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  • Amnesty International – IS Using Captured Women As Sex Slaves

    Amnesty International – IS Using Captured Women As Sex Slaves

    Captured Yazidi girls in Iraq are killing themselves to escape rape and torture at the hands of Isis militants holding them prisoner.

    Hundreds of women and children were captured during the group’s bloody sweep through northern Iraq earlier this year and have since been trafficked as sex slaves , forced into marriage and imprisoned.

    Victims who managed to escape told Amnesty International that many Yazidi girls killed themselves after losing hope of being saved.

    A 20-year-old survivor, called Luna, said she was held with 20 girls as young as 10 in the Isis-controlled city of Mosul when they were told to dress up.

    “One day we were given clothes that looked like dance costumes and were told to bathe and wear those clothes,” she added. “Jilan killed herself in the bathroom. She cut her wrists and hanged herself. She was very beautiful.

    “I think she knew that she was going to be taken away by a man and that is why she killed herself.”

    Displaced Yazidi women

    Another woman, 27-year-old Wafa, said she and her sister attempted suicide while imprisoned in Mosul after the man holding them gave them the choice of marrying him and his brother or being sold as slaves.

    “At night we tried to strangle ourselves with our scarves,” she told Amnesty. “Two girls who were held with us woke up and stopped us and then stayed awake to watch over us.

    “When they fell asleep at 5am we tried again, and again they woke up and stopped us. I could not speak for several days after that.”

    Relatives of girls who managed to escape fear that the trauma will never leave them, reporting panic attacks and depression.

    The grandfather of a 16-year-old girl who was raped in Isis captivity said: “She is very sad and quiet all the time. She does not smile anymore and seems not to care about anything. I worry that she may try to kill herself, I don’t let her out of my sight.”

    Amnesty interviewed 42 women and girls for its report, “Escape from Hell”, which is being released today.

    It chronicles the torture, rape and sexual violence suffered by women from the Yazidi minority. Women who converted to Islam were forced to marry Isis militants and those maintaining their faith have been trafficked as sex slaves, abused and imprisoned.

    Videos have emerged online of horrifying “slave auctions” of girls in Mosul and Isis members have boasted of the abductions, justifying them by calling Yazidis “apostates”.

    Thousands of people from the religious minority, who are viciously targeted by the Sunni extremist group because they are considered heretics, were driven from their homes in Sinjar by the Isis advance in August.

    Hundreds were killed in raids on towns and more died of thirst or starvation after fleeing up the remote Mount Sinjar.

    Randa, a 16-year-old girl from a village near the mountain, was abducted with scores of her family members including her heavily-pregnant mother and given to a man twice her age who raped her.

    “Da’esh [Islamic State] has ruined our lives … What will happen to my family? I don’t know if I will ever see them again.”

    One woman called Alba, 19, was visibly pregnant with her second child when she was kidnapped with her son but Isis showed no mercy.

    “I had my little boy with me and my pregnancy was very visible already but one of the guards chose me to be his wife,” she told Amnesty, adding that the man threatened to send her to Syria if she resisted.

    Some Yazidi girls forced into marriage have reported being taken to the homes of Isis fighters’ families and even meeting their wives and children. Some received further abuse, while others made friends with their captor’s wives.

    Several girls held by foreign fighters told Amnesty International their families helped them escape and one 13-year-old girl, who was held with her toddler sister, said her captor did not abuse them but instead sent them straight home to their family.

    But even those escaping have a bleak prospect to return to, with the loss of dozens of killed or captured relatives, and home towns and villages overrun by Isis.

    The trauma of survivors of sexual violence is further exacerbated by the stigma surrounding rape. Survivors feel that their “honour” and that of their families has been tarnished and fear that their standing in society will be diminished as a result.

    Donatella Rovera, who spoke to more than 40 former captives in northern Iraq for Amnesty International, said Isis were using rape as a weapon in attacks “amounting to crimes against humanity”.

    “The physical and psychological toll of the horrifying sexual violence these women have endured is catastrophic,” she added. “Many of them have been tortured and treated as chattel. Even those who have managed to escape remain deeply traumatised.”

    She called on Kurdistan Regional Government, UN and humanitarian organisations to ensure they were reaching everyone who needed support.

     

    Source: www.independent.co.uk

  • American Hijab: Donning The Hijab As a Socio-Political Statement Rather Than A symbol of Religiosity

    American Hijab: Donning The Hijab As a Socio-Political Statement Rather Than A symbol of Religiosity

    I remember donning the hijab for the first time three years ago. I say it was the first time, but really it was one of many times that I had slipped it on, standing in front of the mirror and adjusting the folds of fabric around my face. Yet this time was different. Rather than take it off after prayer or a visit to the local masjid (mosque), I was hoping to wear it regularly.

