Hi, sorry this chapter is kind of boring, but the next chapter won't be so please carry on reading! :D
____________________________________
I entered my home and plunked down the house keys on the kitchen counter, every one was still at work, my mom would probably be back in an hour so till then I had the house all to myself!
I went upstairs, took a shower then dried my hair with my towel and combed the tangles out of my dark chocolate brown hair. My hair originally has big loose curls which my mom is in love with, when I was younger she'd always comb my hair for me right before I'd go to bed.
My mom entered the house as soon as I had finished my home work.
"Salaam Alaikum mama, (peace be on you mom)," I greeted her, taking half of the grocery bags from her hands.
"Wa Alaikum Salaam habibty (and peace be on you sweetheart)," She replied taking off her hijab, her light brown hair was tied neatly into a loose bun at the top of her head and her saphire blue eyes looked tired but at the same time happy. That was the thing about my mom, she was always happy, her life had never been to hard, she too had grown up in the west unlike my father who grew up in a conservative Lebanese society. But my mom's mom wasn't a Muslim, she was a non practicing christian and my mom's dad was a muslim, her parents had left it up to her to choose who she wanted to be and my mom chose Islam, she started wearing her hijab at the age of eighteen and never took it off since then.
"I'm going out mama," I told her as I put the last of the groceries in the freezer.
"Be back by nine, for dinner," She reminded me.
"Ok mom,"
I ran past the blocks heading to Jedayel's house. We had met ages ago when we were around five in Madressa (originally in arabic it means school but in the west we use it to mean religion classes) and since then we became best friends.
I rang the doorbell to his house and waited patiently. His mom opened the door, she was a very pleasant and quite plump lady, but no one could hug like her.
"Ya Allah Ameerah!" She squeeled opening up her arms for a hug, "You have become so beautiful Mashallah!"
I smiled sweetly, kind of embarassed,
"Is Jedayel there?" I asked awkwardly
"Of course," She said, "Jedayel!" She called.
"What- Oh hey," He said.
"Be back before Maghrib (dusk prayer)," She reminded.
YOU ARE READING
I Can Wear My Hijab
Teen FictionGrowing up in the west is anything but easy for the teenage Muslim Ameerah Hasaan where she is constantly questioned and bullied because of her hijab (headscarf) by her peers and neighborhood acquaintances. And if that is not enough, Ameerah is conf...
