“You should write a book about it.”
It hit me like a dense overbaked loaf bread. Or, okay, a tonne of bricks. It came after a small barrage of questions thrown my way, out of a sincere intention of wanting to know. The first of which was,
“Why do you wear the niqaab?”
The question is pretty simple. The answer? Ahh…it requires some soul searching.
I felt somewhat uncomfortable sharing this with two curious brothers, to be honest, but the question came at me all of a sudden, so I had to give an answer. Surprisingly, even though I faltered in the beginning (more so because I didn’t really want to spill out the contents of my heart), I think I managed to convey what was in my heart and head.
Ever since I started wearing it, I have had different reactions from people. When a friend asked me how people reacted to me wearing it, I told her,
“If they could see themselves reacting on camera, I think they’d be embarrassed at how crude they were.”
I definitely accumulated stares, rapid head turning, once, and a head turning the second time, which actually produced a bubble of chuckle up my throat. I have had a child smile at me, which rather surprised me, seeing as how she could’nt see my expression much less my smile. Another child came up to me and asked,
“Who are you?”
An elderly lady who got in the elevator with me, smiled at me and said,
“You look lovely. I’ve never seen this except in pictures.”
A man for reasons that are still unclear to me, extensively helped my daughter and I out at the library. He even waited for us until we got what we were looking for. Could it be the niqaab? I will never know.
Some people ceased smiling at me when dealing with me, which is understandable, as the face covering might seem to impart a serious or grim expression on my part. And yet some seem to be able to quickly adjust to my smiling eyes when talking to me.
So when a brother asked my husband if he could ask me about the niqaab, I had quite an interesting exchange about the niqaab. The very same day, I had a sister ask me outright,
“So you’re wearing a niqaab now?”
I hadn’t expected the question, because she had seen me with it on Eid, and hadn’t said anything, so I simply said, “Yes.”
Normally, I would have added something else, but sensing somewhat of a disapproval, I didn’t offer any more length to my answer. It was followed by silence and a quick scan of my attire, top to bottom.
The whole exchange was a little unnerving, even though my husband was there, but it ended rather amiably. They ended up talking about beards. How did that come up? Ahh…I redirected it back to them, unintentionally though. But after which, I was left alone.
The suggestion remained with me, embedded itself in my mind, tugged at me every now and then, and so I consulted fellow niqaabis, who have been at it longer than I have, mashaa Allah.
What I am thinking: an anthology of niqaabis, not really centering on the ruling of it, but more of the insider story. How one came to niqaab. The experiences associated with it. Reactions. Negative and positive. Inspirations.
It would be a more extensive presentation of what I did with the latest article I wrote for SISTERS: Mother of Many Share Their Secret, for which I interviewed about 10 mothers/siblings of large families. A magazine though, has strict word limits. A book, hmm…possibilities. Na’ima Robert’s From My Sisters’ Lips came to mind as I was mulling this over in my head.
So far, I have gotten 2 green lights from the niqaabis I consulted. I will wait for the rest to respond. Being a beginner, I am very afraid that this is not a wise move for reasons I may not yet come to realize. We’ll see, inshaallah.