WUNRN
Global Fund for Women -
International Museum of Women
The Salafi Feminist
- Muslim Woman's Story - Traditional & Modern Identities
Identities are fluid, and often
difficult to map on a straight line between "traditional" and
"modern." Or between "hijab" and "helmet," in the
case of author Zainab bint Younus's short story about a gang of
"Hooris," deeply religious Muslim women turned vigilante biker
chicks.
#Equality
Is : Muslim women being seen as agents of their own fates, able and active
in fighting for their own causes – not as helpless victims.
"Hoor al-‘Ayn" is a
short story centered around the idea of a group of young Muslim women who, on
one hand, would be considered not just religious, but conservative (their
leader wears niqab, the face-veil); and who, on the other hand, break the very
idea of what "conservative" means by forming a vigilante biker gang
in a semi-fictionalized Californian inner city.
These young women embody many of
the emotions and experiences of Muslim women around the world. They are devoted
to their faith, and it is their faith which empowers them, even as they turn
the idea of a “pious Muslim woman” on its head. They reclaim and redefine what
it means to be a Muslimah, as is reflected in the name they chose for
themselves: “Hoor al-‘Ayn.” In Islamic belief, Hoor al-'Ayn is the
name given to the otherworldly handmaidens in
These Hoor al-‘Ayn are dedicated
to a higher cause: the pleasure of God in the pursuit of justice for all. In
the inner city, just as in rural villages, women tend to be amongst the most
vulnerable members of the population, and the Hoor al-‘Ayn are willing
to take drastic measures to ensure that the women around them are able to feel
safe and fight back for their rights. They have the added challenge of facing
cultural norms of gender-based injustice found within the Muslim community.
Although the issues are the same as those faced by women in other religious and
ethnic communities – domestic violence, alas, is a global phenomenon and not
unique to Muslims – it is the cultural justifications and normalization of
these problems which are most difficult to eradicate.
In short, the Hoor al-‘Ayn of this story are a force of faith, power, and justice to be reckoned with.
At 5 feet 3-and-a-half inches
exactly, 20 year old Sameera’s petite form was unremarkable. Swathed in a
flowing black abayah and matching shayla, she was just
another young Muslim woman from a conservative Muslim community in the inner
city. Perhaps the only thing that made her stand out was the niqaab she
wore in addition to the abayah and hijab, a sight not often
seen in her neighborhood.
Sameera smiled grimly in the
mirror as she pulled down her niqab and whipped off the length of
chiffon away from her face, revealing a shock of rainbow-colored hair, multiple
ear piercings, and a henna tribal tattoo on her neck. There was absolutely
nothing conservative about her appearance now. The truth was, she loathed being
"normal," hated being "just another Muslimah." The only
time she felt free, that she felt truly herself, was when she was on-duty.
Luckily for her, she had patrol tonight.
Shrugging off her abayah, Sameera
exchanged it for a floor-length leather duster that hung on a mannequin’s torso
in her bedroom. The soft, simple shayla was replaced with one of
sturdier material, designed not to flutter or slip as much as the chiffon was
wont to do. Wrapping it around her face, the hair, tattoo, and piercings
disappeared again, although Sameera pinned this hijab in place with a
dagger-shaped pin. A pair of fingerless leather gloves, adorned with a strip of
small metal spikes, and matching knee-length boots with steel-tipped toes
completed her ensemble.
Sameera’s reflection stared back
at her, a slow smug smile conveying her satisfaction at this wardrobe
adjustment. Tugging her niqab up to cover the smile, Sameera’s back
straightened and her muscles flexed in anticipation.
She was ready to
prowl. ...
The Hoor al-‘Ayn, as
they had named themselves, or “those Muslim biker chicks,” as they were known
by the rest of the city, believed themselves to be nothing more than a product
of their environment.
Several of them came from Muslim
homes, often conservative, but living in the inner city meant that every day
was a survival of the fittest. And usually, the fittest carried around a pair
of brass knuckles and steel-toed boots; a speedy ride was helpful, too.
All cultures adapted to Islam –
or was it the other way around? Either way, the Hooris were a
reflection of both their faith and their neighborhood. The seven or eight girls
all observed hijab; their abayas were suited for the concrete jungle
they lived in – slashed at the sides for ease of movement, particularly jumping
onto and climbing off their motorcycles. Many sported fingerless gloves, mostly
leather and accessorized with metal studs or spikes. Matching jackets –
emblazoned with the gang’s logo, a veiled woman holding aloft a machine gun –
and riding boots completed their practical ensemble. Of course, each girl
sported her own custom bike, choice of concealed weaponry, and personalized
accessories.
They were all still young, and
ranged in age from their mid-teens to early 20s, but growing up in the middle
of a battlefield had taken its toll. Though their eyes sparkled and many still
had puppy fat clinging to their cheeks, jaded cynicism tipped their smiles like
jagged arrowheads and their shoulders were tense with the constant wariness of
those who are both predator and prey.
At the moment, the Hooris were
milling about the masjid parking lot, a motley crew of bikes, hijabs,
and helmets. This evening, they were on-duty: the masjid had a
neighborhood watch program that they took part in regularly.
After 9/11, the existing tensions
of the inner city turned into an inferno of hate, violence, and fury. When the
men of the Muslim community decided to form a protective force, the women
refused to be left out. Sameera had been the first to storm into the Imam’s
office and demand that she and her friends be allowed to join the nightly
patrol.
After much debate (between the
Imam and Sameera), argument (between the men of the community and Sameera), and
threats (from Sameera to the men in the community), it was finally agreed that
the newly-formed Hoor al-‘Ayn would assist the as-yet-unnamed group of Muslim
men in monitoring the neighborhood’s activities. Their main focus was to
protect the Muslim homes located near and around the masjid, but their overall
goal was to serve the cause of justice and strike fear in the heart of the scum
who lurked the streets.
And today, they had a mission to
carry out.
About the
Author
Zainab bint Younus (also known as The Salafi Feminist) is a young Canadian niqaabi and a Goth, (Steam)Punk, zombie-loving, wannabe-biker niqaabi feminist who may or may not be a Salafi according to your definition thereof. Her dream is to become a classically-trained orthodox Islamic scholar, and possibly a superhero. In the meantime, she is a writer dedicated to learning and sharing stories of powerful Muslim women throughout Islamic history; a proponent of grassroots da'wah and activism; and an absent-minded mother to a pretty awesome toddler (mashaAllah). She writes for SISTERS Magazine, her blog, and can be found on Twitter.
__________________________________________________________________________