A Japanese
Woman's Experience of Hijaab
By Nakata Khaula
When I reverted 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.
The feeling still persists amongst non-Muslims that Muslim women wear the
hijab simply because they are slaves to tradition, so much so that it is
seen as a symbol of oppression. Women' s liberation and independence is, so
they believe, impossible unless they first remove the hijab.
Such naivete is shared by "Muslims" with little or no knowledge of
Islam. Being so used to secularism and religious eclecticism, pick and mix,
they are unable to comprehend that Islam is universal and eternal. This
apart, women all over the world, non-Arabs, are embracing Islam and wearing
the hijab as a religious requirement, not a misdirected sense of
"tradition." I am but one example of such women. My hijab is not a
part of my racial or traditional identity; it has no social or political
significance; it is, purely and simply, my religious identity.
I have worn the hijab since embracing Islam in Paris. The exact form of the
hijab varies according to the country one is in, or the degree of the
individual's religious awareness. In France I wore a simple scarf which
matched my dress and perched lightly on my head so that it was almost
fashionable! Now, in Saudi Arabia, I wear an all-covering black cape; not
even my eyes are visible. Thus, I have experienced the hijab from its
simplest to its most complete form. What does the hijab mean to me? Although
there have been many books and articles about the hijab, they always tend to
be written from an outsider's point of view; I hope this will allow me to
explain what I can observe from the inside, so to speak.
When I decided to declare my Islam, I did not think whether I could pray
five times a day or wear the hijab. Maybe I was scared that if I had given
it serious thought I would have reached a negative conclusion, and that
would affect my decision to become a Muslim. Until I visited the main mosque
in Paris I had nothing to do with Islam; neither the prayers nor the hijab
were familiar to me. In fact, both were unimaginable but my desire to be a
Muslim was too strong (Alhamdulilah) for me to be overly concerned with what
awaited me on the "other side" of my conversion.
The benefits of observing hijab became clear to me following a lecture at
the mosque when I kept my scarf on even after leaving the building. The
lecture had filled me with such a previously unknown spiritual satisfaction
that I simply did not want to remove it. Because of the cold weather, I did
not attract too much attention but I did feel different, somehow purified
and protected; I felt as if I was in Allah' s company. As a foreigner in
Paris, I sometimes felt uneasy about being stared at by men. In my hijab I
went unnoticed, protected from impolite stares.
My hijab made me happy; it was both a sign of my obedience to Allah and a
manifestation of my faith. I did not need to utter beliefs, the hijab stated
them clearly for all to see, especially fellow Muslims, and thus it helped
to strengthen the bonds of sisterhood in Islam. Wearing the hijab soon
became spontaneous, albeit purely voluntary. No human being could force me
to wear it; if they had, perhaps I would have rebelled and rejected it.
However, the first Islamic book I read used very moderate language in this
respect, saying that "Allah recommends it (the hijab) strongly"
and since Islam (as the word itself indicates) means we are to obey Allah's
will I accomplished my Islamic duties willingly and without difficulty,
Alhamdulilah.
The hijab reminds people who see it that God exists, and it serves as a
constant reminder to me that I should conduct myself as a Muslim. Just as
police officers are more professionally aware while in uniform, so I had a
stronger sense of being a Muslim wearing my hijab.
Two weeks after my return to Islam, I went back to Japan for a family
wedding and took the decision not to return to my studies in France; French
literature had lost its appeal and the desire to study Arabic had replaced
it. As a new Muslim with very little knowledge of Islam it was a big test
for me to live in a small town in Japan completely isolated from Muslims.
However, this isolation intensified my Islamic consciousness, and I knew
that I was not alone as Allah was with me. I had to abandon many of my
clothes and, with some help from a friend who knew dress-making, I made some
pantaloons, similar to Pakistani dress. I was not bothered by the strange
looks the people gave me!
After six months in Japan, my desire to study Arabic grew so much that I
decided to go to Cairo, where I knew someone. None of my host family there
spoke English (or Japanese!) and the lady who took my hand to lead me into
the house was covered from head to toe in black. Even her face was covered.
