By Soraya Ahmed
It has become a cliché that any practising Muslim believes that it is possible to marry a Muslim from another, totally different culture and enjoy eternal happiness and fulfilment. After all, the principles of Islam and a shared desire to serve Allah unite a Muslim couple in a unique way and surely nothing can undermine this. This may be the perception, but as someone who is living through the personal anguish of a mixed marriage, I can say that it is a wrong perception.
The reality of life for many Muslim women who suffer in almost complete silence as the dreams and hopes we had of a happy and fulfilling marriage in the service of Allah and our spouses evaporates daily, leaving us sad and even bitter. Bitter mostly at the irony that it is not the 'mixed marriage' in the sense of our different cultures or races that is undermined, but our 'mixed' and unmatched commitment to Islam.
I still remember the day I found out about the elevated status of women in Islam and the joy and pride I felt in assuming my identity as a Muslim woman who was proud to hold up her head and tell non-Muslim friends that as a young Muslim woman, I was impressed by what Islam had to offer us, contrary to all the negative media coverage: their stunned looks and quizzical expressions still make me smile. Over the ensuing two decades, I mixed with Muslims from different cultures and communities and gained the naive impression that if as Muslims we all shared the same values and sympathies there should be no problem about engaging in a mixed marriage as our loyalty to our faith would overcome all obstacles.
Now I realise how wrong my impressions were. My husband is from West Africa. I have visited his country and I can see that my suffering is not unique: my heart goes out to the women of that society who are doubly disadvantaged compared to me because at least I have some knowledge about how it should be for a Muslim woman having been brought up here and had a chance to benefit from the fruits of the Islamic revival. In contrast, my sisters know no other existence than that they are born second-class as women and will remain so throughout their lives with all sorts of daily oppressions and indignities presented as religious and traditional. I never imagined a day when a wife would be put down by her Muslim husband for expressing the desire that they should both follow the teachings of the Qur'an and Sunnah and leave behind un-Islamic cultural practices which oppress women, yet it is has come many a time in my relationship with my husband and many other women in my situation have had the same experience. Women are second class citizens, they have no knowledge, the order is given: men are the arbiters of all things, whether they are just or not is not to be questioned. Man is god and that’s how it is always going to be.
Women are routinely addressed in derogatory terms despite the equality of status accorded them by the Qur’an. We are 'a couple', supposed companions ('raiments for each other' as the Qur'an so beautifully puts it), yet I and our home are treated like a 'bed and breakfast establishment’. His real companions are his friends whom he sees at all hours for any length of time: it is not right for me to even question when to expect him home. He can leave at 2pm one day and return at 5am the next day and he does not feel he has to inform me where he is going, what he is doing and when to expect him back. If you ask about his whereabouts you can be either dismissed as a child or verbally or physically abused - depending on his mood.
Women in the community of which I speak and of which I have become part do not have any say or control over their lives and have resigned themselves to their fate. Women are isolated and so some find comfort in talking to their friends on the phone - until 'the Boss' finds out and changes the phone to incoming calls only or cancels the telephone service altogether. Some of my friends have to then sneak use of their husbands' mobile phone during the periods when she knows there is free use of the telephone and he is not at home.
What is particularly upsetting is that many people know that such abuses are taking place but nothing is done about it or said about it. Religious leaders could use their khutbahs and sermons to talk about such matters, but they do not. Most of the women of which I speak are forbidden to attend mosques where at the very least they could seeks some support and comfort from their sisters in faith. One woman I know of was so desperate to get away from her domestic situation that she set herself alight and was severely burnt. Women in situations such as mine can and are pushed over the edge at the accumulative effects of such abuse within their marriages. Sometimes I feel that I am going over the edge, but I am able to use the telephone and so I ring up a friend - sometimes at 10.30 or 11 at night. It was through one of these distress calls that the idea of putting pen to paper came up: surely I am not alone. Surely there are other Muslim wives who suffer what I do if not more than I do. Surely we can do something to change our situations ... if not singly then together, we can, we must.