
It pained me further to realize that there were many Muslim women and men who were simply not aware of the gender equality that exists in the Islamic faith. This was through no fault of their own, as they were simply not taught about the rights of women in Islam.
The sin of stealing for both a man and a woman is equal. In no verse in the Quran, or in any hadith, is it written that a woman’s sin is less than a man’s. Islam is very clear that a woman’s capability to do wrong is equal to a man’s.
Amaliah is a media platform dedicated to amplifying the voices of Muslim women through articles, videos, podcasts and events led by Muslim women. In the last two years we’ve built our community of contributors to over 200 Muslim women from around the world, many of whom have never felt comfortable sharing their voice on mainstream platforms.
Representation of Muslim women flip-flops between fitting a stereotype or breaking one, not the middle ground where most of us are.
2018 we saw headlines like ‘More people called David and Steve lead FTSE 100 companies than women and ethnic minorities’.
was then that I realized the true value of seeing even a small part of myself – in this case, my gender – in someone in a position I aspired to.
for some it felt like independent Muslim business owners were getting elbowed out. Hijabi dolls and sports hijabs already existed, created by Muslims; however, it was only when global brands came up with the same concept that the world applauded.
It was that it seemed as though representation within a secular system with the primary purpose to make money for large companies had been held up as the solution to racism, to othering and to ignorance.
We cannot deny that there is a cookie-cutter model of a Muslim woman that is seen in campaigns, movies, the media and amongst brands. The current cookie cutter is light skinned, wears a hijab and is normally a fashion or beauty influencer.
In fact, celebrating individuals also plays a role in cementing the problem – it means we act as if the gates are suddenly wide open or the glass ceiling and structural inequalities no longer exist. We create an illusion that success is at the tip of our fingers.
But the truth is, I cannot expect that everything Muslim women in the public eye do will resonate with my own ideals of what I want to see in the world. In expecting so, we are in danger of contributing to the perception of Muslim women as a monolith by picking and choosing people who we feel represent us and then dropping them when we feel they no longer serve our ideals of representation.
Javid implied that, because he had a Muslim-sounding name, it meant that there were no barriers to entry into the party. Suddenly the Conservative Party was apparently being absolved of Islamophobia by a man who had previously been on record saying he was not a practicing Muslim.
being Muslim is about faith, the representation of Muslims should come with terms and conditions.
What we once wore as an affirmation of our faith, as an act of submission to God, has become excessively politicized and has come to represent far more than religious observance.
Now, in some quarters, the hijab is a symbol of defiance.
Muslim women have fought for comprehensive acceptance, yet the only way Western society is willing to engage is within a framework of cultural choices, and when it comes to the fashion world, we find ourselves in a place that expects us to leave behind certain elements of our religion and to comply with a reformed and acceptable version of it.
On the one hand we have a wealth of magazines advertising a glorious and heavily made up Muslim woman,
And before Dolce & Gabbana, Tommy Hilfiger, and whoever else are supplied as evidence in the case against – for their abaya catwalks – unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I don’t constitute the 1 per cent who can afford designer Islamic wear, nor do I live in the Gulf states. It strikes me as ironic that while it is Islamic clothing, Islamic culture, and Islamic ideals that are supposedly being represented, the models on those catwalks are not Muslim, the designers are not Muslim, and even the audience present is not Muslim.
We’ve forgotten that the hijab is not supposed to be a fashion statement or an expression of choice and freedoms to appease a secular-liberal audience; hijab was and is supposed to be an expression of faith and Muslim identity – that’s where it began, and that is where it was supposed to end.
And yet. When I think of my baby daughter, I picture her little face looking anxiously at dolls, and finally dancing with glee when her eyes fall on one with a headscarf.
Before pictures of hijab-wearing Muslim women were everywhere, I was far more confident about not wearing make-up or sporting a plain hijab. I now feel the complete opposite; enslaved by the new Muslim woman who I’m supposed to look like – a better, skinnier, more perfect version of me.
I knew I wanted to keep it on even if I wasn’t enjoying wearing it. I didn’t believe that I had to justify my struggle through a secular lens
And that’s fine. I’m not here to speak on behalf of all Muslim women.
Fighting for the rights of the minorities within the minorities and seeking representation in industries that value us for more than how we look.
Being among peers asks us instead to delve into the granularity of our experiences as Muslim women beyond the obvious. In some ways, the obvious conversations are the easy ones. We know what is expected, and what an audience unfamiliar with nuanced perspectives of Muslim women will be comfortable with.
was a young, female graduate in a hyper-masculine working environment, and a clear deviant from ‘the norm’. It was becoming obvious that there was a chasm between my understanding of my place in the world and the reality of it. Here, on rigs in the middle of the desert and ocean, my process of awakening would begin. This change would take time.
To nobody’s surprise except my own, the environment I moved into didn’t change; I did. I fell into the pattern of so many female engineers before me, who did what they could to survive.
It is no wonder that the retention of female employees in STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics) is dismal: after twelve years, 50 per cent of women in STEM will have left their jobs, compared to 20 per cent of women in other professions.
I pushed back against the idea that I might be faced with racism, sexism or discrimination. Look at my privilege, I would say.
A simple Google search will give you the basics of what happened to Yassmin Abdel-Magied in 2017. I had, up until then, been the Model MinorityTM, but with a single Facebook post I suddenly became the Controversial Muslim ActivistTM. To say it was a shock to the system would be like calling Hurricane Katrina ‘a bit of a breeze’. Mine was a virtual public lynching,
Once you have begun the journey of awakening, there is no turning back. Your eyes have been opened to the ways of the world.
When our mental health is good, we are supposed to be able to handle the normal pressures of everyday life. But what is normal? Normal for one person is not normal for another.
But when I looked online, on social media and Muslim forums, I was struck by the overwhelming prevalence of one single idea: that you could not be Muslim and depressed, because a true Muslim would be content with what God had planned for them.
In Islam, alcohol, drugs and pre-marital relations are all forbidden, as is suicide. Therefore, when a Muslim whose mental health issues are tied up with one of these turns to the community, they often find nothing but judgement, when what they seek is the relief promised by the Islamic principles of mercy and forgiveness.
Pride and familial honour are hugely important in the Muslim community, and no one wants to feel as though they are bringing shame to their parents by admitting they are suffering.
and the consequent worry about what our family, friends and fellow Muslims are going through has a huge impact on our mental wellbeing. And it’s worth underlining the importance of the latter. Muslims are constantly being reminded that we are all one ummah – that we are of one body, and when any limb aches, the whole body reacts with sleeplessness and fever.
