Tudung - My story

Tudung - a highly sensitive, emotional and even political word. A word that evokes protest to some, and passion to others. "Tudung" is simply a Malay word that describes a piece of cloth that covers the head & neck of a Muslim lady. Yet, it has created an avenue for political agenda sometime in Jan 2002. I still remembered that year where pictures of innocent dole eyed 7-year old girls in tudung were splashed all over the major newspaper here, in Singapore. They were the center of "wrong" attention.

It was mentioned by the media that the parents of these girls had some political agenda. Whatever agenda it was, as Allah knows best, I'd like to believe they did it with their child's interest at hand. They wanted the best for their children, be it ukhrawi or duniawi. I thought it was rather commendable.

Nonetheless, I was not one who "covered up" at such a young age. Looking back, I may have been quite a rebellious and difficult teenager, especially for my father who was an "ustaz". I wondered the stress I had put him through since I might have set many tongues wagging against him, for maybe not being an effective parent. I could imagine some people saying that how could an ustaz allow to his daughter to dress in such a manner. And some may even put him in their bad books and associated this act of mine as a case to make him an ustaz with no calibre.

I do hear this sort of comments every now and then. But let it be clear that we should not mingle a person's profession with his personal and family matters. We see many counsellors, teachers and even politicians who excelled in their jobs, but left much to be desired when it came to family matters. I understand now why my father preferred to be called "Cikgu", because of the tremedous pressure he must have felt.

It may be puzzling to some, as to why my father allowed me to dress as such. And at that point in time, I never saw anything wrong with it. I had friends whose fathers were akin to mine, in terms of profession, and yet, they too were dressed like me. I believe it all boils down to how we dressed when we were still in school. After my father's generation when Madrasah education was highly regarded, it slakened during my time. I remembered Madrasah was mostly for those who dropped out of secular schools. The level of education went down, maybe without sufficient funding and good management. Till now, although Madrasah education has vastly improved, there are still some people who think that Madrasahs are still backwards.

During my schooling days, religious education took a back seat where most children only went to religious classes once a week. Nonetheless, Islam never took a back seat in our home. So at that time, though I was not covered up, the way a Muslimah should, I knew what a Muslim should do. Unfortunately, knowing and putting something into practice are 2 different things altogether. I knew but sadly, I refused to follow. I refused to be different. I chose to follow the crowd who wished to believe that it was alright not to cover up as a Muslimah. I chose to believe that a Muslim woman was given an option - to cover or not.

I received an excellent secular education and an accountancy "honours" degree to boast and yet after I had it all - I never had a peace of mind. I felt something was missing. I felt that nothing was on my side. There was a point in time where both my personal and professional life was at stake. Being a single woman, then, I felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. I felt that I had burdened my parents and my friends. Many times I felt like running away, just to be alone.

It was during these times of turmoil and loneliness that I found myself. Allah the most gracious and most merciful who loved me more than I love myself, showed me the true meaning of being a Muslim. Whatever challenges HE threw my way, I realised that it was for me to find out more about who I really am, to rediscover what my parents had taught me when I was young.

By Allah's grace, I met many people, who now are my bossom friends, who helped me rekindled what my parents had taught me about being a Muslim. They brought me to religious classes, again. The basement mosque, just a few metres away from the Singapore River, was a place of solace for me - where I cried many times, listening to lessons that my parents once taught me and I had once chosen not to follow.

At one point, I did blame my parents but I realised if they had not allowed me to discover for myself who I really want to be, I may not be who I am now. I realised that I had chosen to be blind, blind to what was required of me at a Muslim. Allah swt has decreed that a Muslimah has to cover her aurat. For she is like a gem, her beauty should be concealed and seen by only those close to her. It is similar to having something you treasure so much, you love so much and you keep it away from the eyes of others, only you can see it.

So at 24, I decided to change, to put into practice what I knew, and I put on the tudung. I thought that I would be ostracised. But I was wrong. My profession and personal life got back on tracks. Amazingly, I have a peace of mind almost immediately. I see life in a different perspective, a better perspective. Relationships improved in many folds. Alhamdullilah. All those worries that I had, vanished.

I know of some who are harsh on those Muslimah who are still trying to discover themself. I know of some who criticise those who put on the tudung, but still wear figure hugging clothes. I know of some who sneer at those who wear the tudung for their "bad" behaviour. I'd say please don't push other Muslimahs away. Each individual needs time to discover themself, to find the truth. Every small improvement is a step to be better. And if you are not happy with how a "tudung'" lady is behaving, don't condemn her or worse, makes the assumption that all "tudung" ladies are alike - at least they did one thing right.