Sunday, 3 June 2018

Book Review: From my sisters' lips, by Na'ima B Robert

This was a nice casual read. There are plenty of books out there that cover what Islam is in a matter-of-fact style but sadly not enough out there that try to describe what it feels like to be a Muslim. This book is probably the first and, to date, one of the only ones in this space. The book is split into two parts: the first describes the author's journey into Islam and the second describes the author's experiences and thoughts since entering into Islam. It's a well-written book and a good book to point anyone to who wants to get a basic understanding of what it means and feels like to be a Muslim and, particularly, what it means and feels like to be a Muslim woman.

Below are some quotes from the book:
"I must confess that part of what appealed to me [about the Prophet Muhammad ()] was how different he was to the general stereotype of the traditional Muslim man – they were poles apart in so many ways and that was a comfort. I knew that I would be proud to one day teach my son the way of our Prophet () at home so that my son could be a true Muslim man in his." 
"In countless films, novels, songs and poems, the theme of adultery is explored and exploited. I think it would be fair to say that the language and image of adultery is a part of our society, whether we like it or not, and the popular media neither condemns it nor warns against it. Instead it glamorises it and the people who fall into it." 
"As a scholar from the past put it, the Qur'an presents mankind with rational proofs of its truth and authenticity and, based on these proofs, the reader can then accept those things that cannot be proven. That was how it was for me." 
"... by far the greatest trial for me and many others was actualising what is really the essence of Islam – submission. To become a Muslim is to become one who submits to the will of Allah. That means ego out, arrogance out, pride out: the self is brought to heel." 
"... it was as if, because we had so wanted to start wearing the hijab, Allah had put light in our faces. We didn't look funny or dowdy or plain – we looked beautiful."

"I enjoyed the feeling of anonymity it [the hijab] offered. I liked the fact that people couldn't see my face, that I was a mystery to them. I had begun to feel uncomfortable with the fact that anyone, any man, could see my face..." 
"At one point, during the sermon, the khutbah, I looked around me and was struck by the beauty of the sisters around me. At that moment it seemed to me so natural that we should want to cover that beauty, to protect it, to keep it private. Some people are appalled when they see beautiful women covering themselves – but I wasn't. Instead, I felt proud to be covering like them." 
"I often feel under pressure not to make a mistake – in my car, with change in a shop, with disciplining my child – lest people attribute it to the fact that I am covered and therefore incapable... And so I make a point of walking tall, speaking confidently and smiling with my eyes – anything to project an image beyond what they see of me, demanding that they relate to me and not to my niqab." 
"As Muslims, we do not champion the latest beliefs, the fashionable religions, the trendy ideologies. We know what we believe, we know right from wrong, and we don't feel the need to fit in to whatever ideas are popular at any given time. What we have and hold onto is constant and solid. It is a rock in the middle of a turbulent sea, where 'truths' are as many as those who peddle them." 
"When people commiserate with my father about how his bright, vivacious daughter could have become a Muslim, hiding herself away behind a veil, he always tells them not to feel sorry for me; that I am having a whale of a time and not leading the joyless like they seem to expect."