Unfortunately this is a common scenario among many Muslim married sisters. In fact, one of the most common complaints husbands have against their wives is that the wives don't beautify themselves at home.

I have personally observed many Muslim sisters stop taking care of themselves once they get married. Some married sisters only dress up when they go out and while others don't even bother with that. For some, abaya and hijab become a perfect “cover up” for outside the house and a t-shirt and sweat pants become the perfect lounge-wear for inside the house!

Reasons Why Sisters Don't Dress Up:
I cannot generalize the reasons why sisters stop taking interest in taking care of themselves at home, but I want to highlight 2 main points:

1. Once married to a practicing brother, sisters assume their knight in shining armor won't be interested in their looks but, rather, in their imaan. They believe their beauty lies in their “piety.”
2. Husbands don't express their desire in seeing their wives dressed up. Or, when their wives dress up, they don't bother to compliment them, which confuses the wife into thinking, “He does not care.”

Beauty and Piety are Two Separate Characteristics:
Let's remember, piety may add to a person's inner beauty which may reflect through physical appearance; however, they both are independent characteristics.

There is no prohibition in looking good; in fact, to physically beautify oneself to please one's husband and keep him happy is not only a praiseworthy act but also a means to earn reward from Allah azza wa jall.

When the Prophet sallallahu alihi wasalam was asked which woman was best, he replied, “The one who pleases (her husband) when he looks at her, obeys him when he gives a command….” (Nasa'i)

Hence, sisters, please on a daily basis before your husband returns home:

• Take a shower (make sure you are not smelling like food)
• Change your clothes.
• Wash your face with cleanser/scrub.
• Put light make up on. Please don't use the excuse, “I don't know how to.”
• Wear some jewelry.
• Show some creativity with your hair. Remember frizzy hair can be taken care of with gel, mousse, hair spray, hair straightener etc.
• Use your perfume everyday and not only when you visit a friend.

Moreover, try to get a facial done once in a while. If you can't afford to, there are millions of products available at very reasonable prices for home facials/deep cleaning.

Dear sisters, abaya should not be used to cover up weight gain, and neither should the hijab keep frizzy/unkempt hair covered. I understand that a t-shirt and sweat pants are the most comfortable clothing but it needs to be changed before your husband get back home.

Husbands: Pay Attention & Don't be Stingy with Words:
In the early days of marriage, since husbands are “new,” it is important to look good. As the time passes and the couple becomes more comfortable around each other, it is only natural to become more informal. I remember the first time I wore my glasses in front of my husband was after SIX months of our marriage!

Compliments are incentives for looking good. For non-hijaabis it is easier to stay focused about their looks since their appearance is visible in public.

On the other hand, once a person is covered behind abaya and hijaab, it is easier to become careless about one's appearance; besides, “who is going to look?”. This is where a husband's attention and compliments become essential.  A wife desires attention from her husband. If she feels her husband appreciates her dressing up and taking care of herself, it will encourage her to take care of herself. Hence, husbands please:

• Pay attention to your wife on a daily basis
• Show interest in her looks, clothes and her overall appearance
• Encourage her by buying her clothes you would like her to wear
• When she is dressed up, make sure you praise her.
• When she is not, remind her gently

Marriage is a mutual bond of understanding and give and take. This issue, too, requires an effort on both sides.

And finally, it's never too late to start young.  Parents, some advice for your young girls:

• Train your daughters to take care of themselves from a young age.
• Instill a habit of working out regularly so they become accustomed to maintaining their physique.
• Allow them to wear jewelry at home and even let them experiment with make up so when they get married and should be adorning themselves for their husbands, the intimidation factor isn't there. Wearing make-up and jewelry won't become a burden, but rather a daily ritual.
• Train them to dress nicely and keep a pleasant demeanor every day at home in front of their family.

By taking these subtle steps you prepare them for some lifelong habits that will only make their marital life more pleasant inshaAllah.

Seeing the Truth

Little by little, day by day, as she continued her irrational behavior, my mother's abuse began to finally wear down on the affection, trust and admiration I had for her. One day we had an altercation in which she crossed the line, saying something I never thought I would hear my mother say about me. It pushed me to seek counseling and severely marred the love I had for my mother. Through counseling I was better able to handle the situation at home, but it was still very challenging. Then one day my mother crossed the line once again. After an internet search, I determined that she had a serious mental illness. Although I am not a psychiatrist and cannot officially diagnose her, a mental illness is the only way to make sense of my mother's non-sensical behavior. Although I recently made this realization, I can see in hindsight that it was prevalent throughout my life.

It was upon this realization that I picked up a book on child abuse titled, Toxic Parents by Susan Forward, PhD. Dr. Forward, who has written books on other forms of abuse, chose the word toxic purposely to make a point about the effects of abuse. In these pages, where she discussed her clients and their journey towards healing, I read my life. Here, in black and white, were accounts of other people who had similar experiences and feelings that I had. In this book was, almost word for word, things my parents had said to me, how my siblings and responded (differently) to the abuse and my own thoughts and behaviors. I was finally validated and I confirmed, for myself, that I was not crazy, that what my parents did was not only wrong but happened to many other children.

Unfortunately, this was a secular book. There are no books, websites, lecture series or even pamphlets about child abuse or mental illness in the Muslim world that I know of. Even if there are, they are not popular enough that I could find them easily. Forums discussing mental illness and child abuse are filled with, produced and moderated by non-Muslims and secular knowledge.

Another helpful book was regarding dealing with loved ones with mental illness. In the book and on their website, I found people's account of their own loved ones behaviors that exactly matched my mother's. It confirmed for me that my mother does not think or behave normally and is in fact mentally ill.