    It was sometime in winter during my freshman year of college at Northwestern, and I had spent my first three months of college searching for my place among thousands of students. Like any freshmen, I had several identifying factors that felt true, things that I felt could not go unmentioned as I sought out the people who would become my closest friends. These included everything from my taste in books and music to my leftist political stance, but also my religion.

    As a Muslim growing up in a post 9/11 world, I was accustomed to misconceptions about my religion, my race, and my identity. I was acutely aware of the way I navigated the world as a brown body, and how experiences of hate and injustice only magnified themselves when my mother (wearing hijab) or my sister (darker with characteristic African hair) accompanied me places. My body, in spite of its brown shade, was still in the liminal world of racial ambiguity, a place where I could pass into whiteness when it seemed convenient. There were few markers of my race and my religion. In spite of this, however, I had often felt that my religion was not something to be shed or stifled and hidden for the sake of others, for the sake of their comfort. I did not shy away from my heritage, my deeply Egyptian roots, the pride I felt for Africa and Arabia and Islam. They were the places that made me a blank-American, someone different.

    That day in winter, as a lonely and homesick freshman, I remembered that being different was far from wanting or choosing to be different. That, in fact, I was not in control of my narrative so long as I still sought the acceptance of those who might never want to understand me. My desire to wear hijab increased in that moment. Hijab became a symbol of my rejection of white-passing (or at the very least racial ambiguity), a privilege I was distinctly aware I had, and that I knew was not afforded to many of my fellow non-white Americans.

    While hijab has historically had a reputation of being a number of things to “the West,” rebellion has rarely been one of them. Certainly among many Muslims and in many Muslim nations it is often considered a sign of piety, or at the very least culture and respect. Yet rebellion, or perhaps a better word is resistance, is one of the many reasons many Muslims wear hijab.

    In fact, in the 1970s and ’80s, after a period of secularism, many Muslim majority countries were undergoing an Islamic revival, where the society (not the political regimes) responded to its conditions by adopting religion again. It was a reversal of the Westernisation approach, undermining the belief of my grandparents’ generation that the West was strengthening Muslim nations. My mother describes choosing the hijab in college during the ’80s, a little after this revival. Her parents, the previous generation, rejected her decision; theirs was an era where few women wore hijab, where much of the traditional clothing was left behind in favor of western attire, where alcohol was widely accepted rather than forbidden.

    Many American Muslims wear hijab much like the women of the Islamic revival, as a response to the changing times and a rejection of Western influence. While it seems counter-intuitive to wear hijab in a world that increasingly has a negative perception of Muslims, particularly when the consensus among many American Muslims is that one can be religious with our without it, there is a significant presence of American Muslim women wearing the hijab as a strong sense of identity. As one of these women, I know and have insight to a representation of hijab that is rarely portrayed — a representation that I call the American hijab, the antithesis and retaliation to whiteness and the American media, and a nod of solidarity to other people of color.

    In this sense, hijab, rather than strictly being a religious decision, is also a sociopolitical choice and representation. In spite of, or rather in response to, the negative portrayal of Muslims by those (Muslims and non-Muslims) who seek to define our narrative as one of barbaric killing and atrocity, women choose hijab — a piece of cloth that declares their identity as Muslims while simultaneously expressing their individual identity as smart, driven, successful, and independent. A simple yet powerful message. A way in which Muslim women can reclaim their narrative.

    In choosing to wear the hijab, American Muslim women reconstruct the narrative of Islam in America. More importantly, they define American Islam and celebrate its rich cultural treasures: Islamic songs by Cat Stevens after his conversion, legendary icons like Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali and Kareem Abdul Jabbar, a deep sense of community that transcends immigrant heritage to become a new national heritage of its own, a style of hijab and clothing developed to bring together Islamic tradition from across the globe.

    This American Islam has blossomed in many forms: the Mipsters (Muslim hipsters), Muppies (Muslim Urban Professionals), IMAN (Inner-city Muslim Action Network), and many more coalitions of young Muslim Americans who bring together their cross-cultural heritage — their America and their Islam — and share it with the world on a daily basis, through creative productions, concerts, health clinics and activist movements. While each coalition and organization has its own goals, they share a young, vibrant population of men and women alike with a common religious ideology, but also a sociopolitical identity.

    In the same vein, American Muslim women have created communities for hijabi fashion. With blogs, magazines, a strong social media presence, conferences, and more, these women are the epitome of the American hijab as an intricate sociopolitical identity. Instagram is littered with photos of stylish, smart women redefining the traditional garment, following the lead of women like international popstar Yuna. In their defiance of social convention, American Muslim women wearing hijab have paved the way for others and developed a sense of social consciousness and social justice among themselves.