Although this is now familiar to me here in Riyadh, I remember being
surprised at the time, recalling an incident in France when I had seen such
dress and thought, "there is a woman enslaved by Arabic tradition,
unaware of real Islam," (which, I believed, taught that covering the
face was not a necessity, but an ethnic tradition).
I wanted to tell the lady in Cairo that she was exaggerating her dress, that
it was unnatural and abnormal. Instead, I was told that my self-made dress
was not suitable to go out in, something I disagreed with since I understood
that it satisfied the requirements for a Muslimah. But, when in Rome . . So
I bought some cloth and made a long dress, called khimar, which covered the
loins and the arms completely. I was even ready to cover my face, something
most of the sisters with whom I became acquainted did. They were, though, a
small minority in Cairo.
Generally-speaking, young Egyptians, more or less fully westernized, kept
their distance from women wearing khimar and called them "the
sisters." Men treated us with respect and special politeness. Women
wearing a khimar shared a sisterhood which lived up to the Prophet' s saying
(Allah' s blessings and peace on him) that "a Muslim gives his salaam
to the person he crosses in the street, whether he knows him or not."
The sisters were, it is probably true to say, more conscious of their faith
than those who wear scarves for the sake of custom, rather than for the sake
of Allah.
Before becoming a Muslimah, my preference was for active pants-style
clothes, not the more feminine skirt, but the long dress I wore in Cairo
pleased me; I felt elegant and more relaxed.
In the western sense, black is a favorite color for evening wear as it
accentuates the beauty of the wearer. My new sisters were truly beautiful in
their black khimar, and a light akin to saintliness shone from their faces.
Indeed, they are not unlike Roman Catholic nuns, something I noticed
particularly when I had occasion to visit Paris soon after arriving in Saudi
Arabia. I was in the same Metro carriage as a nun and I smiled at our
similarity of dress. Hers was the symbol of her devotion to God, as is that
of a Muslimah. I often wonder why people say nothing about the veil of the
Catholic nun but criticize vehemently the veil of a Muslimah, regarding it
as a symbol of` "terrorism" and "oppression." I did not
mind abandoning colorful clothes in favor of black; in fact, I had always
had a sense of longing for the religious lifestyle of a nun even before
becoming a Muslimah!
After another six months in Cairo, however, I was so accustomed to my long
dress that I started to think that I would wear it on my return to Japan. My
concession was that I had some dresses made in light colors, and some white
khimars, in the belief that they would be less shocking in Japan than the
black variety.
I was right. The Japanese reacted rather well to my white khimars, and they
seemed to be able to guess that I was of a religious persuasion. I heard one
girl telling her friend that I was a Buddhist nun; how similar a Muslimah, a
buddhist nun and a Christian nun are! Once, on a train, the elderly man next
to me asked why I was dressed in such unusual fashion. When I explained that
I was a Muslimah and that Islam commands women to cover their bodies so as
not to trouble men who are weak and unable to resist temptation, he seemed
impressed. When he left the train he thanked me and said that he would have
liked more time to speak to me about Islam.
In this instance, the hijab prompted a discussion on Islam with a Japanese
man who would not normally be accustomed to talking about religion. As in
Cairo, the hijab acted as a means of identification between Muslims; I found
myself on the way to a study circle wondering if I was on the right route
when I saw a group of sisters wearing the hijab. We greeted each other with
salaam and went on to the meeting together.
My father was worried when I went out in long sleeves and a head-cover even
in the hottest weather, but I found that my hijab protected me from the sun.
Indeed, it was I who also felt uneasy looking at my younger sister's legs
while she wore short pants. I have often been embarrassed, even before
declaring Islam, by the sight of a women' s bosoms and hips clearly outlined
by tight, thin clothing. I felt as if I was seeing something secret. If such
a sight embarrasses me, one of the same sex, it is not difficult to imagine
the effect on men. In Islam, men and women are commanded to dress modestly
and not be naked in public, even in all male or all female situations.