As for my father, since I always knew his behavior was abnormal and my mother had always tried to label him with a mental illness; I never made an attempt to understand him.  I now see that things were not always what they seemed between him and my mother. Even though he continued hitting me into my adulthood and still has something mean to say, he has simmered down significantly. I've begun to see what seem like hints of a guilty conscience in his face, as if he is finally realizing the consequences of his crimes. He now teeters between giving me the personal space that I ask for and demanding love and admiration I feel he never planted in me.  Although it can never excuse his behavior, (and though he still tries) it may be that his mind cannot truly fathom the hurt he inflicted upon me, why I feel the way that I do, or why I cannot love him the way he feels I should.

Suggestions for Solutions

Acceptance

Acceptance is the most painful but most important first step towards resolving the issues within oneself. Denial means believing that nothing is wrong and therefore that nothing must be done. In order to change the status quo, you must first believe there is something wrong with the status quo. We put our parents on such pedestals, expecting the best of them and believing they have our best interest at heart; so much so, that it is hard for us to admit our parents can be abusive. As bad as it feels for me to know that I have mentally ill and abusive parents, who I cannot trust or expect love and acceptance from, it is far worse to keep chasing the carrot on the stick in trying to please them and earn their love and acceptance. I still do my best to respect them and do some things I know will please them, but I don't do it believing it will change their behavior towards me. I know they will never change until they get the help they need and they will never get the help they need until they admit there's a problem.

I accept the qada' and qadr of Allah; these are my parents and this is my life's challenge. I accept it even though I do not like it (and Allah does not ask us to like our hardships). I accept that I do not enjoy my family's company nor like my parents (and If you think it is bad for a person to say they do not like their parents, imagine how it is to say it and feel it). Now I must learn how to fully accept who I am and who my parents are and to deal with them as they are. As others who have been through this can attest, it is a grieving process. Having mentally ill parents is like losing a parent who is still alive; they are physically there but mentally they are not who you thought or hoped they were. My heart aches with a lingering grief that is fed by my parents' continued hurtful behaviors.

Forgiving, but not Forgetting

Although this is probably one of the hardest things to do for someone who has been hurt as deeply as a child who was abused by their parents, forgiveness is essential for the relief of one's soul. In Toxic Parents, Susan Forward says that one does not have to forgive one's parents. I believe, as a Muslim, we should forgive those who have wronged us and that we should also know the limits of our relationship with them. We can forgive someone who robs us, for instance, but that does not mean we invite them into our house. Likewise, abused children should learn to forgive their aggressors, but know that their dealings with them cannot be like that of “normal” families. There must be boundaries, limits and some distance to protect oneself from harm and to prevent enabling of negative behavior.

I believe forgiveness is a journey, not a destination, that takes a lot of healing and personal work. I still bear some anger, resentment, and dislike for my parents and their actions, especially since they still continue their abuse, but it is significantly less than when I started my journey. Knowing that they were abused themselves and that they are suffering from mental illnesses (according to me) does not make it easier for me. In fact, I feel sadder because I know that they, too, are in pain and that if they were to seek professional help and work through the pain, they would begin to heal and get better themselves. I feel sad to think of them dying in such a state, never knowing or feeling connected with each other or their children. I feel sad to think that, if they die before me, that I will never know what it is like to truly love and be loved by a parent. This helps in my path towards forgiveness for me, but I cannot forget. They continue to be harsh and cruel and I have to place a barrier between us.

Recognition, Awareness, and Acknowledgment

Parents can and do abuse their power of authority and misuse/misinterpret verses of the Quran to take advantage of their children. When nothing is mentioned about child abuse, rights of children or obligations of parents, the problem continues. From childhood to adulthood, I believed there was nothing I could do to stop my parents' behavior or to save myself from the attacks. I was told that parents can say or do anything they want and there's nothing the child can do about it (because even saying “uff” was a sin). With my parents having such rights over me, I felt I had no one to talk to and that if I tried, I would be told to be patient, to not speak ill of my parents and to try harder to please my parents. Furthermore, since my parents were known as good people in the community, who would believe me? It would be my word against my parents and, for sure, my parents would call me a liar and say how I twist the truth to make myself look like the victim (exact words my mother has said).

Many people do not recognize their parents behavior as abusive and some parents, who may have been abused themselves, do not recognize their own behavior as abusive. I have heard other people tell me that their parents call them stupid, fat, lazy, ugly, worthless, good-for-nothing and I knew that there were other families like mine in our community.  I knew because my mother would tell me about them. In fact, she would compare their situation to ours and tell me “at least your father isn't as bad as so-and-so”. Nothing was ever said or done because it was a cultural norm (although my mother did admit it was wrong of my father to hit us).

When abused children grow up and have children of their own, if they believed their parents had their best interest in mind and raised them up properly, they will repeat the same mistakes their parents did. One prime example of this is Amy Chua, author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, a memoir of her parenting techniques. She received lots of criticism when an excerpt of her book was published detailing how she pushed her children hard to be the best, accepting nothing less. Just as her parents had raised her, nothing less than an A was acceptable and she expected them to learn and master a musical instrument. In fact, she prevented her daughter from eating, drinking, sleeping or using the restroom until she perfected a musical piece. Chua called her daughter garbage, lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent and pathetic. so that she would push herself harder and never give up. She felt she was exercising good parenting that would give her children the best chances of being successful. Even if they are “successful” (by her or societal standards), the psychological damage she did to her children will most likely create emotional and mental problems.

