Rotten Little Girls

Why I Became A Feminist – Looptheloop (http://www.loop-the-loop.net)

Born into a Muslim family, I was always taught that females had certain roles that they had to fullfil. My father is probably one of the biggest chauvinists I have met, but nonetheless he is a kind and caring man to his two kids – my brother and I. My mother has always been a strong woman, but she has been oppressed by Pakistani Islamic culture her whole life. She had an abusive father who treated his wife (my grandmother) and my mother awfully. He forced my mother to marry at age 15, a year before marriage was legal even then in Pakistan. The man she was forced to marry was my father, and he was double her age. My grandmother was against this marriage, but typically did not have a voice as a woman in the family. My brother was the first born, and between looking after him she continued her education and worked part time.

Perhaps luckily for me, by the time I was born, my grandfather had already passed away. When my parents found out that they were going to have a baby girl, this was celebrated. My mother had her own clinic (she was a midwife), and she set up a nursery for me at the clinic as well as at home. I was spoiled rotten.

By the time I was 4, my family moved to London. As I began to grow up, my voice was often silenced. I was not to disrespect my elders, especially the men. When my father had a friend over, I was to help my mother give them tea and snacks. I was too young, at this point, to realize that the same was not required of my brother (who is 9 years older than I am).

During my last year of primary school, when sex ed came up in class, my mother refused to sign my permission slip on the grounds of religion. A few weeks after this happened, I began menstruating. This happened whilst my mother was at work, and I remember it like yesterday. I was at home alone, and I was terrified. I actually thought I was going to die. I called my mother and she told me to calm down, and explained what to do. I still resent her for not letting me go to the sex ed class in my final year of primary school. To add to my confusion, I began to question my sexual identity. I realized that men and women get together, but I had no idea that people could be gay. This was never discussed in my family, and I dared not to ask. However, despite being interested in boys, I also felt something for girls. However, being ashamed and embarrassed by these feelings, I suppressed them.

As I entered my teens and started secondary school, my father began to put immense pressure on me to wear a head scarf (hijab). I began to rebel however, and wore the scarf when my father dropped me off at school, but took it off as soon as I entered the school grounds where he could not see me. This was awkward and embarrassing, and I often had to explain myself to my friends, who simply did not understand. This was the first moment that I began to feel angry that girls as young as me were forced to wear a hijab. It did not make sense to me, but I carried on until I got sick of it a couple of years later. I began to stand up to my father and even had my mother on my side, on the issue of the hijab.

My dad would, at times, nag me to pray and wear the hijab whilst my older brother was out late at night with his friends, partying. During my secondary school years, I did not have much of a social life. I went out perhaps once every six to eight months with my friends to the cinema, but anything more frequent than that angered my parents. A good Muslim girl was not to be seen out with her friends, especially not a mixed group! I really began to question the existence of god, and my faith in Islam, and often argued on the topic of a ‘good god’ with a Muslim female friend of mine. Despite this, however, I tried my best to fit in and to believe. My main concern with Islam was the double standards when it came to men and women, the perfect example being the double standards between my brother and I. The age difference was not the issue, as my brother was always out with friends (male and female) during secondary school.

It was not until the last year of secondary school, and my two years at A-level that I realized that I was a feminist. I took a strong liking to English Literature, and my teachers placed a big focus on feminist literature including The Color Purple, Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit and The Handmaid’s Tale. I loved this class, and I thoroughly enjoyed discussing and writing essays about feminism in literature. It seemed to come naturally to me. Even my Art & Design classes contained the issue of the role of women in society, with a focus on Muslim women.

After A-levels, I spent one year at art school and much of my work was developed from the issues I looked at during my A-level Art course. I made a photography piece which consisted of me wearing a mini skirt, showing my legs, but wearing a niqab (the full face veil) and going out into a busy London park. I got a friend to take photos of me, as well as the reaction of the people in the park. This piece was presented at the end of year exhibition, and I convinced myself to show my mother. However, sadly, I could not take my father to see it due to his reaction – which would be anger seeing me wearing a mini skirt and showing my legs.

I have now completely denounced my faith, but sadly I still cannot tell my father, only my mother is aware. My father still does not want me to go out with my friends (I am 23 this year), and still dictates what I should and should not wear. Moreover, I have witnessed him telling my mother off for wearing jeans and not the traditional Pakistani Shalwar Kameez dress. I feel sad whenever I see females from the Islamic community I used to belong to, being given this false illusion that they are given equality in Islam. This is controversial to say, but one of the reasons I lost respect for Islam is Verse 4:34 in the Qur’an, the holy book of the Muslims. It states the following:

Men are in charge of women, because Allah hath made the one of them to excel the other, and because they spend of their property (for the support of women).

Then if they obey you, seek not a way against them. Lo! Allah is ever High, Exalted, Great.

My closest male friends still tell anti-women jokes that are focused on women being the weaker sex, or rape, or women being useless, and it makes me uncomfortable. If I get angry, they tell me to “stop being such a feminist”. I’m afraid that just isn’t going to happen. I had a debate with another male friend about Akon’s disrespectful song lyrics, and I made the statement that yes, I am a feminist, to which he replied “That’s the problem”.

My boyfriend, whom I love to bits and who knows how strongly I feel about gender equality, feels that there is not much of a need for feminism in Western society, but I always catch him out when I say that if there is no one fighting for feminists in the Western world, who will help teenage girls who are forced by their fathers to dress and act in a certain way? Who will tell these girls that voicing your opinion is completely valid? If not for the females in the West, what about getting the message out in our society about females treated badly in other societies? I am glad that I have a supportive boyfriend in this matter, despite some of our differing opinions, but I will always be passionate about women’s rights and gender equality. I will never be ashamed to use the F word when describing myself!

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The “Why I Became a Feminist” series is open to anyone who identifies as feminist and wants to share their story. Please email me at rottenlittlegirls @ gmail.com and I will consider publishing your piece in this series. I’d love to have a broad range of voices and experiences.

Check out the rest of the series!