this story originally appeared in the philippine daily inquirer on June 21, 2005.
I grew up in a Christian community, which is why it is not hard for me to cope with the environment. I know how to deal with the people; I have even become accustomed to different lifestyles.
When I went to college, I decided to study at the Mindanao State University in Marawi City. There I had the opportunity to live in an environment which many people I know consider a “different” one: a Muslim community. It was there where I finally felt that I truly belonged. I was able to deepen my faith and know my religion better.
But I stayed for only a year at MSU, since I had to study in Davao if I wanted to pursue the course I wanted. So I moved to the big city, little knowing I’d face a lot of things that I hadn’t expected to happen and eventually learn so much in a world gripped in terror.
When I first arrived in Davao, I immediately sensed that something was wrong. Not with me but with the people around me.
I admit that the city’s afternoon sea breeze is quite refreshing and the pleasant sunshine gives me warmth. The whispering wind hugs me and kisses my cheeks every time the sun bids goodbye and the stars that glitter in the sky lift my soul.
One day, I was outside our boarding house, admiring the beauty of nature. Everything seemed so serene, so calm and so perfect-until I recalled what happened during my first 10 months in the city.
I remembered how people used to stare at me as if I had done something wrong or had broken the rules or norms. While on a jeepney, I would notice the other passengers staring at me and observing every little movement I made. When I strolled inside the malls, it seemed as if I was getting everybody’s attention. When I ate in a restaurant or fast-food joint, everyone seemed to be looking at me as if I had done something unusual.
Was there anything wrong with me? Was it the way I ate? The way I dressed? The way I talked?
Months have passed and the same attitude still prevails. I feel like I have been handcuffed and I can’t do whatever I want to do. I feel like I’m caged and I can’t free myself.
Am I different? It seems that I can’t speak my mind. Other people are keeping me from doing the things I want to do and from saying the things I want to say. And because of this, I sometime go home in distress and in tears.
I always end up asking why. Maybe it is because of the head scarf (tandong) that I wear. After war broke out in Mindanao and in the aftermath of the 9/11, Muslims were in the headlines. Nowadays, Muslims are looked upon with suspicion, as if everyone of us might be a terrorist, a traitor, a war freak, an enemy of peace, or even simply uneducated. I have often asked myself: Because I am a Muslim, am I not free to be who I am? Why can’t other people see that like them I also fear war and destruction? That I also cherish peace and tranquility? That I am a human being who seeks justice? Why do I feel so isolated? Others make me feel different although I am not.
I have heard many of my fellow Muslims complain that they felt the same way. But I cannot accept the fact that we, Muslims, are treated as if we were “other people” in our own country. And I can’t think of any other way but this to tell the people what an 18-year-old woman feels about what is happening in the world and especially our country.
I cannot deny that these days, Muslim radicals are on the rampage and terrorizing the world. These radicals kill innocent people and cause suffering to many more. But did it ever occur to our fellowmen that we, Muslims, are as affected as they? We feel terribly sorry for the deaths of those innocent people. After all, qital or indiscriminate killing is not condoned in Islam. At times, we feel angry that some of our Muslim brothers have gone too far. We all suffer. We all grieve. And we all need peace and justice.
We should not solve a problem by creating another problem, much less resort to violence. As United Nations Secretary General Kofi Annan once said, “No cause, however justified, can be advanced by terror.”
While I truly feel sorry for fellow Muslims who are as affected as I am, I am deeply concerned that a number of Muslims are being arrested and detained based on flimsy evidence. On top of that, the treatment we get from people around us hurts-something other people may not be aware of.
Most of the time, I feel like I’m glued to the ground and I can’t run away from these realities. I feel as if my tongue is stuck and I cannot shout loud enough for the whole world to hear my feelings, because I know no one will listen. But I’m certain that I am not alone and I’m definitely not speaking for myself only but also for my brothers and sisters in Islam. Will somebody please hear us?
Promoting understanding and open-mindedness among peoples seems like an elusive dream. However, I am not about to lose hope. I still believe deep down inside me that peace can be attained if we open our hearts and minds and believe it is within reach. But we can never embrace peace without first having peace within ourselves.
This is not about religion. This is not about Muslims being deviant, like what some people think. This is about us, about how we can help achieve the thing called peace and make justice reign in our country.