Like Chua, many Muslims, especially immigrants, believe they are doing what is best for their child, just as their parents did to them. Chua explained that her parents, like many immigrant parents, adapted this way of parenting from their countries of origin and that it was “western” styles of parenting that were creating unsuccessful, careless adults who failed to achieve their full potential. The behavior, however acceptable in other cultures, is nothing less than abuse.

Imams and Shuyukh need to speak about it and open their doors and hearts to those suffering in silence. We also need to have problem solving and life skill workshops for people, like me, in these situations to know how to deal with it. Telling someone to just be patient, to just forgive or to ignore it is very caustic. It is like leaving an open wound untreated and exposed to the germ-filled air – it will not heal and will only get worse. The abuse tears at a person's self-esteem and self-worth, just as water dripping on a rock slowly erodes it. Child abuse is a legacy, usually passed down from generation to generation; those who abuse their children were more likely than not abused themselves as kids. If we do not resolve to cure this disease, we allow it to let it spread and infect the ummah, killing us from within.

Even if you cannot empathize what it feels like to have abusive parents or how someone cannot like their parents, acknowledge and validate that this is true for the person going experiencing it. Understand that not all parents are as loving and caring as they should be and that it is not possible for everyone to please their parents or avoid disobeying them. No one wants to or likes to displease their parents. We seek our parents' approval in life; they are our mirrors. It is heart-wrenching to look into either parent's eyes and see disappointment. But when there is dysfunction in the brain's processes, when there is mental illness, is very challenging to please that person. They have a set standard that is difficult, if not impossible, to reach and will only lead to denial and sacrifice of one's self to achieve.

Know that when so much emphasis is put on rights of the parents, treating them with respect and not disobeying them and none on the obligations of parents and right of their children, that it creates an advantage for abusive parents and a detriment to the abused child. Just as I did growing up, they may feel lower than dirt because their parents are displeased with them simply for being different and expressing their individuality . Although I know my parents' labeling me a disobedient child is based on irrational and unattainable standards, I still feel guilt and fear when I hear that disobedience to parents is a major sin.

Counseling, Support Groups, and Books

I believe everyone can benefit from psychological counseling, regardless of whether they have been abused or live with mental illness (in one way or another). A Muslim counselor is ideal, but not always possible and, depending on the therapist, may not even be helpful. Some counselors have received sensitivity training to deal with first generation americans and/or Muslim clients.

Support groups in your area or online may also be helpful; it helped me feel less alone when I knew someone understood the pain of what I was going through. Some states have support groups for adult children of child abuse and other support groups offer help for loved ones of those suffering from mental illness.  Although it was formed for people with alcoholic family members, Al-Anon has been suggested for those dealing with abuse, dysfunctional families and/or someone with a mental illness

There are many self-help books that can help a person set healthy boundaries, deal with their emotions and heal the pain. There are none for or by Muslims that I know of and this is an area which we need to become active in.

Closing Remarks

Even though I received validation from books and my counselors, I still feel isolated and unsupported by the Muslim community. I still sense that my story will be seen as another child trying to complain about or blacken their parents who are only doing what's best for their child(ren). I still believe that there are very few, if any, imams or scholars who will stand beside me and give me validation and guidance to do what is right and best for me and my health. It took us many years to finally acknowledge spousal abuse amidst our Ummah and yet we still struggle to support our sisters going through it. How long then will it take us to finally admit to the problem of child abuse in Muslim families? And while women's shelters and domestic violence programs/workshops are being developed to help women abused by their husbands to escape, what can Muslim children who are abused by their parents do? While staying with abusive parents is detrimental to their health,  abused children cannot divorce their parents nor, if they are minors or financially dependent, can they leave their homes.

Alhamdulillah, I am one of the fortunate ones who has sought and found help through counseling. I recognize the problems within my family and myself and aspire to help others in similar situations to recognize that they are not at fault, that they can and should respect themselves by not subjecting themselves to the verbal and emotional abuse. We, as an ummah, need to begin discussing the effects of domestic violence on children; if a spouse is being abused, the children in the family may be abused as well. If the abused spouse refuses to seek help or admit that there is abuse, the children will continue to be in harm's way.

MashaAllah, according to my counselor, I have made great shifts in my way of being within myself and with my family. My work with my counselor and with myself (through books and practices) are based on the goals of healing, forgiving and moving on, to undo damage that was (and is) caused by living in such a household. There is no way all the damage can be undone, but at least its impact can be lessened.  I have learned to set healthy boundaries, learned to respect myself, and learned to remove myself from a harmful situation. I now know that I can respect my parents and respect my own need for safety, that honoring my parents does not mean I have to listen to them berate me, and that walking away is not a sin when it is done respectfully.

I feel a sort of catharsis from releasing what I have hid from even my most trusted and closest friends and sense some healing from using my negative experience to invoke positive change. In telling my story, I hope to raise awareness, fuel discussion and inspire others to start talking about a topic that has deeply affected my livelihood and the lives of thousands of Muslims. Although I submit this anonymously, by finally speaking out and being heard, I choose to have a voice for myself and for those who feel they cannot speak. I choose to remain anonymous to protect myself from unwanted attention and unneeded pity or sympathy, and to protect the identities of my family members. Everything written here is true and this is only a glimpse of what I went and still go through. I pray it benefits the ummah to have this brought out into the open. May Allah protect us all from such hardships and help those of us who've lived through it to heal. Ameen.

Note: This is not meant to be a generalization about Muslim women, if it applies to you then take benefit, if it does not then use it to assist others who it might apply to, but do not take offence as that is not my intention. I debated with myself for many months on whether to write about this topic or not. It is a controversial issue and many people might misunderstand the article. Nonetheless, recent developments in the lives of some Shuyookh that I know personally made me realize the importance of writing about this topic.

