What Allah Wants
Know your place, habibti1. We are women, women have their own role. Keep your legs crossed, even when you’re not wearing a dress. Tch, tie your hijab tighter, don’t let your hair be seen. Go wash yourself, do wudhu2 before going to the prayer mats. Sit quietly at the back of the room, behind the men. Keep your head down. Pray to Allah for the health of your family. Don’t be selfish. What are you doing? Don’t take your hijab off until you leave the mosque, if you must. Say hello to all of the khalos and khalas3 before playing dolls with the other girls. Don’t play with the boys, they are mean and rough.
I know my place, Mama. I wait until you have your back turned to sit criss-cross, to think about painting and astronauts and dinosaurs when the imam4 is talking, to rip my hijab off and run with the boys as soon as I’m out of the mosque doors. I know the girls with their dolls are jealous of me, because they’re good girls who listen to their mamas. I don’t know these people, I don’t talk to strangers. I know my place, Mama.
Be modest. Don’t wear shorts that show your thighs. Don’t wear shorts at all. Don’t dye your hair or get tattoos. Why change what Allah made? Don’t date, that’s not right. Hurry, get out of the pool and put on a towel before your umo5 comes over. Come help Mama in the kitchen.
Serve the tea, be a good hostess-in-training. Baba and I are going out, make dinner for yourself and for your brothers when we leave. Your older brother is in charge. Don’t be disrespectful, immodest, loud, assertive. Women have their own role, we are women. Know your place, Habibti.
I know my place, Mama. I’ll cut my shorts to the length I want, I’ll roll them up as soon as
you’re not there. I won’t ask for permission, I’ll ask for forgiveness. I dyed my hair, I have a tattoo, I date boys and girls. Don’t tell Baba, please. Allah wants me to be happy. My umo can treat me like a niece or not look at me. Don’t tell him I said that. I don’t want to make dinner, with you or by myself. I want to play video games with my brothers. I can’t help being disrespectful, immodest, loud, assertive, when you raise me to stop before I even start. I know my place, Mama. Do you know yours?
- sweetie; darling
- the washing process before prayers
- uncles and aunts
- Islamic prayer leader
- uncle, father’s brother
Author Bio: Amani is a senior at UC San Diego, majoring in Literature – Writing. In addition to studying for tests and writing papers in Spanish and English, she likes to listen to music and hang out with her friends. After graduation, she is planning on teaching high school students how to enjoy the full experience of writing and reading.