A personal journey with hijab

After Moving to Texas from the East Coast, the decision to wear a hijab was personal and spiritual. Inwardly, I had been longing to wear the hijab as a symbol of my identity for many years, but the commitment to outwardly express my faith felt like a daunting challenge, especially as a newly single mom working in the corporate world. I wrestled with the fear of stereotypes and discrimination and the impact it could have on my career. Thoughts like ‘What if I lose my job?’ kept creeping into my mind. The decision became easier once I regained the grasp of my unwavering belief that Rizq (sustenance) is from Allah, and my decision to wear the hijab is solely to please Him, the Almighty, and the best of planners. I can’t say the journey was an easy one, but it was vastly different from the narrative I was telling myself. 

One blessed day, I decided to go into the office wearing a hijab. I was mentally prepared for the stares and natural curiosity that would follow. To my surprise, it was the hesitancy of older white females that stood out to me, while men approached me with simple questions about my choice to wear the scarf.  I was proud to explain that this is my choice, and I am not being oppressed in any way. I found myself dismantling preconceived notions and promoting understanding through dialogue and personal examples. Soon, the realization set in that I am a walking, talking Dawah billboard. With that realization, I became focused on making sure that each interaction is a source of education. I made a conscious decision to remain patient in the face of discrimination because every move I make (my body language, my tone of voice, and the words I choose) sets the tone for my Deen for the non-Muslims I am interacting with. 

I work in IT, which is a male-dominated field. In my experience, overall, I have received less bias from males over females at work. Having said that, in 2019, I had an interesting experience with a male executive at my workplace. I was assigned to a project that was in trouble, and I was part of the new team whose job was to bring the project from red to green. The team, comprising 15+ people, including four executives, was assembled in a big conference room to strategize a recovery plan. On my first day, as I walked into the conference room, I felt my nerves and my heart beating a little faster than usual—a familiar feeling I had before meeting a new team. As I introduced myself, the absence of second looks and obvious stares started to calm my nerves. Later that day, I met a male executive who was not there in the morning. When a co-worker introduced us, his first words were “I don’t know if I like you yet.” while he pointed with his index finger. Immediately, I felt humiliated, and the rush of blood filled my face which is luckily unnoticeable to others due to my olive complexion. As my body was beginning to feel hot, sweat was breaking inside my blouse. Still, I stayed calm and collected but it took every ounce of patience. I chose to stay quiet, exercise patience and maintain composure because I held myself to a higher standard which I knew inside will pay off in the end.

As the project progressed, the team noticed my work ethic and commitment to excellence. They also noticed my religious practices like praying several times a day in a room across from the conference room we were all settled in and eating Zabiha Halal at team dinners, etc. Naturally, curiosity about Islam arose and so did the discussions. The significance of five daily prayers and dietary restrictions seem to fascinate most, but nothing fascinates them more when I purposefully slip in my husband’s name ‘Ricardo’ into conversations.  Like always, someone ends up asking – “did you say your husband’s name is Ricardo?” The look on their faces is of surprise mixed with confusion. People are expecting me to say that my husband’s name is ‘Muhammad’ or “Ahmed” – not Ricardo. I end up explaining Ricardo’s conversion story from Christianity and it becomes a Dawah conversation starter. Being married to a convert is an advantage when a non-Muslim is curious about Islam. So, yes, I consciously use it in my Dawah discussions. It plants the seed that people like themselves convert from Christianity to Islam after research and studies and hopefully serves as a source of encouragement to look into Islam for themselves one day.

After months of work, the project had reached a critical point that would determine our team’s ultimate success. The very executive who had once humiliated me with the rude comment approached me and said, “Saba, if we can pull this off, then I will get down on that rug you pray on and thank Allah.” I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. And he used the word ‘Allah’ not ‘God’. This heartfelt statement meant the world to me. It meant that my unwavering patience had won his respect for my hijab, my five daily prayers, my dietary restrictions, and ultimately my DEEN. He ended up turning into a staunch supporter and provided me with a glowing review during the end-of-year appraisal. 

A valuable reminder to every sister wearing a hijab:  you are spreading Islam when you showcase resilience in the face of adversity, practice patience while confronting pressure, develop a thick skin when dealing with an unconventional reaction, and smile throughout it all. There is no doubt that your Sabr (patience) will be manifested in more ways than one, Insha Allah! 

Remember, Allah chose you, a Hijabi woman, and not a man, to outwardly represent our beautiful faith. Wear your crown proudly and know that Allah has honored you with an opportunity to be a walking, talking Dawah billboard.