When I first began studying Islam and getting involved in Islamic work, one of the major motivators for me was that this field would keep me away from the fitnah of the opposite gender. For every young man and woman, one of the greatest trials we face is dealing with members of the opposite gender without falling into sin. Originally, and it was naive of me, I thought Islamic work would put me in a position in which I would not have to deal with these situations. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

There is a trend among contemporary, practicing Muslims which I find rather disturbing, this trend is what I call a “Shaykhy Crush”. I have noticed at many Islamic events, from classes to conferences, practicing Muslim women who follow the Deen in dress and Ibadah, developing crushes and falling in love with the speakers and teachers. This has led to many dangerous scenarios.

The following are a few real life examples I have encountered:

1) At an Islamic course, some sisters were discussing how handsome the Shaykh is. When an elderly sister told them not to talk about him like that as he is married, they responded, “So what? We can still marry him,” and continued their discussion.

2) At an Islamic conference, many sisters were not discussing the content of the lectures but how beautiful the Imam sounded with his gorgeous French accent, or how “handsome and sweet” another Shaykh's smile was. “It melts my heart” were words I heard.

3) Recently, a Shaykh took a second wife, this triggered a discussion online between sisters who admitted they were “going gaga” over him and wished they were his second wife.

4) A sister recently told a Shaykh that she is no longer satisfied with her husband as she is only attracted to students of knowledge now. A married sister told her teacher that she is unsatisfied with her husband and had a dream that she was married to him.

5) A Shaykh deleted his Facebook account because married women on Facebook were claiming to have fallen in love with him.

These are just few of many such incidents that I have encountered in this field. As to what is the cause of this, Allah knows best. Perhaps some of our sisters can shed some light on this for us in the comments section. It could be that studying Islam has been glamorized and students of knowledge are treated like celebrities or it could be that some Shuyookh unintentionally do things that attract women. Many times these feelings may be natural as Muslim women may see an ideal man in a married teacher of knowledge but acting upon this feelings is unwise. Furthermore, social engineering promoted by sites like Facebook makes behavior, like comments, that would never be acceptable face to face, seem normal. We have to remember that there is still a human behind that wall with a family. I do not know the exact causes but this is definitely a growing problem in Western countries.

The problems that arise from this situation are multiple; here are some of the major issues:

1) Corruption of a student of knowledge's intentions. We, students, are human and love women just as much as the next man (I'm going to get in trouble for saying that), so when we are trying to teach Islam and keep ourselves and our thoughts chaste, the female fans don't make it easy for us. I noticed many students of knowledge starting to dress smarter and act differently when they realize they have the attention of the single sisters and there is a major chance that this can affect their intention of teaching for the sake of Allah.

2) Too many single sisters want to marry a Shaykh, and some begin to consider polygamy. The problem here is that the Shaykh might not be interested in such a relationship, and in an extreme case or two, a Shaykh rejecting such a notion has led to jealousy and harassment of the Shaykh and his wife.

3) Married sisters begin to develop crushes on their teachers and start to compare their husbands to the teacher, which leads to dissatisfaction in their marriage and eventually marital conflicts.

4) Sometimes the Shaykh and his wife have a happy marital life until a sister (or two) ask him if he wants a second wife, without considering his current wife's feelings. This can cause problems between the Shaykh and his wife, as well as jealousy and could lead to the breakdown of a once-happy marriage.

5) There is always the potential danger of Zina, even with students of knowledge especially if the attraction is mutual.

These are just some of the negative consequences of this trend. I would like to conclude with some advice for both the sisters and the Shaykhs.

Advice to sisters who are seeking knowledge:

1) Lower your gaze: Remember that he is your teacher, a man of Islamic knowledge and a married man too. So look at him with respect, not desire.

2) Purify your intentions: When attending a lecture, make a sincere intention to learn and benefit from the teacher for the sake of Allah, and do not attend just because Shaykh Yusuf is teaching and you love the sound of his voice. I do not want to discourage any sister from seeking knowledge, just gently reminding them of Shaytan's plot.

3) Walk in her shoes: Think about his wife and her feelings and do not say or do anything that could cause a problem in their marriage.

4) Choose a husband realistically: Not every woman can marry a Shaykh, so focus on finding a good Muslim man who will care for you and do not compare him to the Shuyookh. Find a good guy and thank Allah for allowing you to marry him and appreciate his efforts to please you.

5) Modesty is key: Remember that talking about how handsome the Shaykh is against haya and not befitting students of knowledge to discuss their teacher in such a manner with each other.

Advice to young Shuyookh in dealing with this Fitnah:

1) Lower Your Gaze: Do not look at the sisters in the audience too much. Focus your gaze on the men in your audience. If there is a sister who attracts you or you know is attracted to you, do not look at her at all (without being rude or disrespectful).

2) Purify Your Intention: Always remember that you are teaching for the sake of Allah and not to attract a female fan club so behave appropriately and modestly.

3) Avoid any unnecessary interaction with women. Do not keep single sisters on your instant messenger contact list, or talk to them for hours on the phone, and if they catch you in the hallway to ask a question, keep it brief, polite and to the point.

4) Think about your wife: Anytime you are attracted to a student of yours, think about your wife and everything she does for you. Think about her sacrifices and this will fill you with guilt for even feeling such attraction to another woman.

5) Dress up better for your wife than others: It should not be such that whenever you go out to teach a class, you are dressed in your best thowb with your best Itr, while at home you do not bother looking (or smelling good) for your wife. Remember the example of Ibn Abbas and deal with your wife accordingly.