    While this story of resistance may seem new, it is not unique to Muslim women. It is a story that rings true for many individuals of color, whether it manifests itself as choosing to don an afro or to participate in the traditions of our non-American ancestors. It is the story of rejecting social pressure, of rejecting the influence of western media and the western world, and of choosing to openly and clearly declare our difference in a society that readily rejects us as part of its narrative.

    The choice is embracing that difference and declaring it before anyone else can. This often means representing entire worlds, but it also means liberation from the pressures that society imposes with respect to beauty, identity, race, and culture. At the end of the day when I have fears about continuing to represent my faith without trepidation, I remember that I wear my hijab for the empowerment it grants me in declaring where I stand in a world that — more often than not — is in opposition to all that I am.

    I remind myself of the power and privilege of having the choice to decide whether I am explicitly seen or unseen for my difference, and for the ability to pass. While hijab is important to me as both a religious and sociopolitical statement, it is not my skin. At the end of the day, it is a piece of fabric that can be shed. Yet it is my way of acknowledging the unique responsibility and burden that people of color share with respect to teaching others about their identities. To my brothers and sisters of color out there: solidarity

    The story first appeared on xoJane.com

    Source: http://time.com

  • Forced Into Hijab (Part 1)

    Forced Into Hijab (Part 1)

    Ramadhan has always been a special time for me because it’s the time when I sit down and reflect about my religion more seriously. I don’t mean for this to look like a biography, but I thought that it’d be easier to write things chronologically.

    And with that I shall properly begin.

    See, for as long as I can remember, the Hijab has always been an obligation enforced upon me and my sister.

    As a young Muslim, you don’t really question these things but you just do it because your parents tell you to. When I was younger I don’t remember if I had true conviction for wearing it, but I wore it anyway. I just assumed it was the norm since my mother wears it, and because it was compulsory to wear it when you went to religious classes. So I did.

    It was only in my pubescent teen years when this strong sense of dislike towards the Hijab sat at the back of my mind. The pubescent years was when how you looked started to matter, and for me, a person who has always struggled with low self-esteem, it aggravated the problem. I recall this incident that happened some time during my Secondary School years. My friends and I were out for a “Jalan Raya” outing. I was the only girl wearing the Hijab. I resented it the moment I put it on as it made me feel uglier than I already was. Seeing how pretty the other girls looked in something other than their Secondary School uniforms was enough to implant this small seed of jealousy within me. What worsened it however, was when the boys snickered, labelling me “alim” or pious because I wore the tudung. I remembered them laughing about it when I shortly excused myself to pray. It was something that damaged my self-esteem even more. At that moment I hated my parents for forcing such a thing upon me, and I hated the Malay community for endlessly criticising – it is a problem in their eyes to both wear it and not wear it. Most importantly, I hated that company; and that was when I swore to myself never to attend a “Jalan Raya” with anyone other than family.

    This dislike for the Hijab continued into my JC years, although in a smaller scale. The JC years introduced me to new perspectives on the Hijab, both good and bad. For one, my Chinese friends were more accepting and encouraging of the Hijab than my Malay friends. They told me things like “You look good with the Hijab, it frames your face nicely”, “You’re pretty”, “I like the way you dress” which really made me feel better about myself. Never once did they question me for my decision to wear it. The Malays in my JC, were nicer than the ones I met in Secondary School. Not only were they non-judgmental, they never once snickered at me for wearing the Hijab. Furthermore, the girls were undergoing a transition like myself. We were all at the age where we wanted to take our lives more seriously, and the Malay girls I knew were all making the decision to wear the Hijab because of varying reasons. I was really happy that they were making the decision to do so, and listening to their stories made me feel more optimistic about the Hijab. However, along with it came a deep sense of jealousy. You see, my friends were the sort who were never forced to wear the Hijab by their parents. When they wanted to wear it, it was a decision they made on their own accord, and I truly respected them for that. It was something that was never in my capacity to do. How I wished I were them, loving and embracing the Hijab for all that it is. I couldn’t however, as my deep sense of repulsion for it was still there. You see, the more you are forced to do something, the more you shy away from it.

    The present is when I’ve been starting to really rethink the whole idea of the Hijab. I am in uni now and it seems that in uni, at any given point of time, people see you in the Hijab and only the Hijab. I remember in year one I didn’t even bother to adopt a defensive attitude towards the Hijab. My friends asked me why I wore it, and I just answered “Because my parents forced me to”. I remember in JC I would tell my friends lies like “Because it allows me to be more modest” or something of the like, which, looking back, must have sounded really baseless and presumptuous. In uni I find myself being able to articulate my thoughts about the Hijab more clearly.

