Veiled PAGE

Email:   vulcan@anarchocat.com

9

Whitsunday:

Kamila Boehm:

Today is my great day. Today I will convert to Islam. Amber, Samira and I - Kamila were dressed by our sisters. Only today we are allowed to be Niqaabi all day and all night. However, soon the day will come when we Muslimahs will be permitted to wear the Allah-suitable Niqaab garment forever, said the Imam. It is so beautiful. It's all black and partly silk with tiny gold-plated applications. The niqaab is three-layered and of green silk. When we were dressed we three stood next to each other and looked at each other in the mirror. We were three identical ghosts. Simply beautiful. Then we pulled all three niqaab layers over our faces and were blind as a bat. No man should recognise us today, and we don't want to face one. We speak our creed in an adjoining room of the mosque muffled by our veils - no man will recognise our voices. We are nothing and everything and equal - we are Niqaabi! We went into the women's hall. We spoke the Shahada. There was a joyful, loud trilling of the women and the men shouted three times: "Allahu'akbar". We withdrew to the women's wing. There we were spoiled with sweets. We sang our songs and prayed. My Mother came to me and kissed and congratulated me. I sincerely hope that she will convert soon. She said:

"Dad is anxious. I know it is an extraordinary day for you. But out of love for Dad, put on a Hijaab and come home with me." Hassina also came to me and said:

"You can also collect points for paradise if you sacrifice something in love with your parents. Remember, Allah is omnipresent". Sadly I nodded. I said goodbye to the sisters and went with my mother to change clothes. Mother said when she put on her old western clothes:

"Curiously I understand you, my child, I have somehow also got used to the veils. I don't feel properly dressed in these clothes at all"

. Hassina had given me a homemade beige silk abaya, which reached up to my waist. I pulled it over my dark blue Hijaab, which I pulled deep into my face. When I held my hands a little high and my head lowered, not much of my naked skin could be seen. It was an unfortunate but workable compromise for me. Then we went to the entrance where Papa was waiting for us. I saw the joy in his face when he saw me and also his gloomy concern. I rushed into his arms and pressed him as hard as I could. Then I said:

"I love you Dad! Please rejoice with me and forget about outward appearances like my clothes because your daughter is happy. "

"Child, I was terrified for you. But now I have you back."

When we arrived at the car, my mother climbed back to me. We both looked at each other with a conspiratorial grin on our faces. Dad looked at us in amazement through the rear-view mirror but said nothing. The poor man was quite overwhelmed, and it was supposed to get even thicker for him. When we were at home, Sophia came towards us.

"You did it, sis. You are a real Muslim now?", she asked me halfway.

"That is called Muslimah, little sister! And so I am a convert." We fell into each other's arms and greeted each other warmly and then we went into the house. Sophia and I withdrew to our rooms. Sophia looked at my two big suitcases and asked:

"Are all these new clothes? I just nodded,

"Let's do a fashion show first," she said,

"No, we'll empty my wardrobe first. Anything you want."

"What? Everything? Are you crazy?"

"Take it, I don't need it any more!" First she took my favourite jeans and looked at me questioningly.

"Everything yours or garbage!" I said laughing. Five minutes later I had an empty wardrobe, and my sister had disappeared with my stuff.