6) Get married: If you are serious about polygamy, do it the right way so that people do not gossip or spread rumors about you and you avoid breaking any sister's heart.

I hope these tips help us all to remain firm on the straight path. Remember the devils spend more time trying to mislead those who are walking the righteous path and so we need to be careful of these pitfalls of Shaytaan in which he tries to use our good deeds (teaching, studying) to lead us to commit sins.

Anything good I have said is from Allah, and any mistakes are my own and we seek refuge in Allah from giving wrong advice and from all forms of fitnah.

In the morning, before my father and I go our separate ways to work, we chat amiably. “Good luck on your day.” “Hope business is good.” And our one response to everything: “Inshallah.” God willing.

I get into my mini-SUV and head off to the hospital, groaning about the lack of sleep, the lack of time, but also knowing that I am driving off to what has always been my dream.

My father gets into his blue taxi, picks up his radio and tells the dispatcher he's ready. Then he waits. He waits for someone wanting to go somewhere. He waits to go home to my mother, the woman he calls “the boss.” Maybe today will be a good day. He will call her up and tell her he is taking her out tonight. He can do that now that we're all grown up; now that he doesn't have to save every dime for the “what-ifs” and the “just-in-cases.”

There is very little complaining in his car. His day starts off with a silent prayer, then a pledge: Hudaya ba omaide hudit. God, as you wish. Then he hums or sings. Some songs are about love and some about loss. They are all about life. He sings. He smiles the whole time.

My father is the type of person who is content to listen, but I love it when he speaks. There is wisdom there, although he does not intend there to be.

“What's new?” he'll ask over a Saturday morning breakfast.

“Not much,” I reply. “My life revolves around these books, Dad; there is little to say unless you want to hear about the urinary tract.”

“You know when Gandhi's minister of foreign affairs died, his only true possessions were books. It is the sign of a life worth living,” he replies and begins to butter his toast.

Sometimes, the years of education and learning shine through the injuries and lost dreams. I get a glimpse of the man who once existed, and the one who never will. Who would he have been, I wonder, if the bombs hadn't come down in 1978? What if I could take away the time he spent in a coma, the years of treatment and surgery, the broken bones and disabilities. What if there were no refugee ghettos, no poverty, no fear, no depression written in his life history. Who could he have been? The thought saddens me, but intrigues me as well. Is it possible that he is who he is because the life he has lived has been filled with such tragedy? Perhaps these stories were the making of my hero.

Sometimes he'll tell me about his college days, about an Afghanistan I have never known and very few people would believe ever existed.

“In the College of Engineering, there was this lecture hall, with seats for 1,000 students,” his says as eyes begin to get bigger. “At the end of the lecture, the seats would move. The whole auditorium would shift as you spun along the diameter. The engineering of the building itself was very interesting.” He continues to describe the construction details, then sighs. “I wonder if it's still around?”

There is a pause. For 25 years I have tried to fill that silence, but I have never quite figured out what to say. I guess silence goes best there. He is the next one to speak. “You see, even your old-aged father was once part of something important.”

When he says things like that I want to scream. I don't want to believe that the years can beat away at you like that. I don't want to know that if enough time passes, you begin to question what was real or who you are. I am unconcerned with what the world thinks of him, but it is devastating to know that he at times thinks less of himself.

We are the same, but we are separated. People don't see him in me. I wish they would. I walk in with a doctor's white coat or a suit or my Berkeley sweatshirt and jeans. High heels or sneakers, it doesn't matter, people always seem impressed with me. “Pediatrician, eh?” they say. “Well, good for you.”

I wonder what people see when they look at him. They don't see what I see in his smile. Perhaps they see a brown man with a thick accent; perhaps they think, another immigrant cabdriver. Or perhaps it is much worse: Maybe he is a profile-matched terrorist, aligned with some axis of evil. “Another Abd-ool f—–g foreigner,” I once heard someone say.

Sometimes the worst things are not what people say to your face or what they say at all, it is the things that are assumed. I am in line at the grocery store, studying at a cafe, on a plane flying somewhere.

“Her English is excellent; she must have grown up here,” I hear a lady whisper. “But why on earth does she wear that thing on her head?”

“Oh, that's not her fault,” someone replies. “Her father probably forces her to wear that.”

Read the rest on here

Na'ima is author of the best-selling book From My Sister's Lips and has been published in The Observer, The Times and is a regular contributor to The Times Online Faith section.

Her second book for teens, Boy vs. Girl, is out now. Grab a copy now from Amazon (UK) or download the Kindle e-book (US)

The trailer for her new book can be viewed here.

You’re an author AND editor of SISTERS. What made you want to write?

I became Muslim in my second year of university, and then married in third year. I moved to South London in 2000 and began teaching in Brixton. After my son was born, I started a home school. As my son started growing, I wanted to spend more time with him but it was difficult with the home school that I was running. I then got the inspiration to write children’s stories and poems and sent them to several publishers, both Islamic and multicultural. The multicultural publishers loved it and I began my publishing career with one of the multicultural publishers. I eventually branched out with Tango Books and that was how I met my agent, an American from New York. I invited her to dinner in my home, because I cover and couldn’t uncover and enjoy dinner with her properly in a restaurant. When I met her, I told her about Islam, modesty and hijab. My agent then told me that she could get my first book published, From My Sisters’ Lips. I did a book tour in South Africa, where a lot of women were inspired by the book and then the idea for the magazine flowered.

