Shelina Janmohamed by Love in a Headscarf

Author:Love in a Headscarf
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 0807000809
Publisher: Beacon Press
Published: 2010-10-12T05:00:00+00:00

The first thing I decided to do was something that nice girls didn’t do. I decided to climb a mountain, a very big mountain. Kilimanjaro to be exact, the highest point in Africa, sitting just inside the border of Tanzania. It was a special thrill to embark on such an adventure in a country that had a close family connection to me. I had received an e-mail from a relative in Tanzania about a group that was about to attempt the ascent. The group would consist of about twenty people, all local Tanzanians, and an experienced guide. There were still places left, she told me. The climb would take place in two weeks time. I was unfit and unprepared. And very ready to go.

“Nice girls don’t climb mountains,” an Auntie told me.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because it’s not the kind of thing a girl should do.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not nice. And people will talk.” The argument then changed tack. “What need have you got to climb a mountain?”

“No need, I just think it will be exciting, and a challenge.” I let the argument circle around the edges of culture and personal development.

“There are other exciting things you can do.”

“But God says that we should travel in the world and see His creations. In fact, He says several times in the Qur’an that we should travel His earth which He has created for us.” Exposing the discrepancy between “how things had always been done” and Islamic teachings meant that there was no argument to be made in response.

“Don’t think you are a boy, that you can do whatever you like. You’re a girl and you have to know your place.”

I was not surprised by this turn in the discussion: it simply evoked a long-standing incredulity about what is and isn’t right for girls and boys to do.

“Are you sure that it’s okay for boys to climb mountains but that girls should not climb mountains?”

I raised my eyebrows and smiled cheekily. I was sure that I was very irritating at this moment.

In my head I wanted to ask her: “You don’t want to phone a friend or ask the audience? Is it your final answer?” Instead, I paused and slowed down my pace, adopting a more serious tone.

“I love the stories of the Prophet, and I particularly like the story of his wife Khadijah. Don’t you? It must have been very moving for her to be married to a man of such spirituality.” The Auntie listened as I recounted the story every Muslim knows: often the Prophet would go to a special place to “get away from it all” and to meditate. This place, nestled at the top of a small mountain was called the Cave of Hira, and is where Muhammad’s mission as a messenger of God was first openly revealed to him.

The angel Gabriel descended and revealed to Muhammad the first word of the Qur’an, “Iqra!” meaning “Read!”—the divine prescription toward knowledge being at the heart of the message of the religion that came to be known as Islam.

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