Side Entrance |
Photos from mosques around the world, showcasing women's sacred spaces, in relation to men's spaces. We show the beautiful, the adequate and the pathetic. |
It was after Asr and folks were bustling out of the mosque. A swirl of starched white over garments, bright headscarves and ebony skin filled the doorway. A lady sat on the prayer carpet with an infant nestled in her lap. Her oversized scarf covered the sleeping baby protecting him from the flies. She looked like she was young.
Suddenly she busted out in a song. Her voice echoed throughout the mosque getting louder and louder. Her eyes were closed and her body swayed to the melody. She sounded strong yet her undertones were soft just like a woman. She was singing a Nigerian (Hausa) nasheed (song of worship).
She sang like she was in her kitchen preparing a meal or perhaps lulling her baby to sleep. Her voice was beautiful and my heart connected to her words, though they were foreign. Onlookers would take a quick glance but kept going about their business.
No one stopped her.
No one scolded her.
They let her sing.
She claimed her space and rightfully so, or maybe in my mind that’s what she did. It was refreshing for me to witness this moment. Even though I don’t understand a lick of Hausa I connected to her song. Almost like she was singing for me as well.
When I come back to certain parts of Africa I have these moments where I am reminded of the status women embody. Women are an inclusive part of society and are not viewed as problems or temptresses, contrary to the communities I was raised in.
Muslim communities in the US could learn a thing or two about the treatment of women in majority Muslim African countries.
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