I decided to move to Egypt about three and a half years ago, around the same time SISTERS began. I came to the UK in the summer to spend some time with a Somalian youth group and that’s where the idea for ‘From Somalia with Love’ came from.

I write books to deal with the issues affecting children and the youth. I want to reach out to young people.  ‘From My Sisters’ Lips’ was a book that I could write at the time because of the state and position I was in at the time.

What inspired you to start SISTERS magazine?

The ethos of the magazine is: be beautiful, be gorgeous, be glam, but when you go out…just cover it up. There was no other alternative [magazine] for Muslim women out there.

Prior to writing your new teen novel, Boy vs. Girl, you wrote another book aimed at teens - From Somalia, with Love. What made you want to write teen novels?

Young children are emphasised in the West to read. I know what kind of novels they read, Harry Potter, Twilight, all the vampire romance stories. There were no alternatives to represent Muslim teens. Girls are more emotionally susceptible to reading, especially romance. Girls’ books are constantly about boys and romance and it’s around the age of 13-16 years where girls have self-esteem issues and therefore want to be able to identify with emotional feelings, to feel wanted. It’s not easy being a teen, because these books feed the nafs and their desires, and their need to feel beautiful about themselves. Stylish hijabs and being a ‘hijabista’ show that one should be beautiful to the outside world, despite covering – somewhat of a paradox.

We need to be careful of the messages being portrayed to young girls, and being a ‘fashionable hijabi’ says that one can be covered and still have ‘it’, which is the opposite of being a humble, modest Muslim woman.

What inspired you to write this book? Is it based on a true story?

After writing ‘From Somalia, with Love’, the Pakistani culture felt suitable to write about. However, it was MUCH harder, much more challenging than writing about Somalian culture. I was interested in seeing the double standards between how boys are raised and how girls are raised, for example, boys going out at night and no one questioning them as to where they’re going and with whom, whereas with girls, they need to have a chaperone.

In reality, it should be the other way around. I find the carefree attitude towards boys to be a crime. They’re totally left to their own devices and to their own peril. They end up going towards gang culture, pornography, etc. When I was writing ‘Boy vs. Girl’, I realised the original story was set 10 years back. I really wanted to focus on parents who were brought up in the UK, aged around the mid-40s.  I wanted to make Faraz (the male protagonist) a dynamic character. I also wanted to bring Malik (one of the characters in the story) to the fore and show that the heroine, Farhana, could do the right thing. However, being very cautious of appearing to glamourise the wrong, I needed to do my bit to enjoin the good.

Boy vs. Girl touches on some very sensitive issues, such as gang culture and drugs. Do you think that Muslims who are involved in gangs themselves would want to pick up a copy of this book?

I’m not quite sure. It depends on how much they read.

This book is a way of flagging up to the older generations that their sons are not safe out there. Faraz is vulnerable and his parents don’t know about his passion for art and his unsuitable friends. Teenagers lead a double life and parents are completely clueless about it.

The book also touches on a deeply religious character, Najma, having a very extrovert personality amongst her own family and friends. Do you think many readers will find this to be a realistic portrayal of a woman in niqab? Or do you think it will dispel some of the theories and stereotypes that people generally hold about ‘strict’ Muslims?

The whole point of Najma was not to be a boring person, but to be like every other niqabi out there. She was brought in to show that being a niqabi or even just deeply religious doesn’t mean that one loses their personality. I wanted to subvert the stereotype and show that she wasn’t the type to constantly give lectures. It was important to make her appealing, understanding and fun. It’s probably not what people are expecting.  Najma reflects the ideal scenario.

The female protagonist, Farhana, faces some family criticism when she chooses to wear hijab. What advice would you give to women who are currently going through the process of covering themselves and having difficulty with parents/family/friends accepting this change?

Farhana became pensive and quiet when she first started wearing hijab, but I didn’t want her to lose her personality, particularly since she is an outspoken, A-grade student at school.

For sisters who are going through the same process, keep reminding yourself of your intention. Covering must be for the sake of Allah. When it comes to the crunch, your friends won’t be there. You have to be patient with your parents, but stay strong. Make lots of du’a, because Allah is in charge of everything and everyone. We must turn to Him. It’s a real Tawheed and ihsaan thing. It’s important to realise that we will face problems and trials when following the Straight Path and that it’s part of the deen to be tested. Bottom line: stay strong and humble.

Some may criticise your choice on writing fiction with the opinion that fiction is haraam and the fact that the front cover has a picture of a girl with her awrah uncovered. What would you have to say to that?

With regards to fiction, I’m not going to get into the religious discussion. In an ideal world, there would be no need for fiction. But I took the decision for writing fiction because children are reading it already and I felt I had to provide alternative fiction. I wanted to get into the children genre and subvert everything by bringing in reminders and reflect what kids are going through. When it comes to fiction, there are different grades of it, from trash to learning from the books. We learn about history and facts from non-fiction books, but I find that stories tell a lot about the culture of a particular era.

These books [Na’ima’s novels] humanise Islam and Muslims. We are under so much scrutiny and pressure [in the media], but Muslims who are out there writing don’t always write about Muslims in the true light. Everyone has a haraam element in their life; it’s what you do about them that make the difference. Therefore, it would be unrealistic to write a book about a perfect Muslimah as the majority of readers can’t relate to that. The Muslim narrative shows what’s really happening with the deen, it tells people that they can write their own narrative. Additionally, you can tell a lot about an author from what they write.

As for the front cover, it wasn’t my choice and I’m not in a position to veto. I tried to avoid it as much as possible, but the publishers went ahead with it. It’s a regret of mine and if I had my way, I wouldn’t have it there at all.