     

    Source: beyondhijabsg.wordpress.com

  • Malaysian Women Among The Most Unfaithful Lovers in the World, Survey

    Malaysian Women Among The Most Unfaithful Lovers in the World, Survey

    malay minah

    (THE STAR/ASIA NEWS NETWORK) – Malaysian women often cheat on their mates, according to a survey that listed them among the most unfaithful lovers in the world.

    Some 39 per cent of Malaysian women confessed that they cheated on their partners in the poll, which covered 29,000 women in 36 countries, Kosmo! Ahad reported.

    The Malaysian women came third behind Ghana (62 per cent) and Thailand (59 per cent) in the worldwide survey carried out by condom producer Durex. In fourth and fifth place were Russia (33 per cent) and Singapore (19 per cent) respectively..

    The same survey placed men from Singapore and Hong Kong as being the most promiscuous in Asia, with an average of 16 bed partners in their lifetime. Malaysian men, the survey revealed, have sexual relations with an average of three women on a casual basis.

    Source: http://www.straitstimes.com/breaking-news/asia-news-network/story/malaysian-women-among-most-unfaithful-survey-20120827

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  • CONFESSION: REGRET WEARING HIJAB

    I have considered for a very long time before writing this. It is personal and extremely controversial especially at this moment but I just want to share my story. While writing this brief life story, please do not judge me for my action.

    I am a Muslimah and I want to take off my Hijab. I have been thinking about this for years.

    I started wearing the Hijab when I was still in my early teens. A few of my best friends had been talking about it because there were very few people around us were doing it. We thought that it would be unique and we will be taken noticed by people. Being young, we soon decided to do it. After toying with the idea for weeks, I went to my friend’s house for a visit after school one day and it was then that she decided to dressed up and put on a Hijab. I decided to do it too and borrowed a Hijab from her. We left the house feeling extremely proud of ourselves. I felt so excited about wearing it unaware of the consequences more so when close friends were also wearing it.

    I went home that day and told my family of my decision to wear the Hijab. My father was surprised but felt that I was not ready due to my tender age but my mom was indifferent about the issue. There were those who asked if I was mad but I had do it. My close friends were wearing it and I didn’t want to be an outcast. Eventually, my father relented. I was so happy and I was busy matching my clothes with a pretty headscarves. There were people who called me stylish and pretty. I saw it as a major way of getting compliments and I realised I could get boys’ attention easily. Sadly, I didn’t do it for Islam or Allah and I sure didn’t understand the real reason behind the Hijab. I just wanted to be different from most other girls. It felt I was celebrated when I don the Hijab, I received so much flattery and encouragement that I felt that it was just the right thing to do.

    As any teenager, I faced the usual highs and lows of teenage life. Although Hijab was not a hindrance to my life but I am unsure if it was the right decision then. At first, it was like good. The attire kept away evil eyes and give people the modest impression. It enabled me to get the attention from boys that I fancy and I was still able to go out as normal with the boys. After a short few years, I started considering removing the Hijab. I felt unattractive, boring and restricted by the way how people perceived I should behave. It was not that I wanted to behave slutty or whatsoever but I just felt so bounded by the society. I cannot be myself. I cannot be the noisy, happy, funny girl when I’m at home. I felt that I was losing my sense of individuality and identity. I felt just like one of the girls. I began to dislike leaving the house. I felt ugly but after wearing it for years, I have no real reasons to remove it. I felt that there was pressure as people around me will start questioning me if I remove it. I felt an immense pressure to conform. Even when I leave the house, I walk with my head down and my eye fixed on the ground. I lost my self confidence and constantly feeling unsure of myself. I really have no intention to do anything haraam and I dress very modestly.

    I worked hard in school but I realised I started to have very low self-esteem. It was only later that I realised some Muslimah are hypocritical. There were those who wear the Hijab but with really tight clothing showing their figure. There were also those who wear clothing that shows faint outline of their G-string or those who unbutton their top revealing a little cleavage. Just the other day, I even observed a man ogling at a non-Muslim girl in the presence of his wife who dons a Hijab. I now realised that I didn’t really doubt Allah. I was questioning the reality of Muslims nowadays. I want to remove all restrictions and relive, relearn, realise the true face of my religion without any feelings of suffocation. I know I could be despised by the society but I’m sure Allah will understand and eventually forgive. He knows deep down why I am doing this.

    I had been having this continuous struggle for years and thinking of it every single day. The thoughts of removing off the Hijab are haunting me. If Islam is really about patience and merciful, I hope to eventually find peace with Allah but away from restrictions, especially the rules created by the society. All I want is to rediscover Islam without any frustrations and the freedom to differentiate what Allah told us to follow and what the community is currently doing. I know I will become close to Allah and truly understand the meaning of a true Muslimah.

    Diana Ibrahim 

    Sumber: http://bit.ly/1aP6QBm