Yusra Dahri, Surrey
For as long as I can remember, I have been living here in the UK. I grew up in full view of the passing train and formidable trees. On the terrace I stood in awe of the mosque next to me. From my bedroom window, I could see the tip of a church spire. Five times a day, my heart would be filled with peace from sound of adhan and namaz. Sometimes on Sundays I would hear the chiming church bell ring. My childhood days were spent happily in a world of diversity and culture. I never felt deprived of a single thing. In fact, as a child I was amazed with how much there was, how much could exist and coexist.
That said, I did sometimes feel that when I stepped out of home into school (and vice versa), I had stepped into a different world. Growing up, people at school were very willing to understand Islam: I just had to provide an explanation why. This wasn’t a bad thing, in fact the opposite. I gained a deeper understanding of my own religion through explaining it to others. Still, as a small child, it can be startling to suddenly have to find the words for something that passed silently as something already understood between cousins and members of my community my own age. In primary school I found that living in the West gave me a voice to answer questions and actively seek out knowledge. I didn’t always know all of the answers, and that was something I’d have to accept, reflect, and improve on. To me, the difficulty of confrontation gradually became just another way to learn.
In ways I didn’t expect, my faith aided in me in school in general. Not just when Islam came up in my Religious Studies’ lessons, but other areas too. When I used to learn prayers from the Holy Qur’an, I would try and learn the English translation too. This greatly improved my vocabulary. Furthermore when in school we had to study classic texts in English lessons, I found it easier to adapt to the more formal style of writing. Again, because prayers were translated in a similar style. I found my faith promoted a spirit of educating oneself that I was able to apply to school. Generally Western countries are known for being well educated, but I also feel the presence of Islam in my life greatly ameliorated my ‘western’ education.
By the time I was around 11 or 12 years old, events started appearing in the news that drew the critical eye of the Western world to Islam. However this time I was in a much bigger school as a much smaller minority. Though no one ever said a nasty word to me about it, in fact, no one really seemed to care about religion at all. This created a strange type of isolation within me, and contrary to my childhood days, I wanted people to talk to me about Islam. But I still didn’t know all the answers and as I watched the media do what they liked with my religion, I was content to remain silent. However, this didn’t last for very long. Eventually the uncertainty of a new school wore off and I refocused my efforts in learning about Islam. I spoke out more, and explained more. In Year 7 we had to make a project about pilgrimage so I made a board game about the Holy Kaaba. In Year 9 some other Muslim girls and I gave a year group assembly about Eid. In my RS lessons I would offer Islamic perspectives. When we discussed feminism I explained how Islam gave women the right to own property and divorce over 1400 years ago.
Perhaps if I had grown up in a Muslim country I wouldn’t have had to try as hard to understand Islam in the context of the Western world, but I am glad that I did. I am blessed in the sense that I am supported by my family and entire community of Ahmadi Muslims, especially Lajna Ima’illah, where I can be encouraged and inspired by women with similar experiences to my own. When I think of the hardships the Holy Prophet (May the peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) and his companions had to face for the sake of Islam, I realise that my own struggles are only the result of hesitation and fear. We live in a society that is open minded and willing to listen to us, but first we must speak.
People love to argue Islam cannot integrate with Western values. We live in a society that is addicted to dichotomies. But my childhood and teenage years prove to me otherwise, because I have lived my life exploring all the ways in which coexistence is possible. We have proved the earth is round, so why make our world one-dimensional?
Official Blog of Ahmadiyya Muslim Women's Association UK 
Salam, mashaAllah this article is very excellent. Indeed many young women have difficulty living as Muslim and citizen in their country because some of us feel inferiority complex.
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