The Hijab
I see you sitting on the bus, quietly reading,
ignoring those around you who stare and
shake their heads. The scarf that completely covers
the hair I cannot see is peacock blue. My mother’s
favourite.
Her favourite dress, in that warm romantic colour, adorns
her
in my mind, when I go back to that fateful day,
that Wednesday when she told me she was dying, while I was ironing
tea towels (or was it sheets). It doesn’t matter now.
I look at you with my mother’s grace and wonder
what the headscarf means, and why it is important. She would
sit beside you
quietly and let you talk about what you are, and how it give
you self-respect,
that peacock-blue upon your head. However, I would directly
ask you
when it hurts and when it maims, and
how you hide your fears from your children entering their
lives
in this new country you now call home. How do I not fear
those dark, detached eyes, those black as night eyes,
those sad as whining baby eyes? Why do you hide from me?
Do you hide because of guilt or shame? Does the hijab
make you feel safe somehow? Is a scarf upon my head
not making the same statement? I want to understand why I
cannot see your hair
and how your hair deserves protection from my eyes.
I want to understand so I can help you to be free from fear.
©
Catherine Woods 2017
No comments:
Post a Comment