My hijab has so much baggage. It tells its own story, a story with a mouthpiece that I cannot control.
My hijab lived a past I never endured, but it shows a timeline across my face, neck, back and chest.
My hijab implies struggle. A struggle that I didn’t asked for, nor will I ever fully comprehend.
My hijab is who I am, but I am not my hijab.
Look at me for what I’ve done. Pour my soul on a golden resumé, and tell me what you see. Forget what you’re looking at, squint to find WHOM you’re looking at.
My hijab is the avenger of my mobility,
and the redefiner of my nobility.
I’m telling you about the hijab of piety, hence i implore you to show some sense of responsibility.
My hijab is not just a garment of beauty, but, the enhancer of the quality of my personality.
I am who I am, and I will always be who I’ll be. Even though my hijab defines me for now, one day there will be just you and me.
Forgetting about the painful discriminatory history. Smiling at the smooth, beautiful me.
Much like, my hijab.
~ Abdul Hakim Hussein