A Reason

The girl stood in front of a wooden wardrobe that also had a study desk attached to it. Her right hand was still trying to reach the back of the wardrobe. Because she couldn’t reach, she stood on tiptoe. She kept stretching her arm, though it would have been easier to move to the back of the wardrobe so that her stomach wouldn’t be blocked by the desk that was attached to it. If she were facing the wardrobe directly, she would have succeeded. But with the desk in the way, she looked like a Pancoran statue. That day, she made a promise to herself: “One day, I’ll grow taller and be able to reach the back of this wardrobe without standing on tiptoe!” Her determination was strong, even though she only said it to herself. It was a simple yet noble ambition, though who knows what good it would bring. For a 9-year-old girl, it would be a cool achievement if she could do it.

The mirror on the wardrobe caught the girl’s attention. She started fixing her long hair. She didn’t like it when people told her to tie it up. Letting her hair hang loose became her habit. Her hair was thick and slightly wavy, and she really liked it. Though, in the future, there would be a time when she wouldn’t like her thick hair because it was hard to take care of. Naira kept looking at her reflection in the mirror. She grabbed a hat near the wardrobe, tucking some of her hair into the hole at the back of the hat. It reminded her of someone whose face often appeared on TV. “Wow, I look cool,” she smiled and complimented herself.

“I wonder what it feels like to wear a hat outside the house?” She got lost in thought but never tried it. As a girl born into a Muslim family that made sure their children wore hijabs from a young age, Naira never had the chance to choose. Even though she was only 9 and didn’t have to wear the hijab yet, she felt a heavy weight in her heart. It wasn’t just about removing the hijab; in her family, wearing pants outside without a skirt was a serious offense.

“Mom, can I wear pants to play sports with my friends?” Naira asked one day, pleading.

“Sure, but don’t become my kids,” her mom answered briefly.

What child would dare argue with a response like that? Maybe some would, but not many. Naira wasn’t always obedient. Though she often answered honestly when friends or teachers asked why she still wore a skirt during sports, sometimes, without her mother knowing, she would take off her skirt at school and run more freely in her sports pants. She’d put it back on when she got home.

Naira loved sports and martial arts. She joined the martial arts extracurricular activity at school, but because the uniform included pants, her mom didn’t allow her to participate. Still, Naira was persistent. Little by little, she saved up her pocket money. It wasn’t hard, since she’d been used to saving ever since she had a friend who was good at it. But every time she came home from the activity, her mom would greet her with a broom, ready to strike the little girl’s feet. Naira would stay quiet and cry behind her father’s back, while her mom would give a lengthy lecture that no one knew when it would end, and no one dared to respond.

Naira was born as a child who always asked questions. Her father nicknamed her the “little police officer.”

One afternoon, she was lost in thought, wondering, “What if the religion I believe in isn’t the right one? What if another religion is the truth? Oh no, I’ll go to hell!” She spent that day thinking about it, trying to find an answer on her own. She didn’t dare bring up the question with her parents, as it was a very sensitive topic, at least for her family.

Growing up with the identity of a Muslim, in an environment where questioning religion was frowned upon, Naira became a rather strict Muslim teenager. When she saw differences or things she considered sinful, she would aggressively argue with people using shallow arguments. Believing that what she thought was true was the only truth became her guiding principle in life.

“I don’t get it! There are people who are already poor and still don’t pray! How do they expect to live like that?!” That was one example of Naira’s arguments as a teenager. She couldn’t yet distinguish well between personal matters and public ones.

.... to be continued