Some of my favourite parts of the book were when some of the daily issues that every Muslim child goes through were brought up…such as the generation and cultural gap between parent and child, the moon sighting debate, the gluttonous attitude towards Ramadan, treating segregation of sexes as a minor issue, culture coming before Islam, etc. I felt this book raised several important issues. But the main one that struck a chord with me was the differences in thinking between the parents and the children. What advice would you give to children who are going through that? And any advice to parents who want to understand their children better?

This book is a way to tell parents that they must allow children to be real with them. Even if they don’t talk to you, they shouldn’t feel that their children aren’t up to anything bad.

I’m not sure if book would bridge the parent-child gap. It wouldn’t, because those issues aren’t resolved in the book and it was not my original intention. Najma gets married, but the racism factor in the book remains unresolved. It [the book] may not solve the problems, but it’s good to discuss them with family and raise these issues to bring the answer forward.

I find that with traditional women, the mother is the role of a care-taker. They may not be up-to-date with their kids’ lives, such as school, friends, Internet, and the cultural divide is there. It appears that getting to know them doesn’t seem to be part of a mother’s role.

Is there a happy ending for Malik and Farhana?

I liked Malik. He’s a good guy all around and not a player. He loves Farhana for real. When he sees her in hijab, he’s genuine and he respects what she stands for and why she’s doing what she’s doing. The ending was ambiguous to give some hope for Farhana. But she’s still young, only 16-17 years old, so who knows what could happen?

I have a couple of other questions…if there was one turning point that led you to convert to Islam, what was it?

The woman in Egypt wearing hijab. She was beautiful but she covered and it led me to question the superficiality behind beauty and I delved further into learning about Islam as a result of it.

What are your favourite books? Fiction/non-fiction?

I have a weakness for world literature. I read very few novels and only read them for research. If I want to read about a people or a time or place, then that’s the only time I read fiction. For example, if one wanted to learn about Regency society, they would read Jane Austen.

I also enjoy reading non-fiction, biographies, social commentary. A recommendation would be ‘Toxic Childhood’ by Sue Palmer.

I am a strong believer in reading widely. My father did his PhD from Oxford University and would encourage reading widely and well. I love reading Islamic history, too, especially Road to Mecca.

I’d like to add that if you’re already a reader of fiction, then I challenge you to read non-fiction. Non-fiction challenges certain faculties of the brain in a way that fiction doesn’t.

I also have a library at home, where I’ve built up my collection of books over the years. It keeps growing.

What are your favourite chocolates?

I do not like bid’ah (innovatory) chocolates!! Any chocolates that have nuts, raisins, caramel, biscuit or any other crazy combination are not nice. Plain chocolates such as Dairy Milk and Belgian chocolates are suitable.

You must be a very busy person…how do you relax in your own time?

I don’t believe in being superwoman. Something’s got to give. People make their own choices. The hardest thing for me to do is to find time to write. I do my SISTERS work when the children are at school and I have a helper for washing, etc. I love cooking but I try to maintain a balance with 4 children.

I believe that Allah (subhaanahu wa ta’ala) blesses your time. Allah (subhaanahu wa ta’ala) makes it easy. I’m not organised or super-disciplined at all, but I am very driven. I do, however, sleep very little.

Right now, I want to work on my own private study. I’m going to take a writing hiatus for a little while to perfect my Arabic, insha’Allah.

I do have 3 more books in the pipeline. 'My Halal Love Story' is a trilogy and it shows that getting married is not the end of it.

Finally, what advice would you give to budding writers?

Read a lot. Read widely and well. Also read critically. If a story is blatantly about an adulterous relationship, don’t read it, because you’ll be drawn into it and it’s better to stay away from stuff that compromises your beliefs and principles.

Write, write and write some more. Write whatever you want. Keep reading. If you don’t read, your vocabulary will become limited. Part of good writing is the ability to express oneself. Being able to express yourself well can never be in vain. It’s important to arm children with that skill.

Writing requires more work than reading will. Also, keep a happy, inspirational journal – one with happy thoughts or eureka moments.

A letter written by sister Na’ima to her readers:

Bismillah

The first time I wrote about an encounter between a Muslim girl and boy in my book 'From Somalia, with Love', I flinched. It was too real, the emotions too disturbing, too difficult to deal with. I considered re-writing. I considered leaving it out. I considered glossing it over. But then I decided, no, this is reality. Yes, it is fictionalised, but its roots are firmly fixed in the reality of the human experience. This is what it feels like to be young and impressionable, shy and slightly lacking in confidence – and have a boy tell you that you're special.

I flinched when writing it and I flinched when reading it once the book was done. But I read on. I could not afford to flinch. We cannot afford to flinch.

Indeed, tackling the issues that face our youth, as any youth worker will tell you, requires us to be unflinching. It requires unflinching honesty and an acknowledgement that things will not always be as they should be. It requires an acknowledgement of our flaws, of our weaknesses, of our humanity.

This can be difficult for Muslims. We are, after all, striving towards an ideal – to be the 'ideal Muslim/Muslimah' who does the fara'id, stays away from haraam and, generally, upholds the ideals of Islam.

We do not want to acknowledge the aspects of our existence that do not fit with where we should be. And we certainly don't want to acknowledge them in our children, in young Muslims. These young people, we reason, have been raised with Islam in the home, they have been taught tawheed from birth, they have always covered, never mixed with the opposite gender, never seen alcohol, cigarettes, drugs being consumed, been taught to love the Sunnah and to love Islam. This is what we say.

