My Hijab Story

(Tuesday 7:00 a.m Before school, Roanoke, Virginia)

Khadija glared at her mom with a face that said no.

“Mama, I don’t want to wear it. Everyone will stare at me and laugh.”

Khadija’s mom looked a little hurt but replied,

“Khadija, this is for your religion, your culture. We wear the hijab because it is important. It represents us. You are at the age where it is proper for you to wear it. Just think how Daadi will feel when she sees you wearing this. It’ll be like you have finally grown up.”

Khadija groaned, “I love Daadi, but I don’t want to wear the hijab if it means I’ll get laughed at.”

Khadija’s mom sighed, “at least wear it for one day.”

Khadija eyed the hijab warily, but knew her mom wouldn’t budge anymore.

“Fine.”

Khadija’s mom smiled and ran upstairs to get her phone. Khadija got the hijab from the sofa and put it on.

At least it goes with what I’m wearing. Khadija wore a dark blue, long sleeved shirt and jeans. The hijab was cream-colored and covered her tied-up brown hair. She checked her appearance in the mirror and her brown eyes stared back approvingly.

Her mom ran down, “smile.”

Khadija grinned while her mother snapped a picture, before being hurried out the door.

“You’ll be late if you don’t hurry and catch the bus.