It is clear that what is acceptable to be bared in society varies according
to societal or individual understanding. For example, in Japan fifty years
ago it was considered vulgar to swim in a swimming suit but now bikinis are
the norm. If, however, a woman swam topless she would be regarded as
shameless. To go topless on the south coast of France, however, is the norm.
On some beaches in America, nudists lie as naked as the day they were born.
If a nudist were to ask a ` liberated ' female who rejects the hijab why she
still covers her bosoms and hips which are as natural as her hands and face
could she give an honest answer? The definition of what part of a woman' s
body should remain private to her is altered to suit the whims and fancies
of either men or their surrogates, the so-called feminists. But in Islam we
have no such problems: Allah has defined what may and may not be bared, and
we follow.
The way people walk around naked (or almost so), excreting or making love in
public, robs them of the sense of shame and reduces them to the status of
animals. In Japan, women only wear makeup when they go out and have little
regard for how they look at home. In Islam a wife will try to look beautiful
for her husband and her husband will try to look good for his wife. There is
modesty even between husband and wife and this embellishes the relationship.
Muslims are accused of being over-sensitive about the human body but the
degree of sexual harassment which occurs these days justifies modest dress.
Just as a short skirt can send the signal that the wearer is available to
men, so the hijab signals, loud and clear: "I am forbidden for
you."
The Prophet, Allah's blessings and peace on him, once asked his daughter
Fatima, May Allah be pleased with her, "What is the best for a
woman?" And she replied: "Not to see men and not to be seen by
them." The Prophet, Allah' s blessings and peace on him, was pleased
and said: "You are truly my daughter." This shows that it is
preferable for a woman to stay at home and avoid contact with male strangers
as much as possible. Observing the hijab, when one goes outside, has the
same effect.
Having married, I left Japan for Saudi Arabia, where it is customary for the
women to cover their face outdoors. I was impatient to try the niqab (face
cover), and curious to know how it felt. Of course, non-Muslim women
generally wear a black cloak, rather non-chalantly thrown over their
shoulders but do not cover their faces; Non-Saudi Muslim women also often
keep their faces uncovered.
Once accustomed to, the niqab is certainly not inconvenient. In fact I felt
like the owner of a secret masterpiece, a treasure which you can neither
know about, nor see. Whereas non-Muslims may think they are life imitating
caricatures when they see Muslim couples walk in the streets, the oppressed,
and the oppressor, the possessed, and the possessor, the reality is that the
women feel like queens being led by servants.
My first niqab left my eyes uncovered. But in winter I wore a fine eye-
covering as well. All the feelings of un-ease when a man's eyes met mine
disappeared. As with sun glasses, the visual intrusion of strangers was
prevented.
It is an error of judgment to think that a Muslim woman covers herself
because she is a private possession of her husband. In fact, she preserves
her dignity and refuses to be possessed by strangers. It is non-Muslim (and
"liberated" Muslim) women who are to be pitied for displaying
their private self for all to see.
Observing the hijab from outside, it is impossible to see what it hides. The
gap, between being outside and looking in, and being inside and looking out,
explains in part the void in the understanding of Islam. An outsider may see
Islam as restricting Muslims. In side, however, there is peace, freedom, and
joy, which those who experience it have never known before. Practicing
Muslims, whether those born in Muslim families or those returned to Islam,
choose Islam rather than the illusory freedom of secular life. If it
oppresses women, why are so many well-educated young women in Europe,
America, Japan, Australia, indeed all over the world, abandoning
"liberty" and "independence" and embracing Islam?
A person blinded by prejudice may not see it, but a woman in hijab is as
brightly beautiful as an angel, full of self-confidence, serenity, and
dignity. No signs of oppression scar her face. "For indeed it is
not the eyes that grow blind, but it is the hearts within the bosoms, that
grow blind," says the Qur'an (Al-Hajj 22:46). How else can we
explain the great gap in understanding between us and such people?
Courtesy:
www.everymuslim.com
AL-ISLAAH PUBLICATIONS
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