So, when these kids start to explore their own identities and use their own filters, we start to see them making different choices from the ones we trained them to make. We see them wanting to cut their hair into mohicans, get piercings in unusual places, download Beyonce onto their iPods and quote Lady Gaga in their Facebook updates.

These are kids who, in spite of everything we've taught them, insist on getting themselves into trouble: they miss their salah when out with their friends, they cuss, they come home past curfew, they wear tight clothes, they flirt, they have crushes and, today, they are engaging in premarital sex.

The article on anger among young Muslims in America on MuslimMatters got me thinking. According to the statistics quoted, 99% of Muslim children are in public school. Can you imagine what that must be like for them? The total disconnection between what (some of them) are taught at home and the rest of the society that they live in? How do they negotiate this dichotomy? How do they strike a balance between these conflicting influences?

And what do we as adults do to help them through this difficult growth period?

We do our best to ignore it: we stick our heads in the sand about the unsavoury friends, the girls on the IM, Fifty Cent. Why? Because admitting that these things are a fitnah for our children, in spite of everything we've taught them, is tantamount to admitting that we have failed as parents, as elders, as examples.

But denial only serves to exacerbate the problem. The youth don't need our judgement, much of which only serves to push them further away from Islam; they need our support and understanding. They need our honesty. They need us to keep it real.

There are those who manage to keep it real. Those who choose to actively engage with the youth, on their level, addressing their issues. These are the unflinching ones, the ones with the courage to admit that there is a problem and that it's going to take more than a couple of khutbahs to address it. These are the youth workers, the speakers, the teachers, the brother/sister that the kids know they can go to for advice without judgement.

These are the people to whom I dedicated 'Boy vs. Girl'.

I like to think that, in some small way, I am one of these people, bi'idhnillah.

Because when I write for young people, I write with an agenda, with a particular niyyah. Many Young Adult (YA) authors claim not to be trying to 'say' anything in their work, but I doubt that is true. Some of who you are, what you believe, what you hold dear, will filter through into your work. This is certainly the case with me. My Islam and my views about life and youth and adversity are laid bare in every book I write. I cannot write otherwise.

So, where am I going with all this? I guess I am trying to illustrate the context of my writing 'From Somalia, with Love' and my new book, 'Boy vs. Girl'. In ways that (I hope) are subtle and nuanced, I wanted to address some of the issues faced by our youth and suggest an alternative way of dealing with them, a way that is nourished by imaan. The truth is, almost every YA title out there addresses issues that teens face to varying degrees. However, Muslim teens face the usual 'growing pains' issues as well as other issues that arise from their religious and cultural identities. It is these issues that I tried to address.

In 'Boy vs. Girl', the challenges faced by the second-generation Pakistani protagonists are many. From low self esteem, and inter-generational misunderstandings to the lure of the gang and forbidden love, Faraz and Farhana have a lot to contend with as they embark on their first 'true' Ramadan. Will they manage to withstand the pressure from their peers and stick to their new Islamic identities? At what cost? These are the book's central dilemmas.

I hope that the struggles faced by both Faraz and Farhana will resonate with anyone reading 'Boy vs. Girl' – and that they will be strengthened and uplifted by their journey and its telling.

As I begin work on the next book in this genre, I only hope that I am managing to capture just a little of what it is to be young and Muslim today – and that I am able to offer just a quantum of solace, a little comfort, a bit of compassion to make the journey that little bit easier. Allahumma ameen.

All good is from Allah and any mistakes are from myself and the Shaitaan.

A book review of 'Boy vs. Girl' is coming soon, insha'Allah.

CANDID but demure, an online sex shop for Muslims has been launched in the Netherlands to tap into a demand for erotica that does not offend Sharia law.

“We had about 70,000 hits in the first four days,” founder Abdelaziz Aouragh said of his site that went online last week and claims to be the world's first erotic webshop for Muslims.

The 29-year-old Dutch national said it targeted married Muslim couples as an alternative to sites “that focus on pornography and the extravagant side of erotica” — things forbidden in Islam.

The home page of El Asira, which means “Society” in Arabic, is a sober black and grey street with a line down the centre, inviting women to enter on the left and men on the right.

Once inside, clients can browse in Dutch, Arabic or English through more than a dozen products, mainly massage oils, lubricants and tablets that claim to act as aphrodisiacs.

All ingredients are halal, or “permissible under Islam,” said Mr Aouragh, and conspicuously absent are dildos, vibrators and any type of pornography.

“Most of the other products out there have pictures of naked people or foul language — it was very difficult to find ones that I could use in my business,” he said.

Instead, the website shows only photos of boxes, tablets, tubes and bottles — mainly in pink or blue with the brand's logo, a black flame.

“We have chosen a respectful approach,” the site said, proclaiming itself “a novelty in the Islamic world.”

Muslim clerics like Dutch Imam Abdul Jabbar see no harm in Mr Aouragh's site.

“As long as he doesn't sell sex toys or those sorts of things there is no problem,” he told AFP, adding: the Prophet Mohammad gave lots of advice about sex in marriage and “there need not be any shame.”

Mr Aouragh, who is of Moroccan parentage but was born and raised in Amsterdam, remains a practising Muslim while embracing typically Dutch tolerance.

He said his website was also aimed at easing tensions over Muslim migrants in Europe.

“Everybody is talking about Islam in a negative way,” said Aouragh. “I am trying to get something positive out of the dark.

“Muslims also have to deal with stereotypical prejudices by some non-Muslims on the topic of sexuality within the Islam.”

“We want to share with other Muslims in a positive way our contribution to a broader view of sexuality and eroticism within the Muslim community,” the website says, “for Muslims themselves, as for others.”

Source: Herald Sun