My journey away from Islam- Part 2

My journey away from Islam- Part 2

It felt like forever once I made it to the other side of the terminal with every head turning my direction. To cut a long story short, we managed to get our bags and head outside to the car. The sight outside Aden International airport was unforgettable -for all the wrong reasons. There were barricades across the street and at least a dozen armed guards carrying AK-47 patrolling the area. Again, I didn’t see any females. A large white convoy with the letter AU sped right in front of us followed by two vehicles.

About 10 minutes in the car we finally got to our destination. We unloaded our luggage and the entire neighbourhood came out to stare at us. Many of the small kids pointed at my sister and started laughing. I couldn’t see the funny part so I just ignored them and carried my suitcase to the house until an old lady sitting next to the pillar gasped and tutted ‘Are you for sale? Why don’t you dress like a Muslim girl for your age?’

That lovely lady is my grandmother, Hafsa. It was the first time that I’ve met her and the first thing she did was compare me to a commodity. I guess it’s a thing they do out here to women.

'Hello, nice to finally meet you’ was all I could say as I headed to the kitchen to wash my hands. My sister joined me not long after to complain about how rude the old lady was.

‘Maybe she’s never seen a girl wear trousers before’ I said to my sister as I took off my jacket but, she wasn’t impressed. It wasn’t what she said that bothered us it was the way she said it. We were in the middle of complaining about how bloody hot the kitchen was until my mother called us to the living room. We got there and the entire family were all sitting on the sofa.I was handed a bag full of clothes and was told that it was a requirement. I looked inside and all I saw was black. Hesitantly I pulled out the large material and much to no one's surprise, it was an abaya with a  very long hijab that reached my knees.

"What the hell is this?" I asked with a disgusted look on my face. I looked to check at my sister and she pulled an identical dress. She was just as confused as I was.

‘This is an abaya and the scarf to go with it when you go out."

"why? It's too hot outside."

"Because it says so in the Quran and you can’t argue with that. You must cover your body at all times outside the house otherwise men will attack you and it will be your fault."

Just like that my grandmothers sick and deluded reasoning came out effortlessly from her lips. It was the first time I was stunned and speechless. Is this what Islam promoted? Did Islam corrupt these people so much that they didn’t understand the gravity in which their words meant? Are victims of abuse their fault? I got up slowly and placed the bag next to my brother and simply walked out. My head was spinning faster than I could handle it and I needed some time to process. I went back to the kitchen again to wet my face and have another glass of water. Then it hit me. All the mean faces I used to get back home from Somalis because I never wore the hijab, the complaints I got from my uncles for not being ‘modest’ and above all the lack of defence from my mother started to go off in my head. Was this all a set up? Was this the true Islam that my family wanted me to adopt?

I walked out of the kitchen and picked up my mother’s suitcase and started to rummage around to look for the English translation of the Quran. It didn’t take long so I quickly hid it under my shirt and walked to my room. I carefully placed the Quran in a pile of clothes on top of the drawer and walked away.

Later that night I took out the Quran and started to read for the first time.