My Niqabee (COMPLETED)

Heart of a Child

     Nothing takes hostage of my attention like sighting a lady in Niqaab (Face Veil). More constraining it gets when gloves and stockings are part of the raiment. All thanks to my environment while growing up. Both my parents were workers and almost always away. My Father was a Banker while my Mother was a Teacher. My father worked at another City and only came home for weekends, my mother was pursuing her Master of Education at another City too but was usually away for only four days in a week. They did not have enough time to monitor my active days and for the times they were around, I would hang around to enjoy them. This blocked a lot of character and instinct conduits from them to me.

        My neighborhood was more of a ghetto setting in the Northern part of Nigeria. The area was well set out but most of the houses were single room or room and parlor apartments. Most of the parents were busy people just like mine and were not around during the daytimes. From dawn till dusk was full of activities, giving us plenty of time to socialise.

      Been in the Northern part of Nigeria, Islamiyya (Islamic School) was practically more important than the conventional Boko ( Western School). You just had to attend one and in doing so you automatically belonged to the sect which run your school. The more prominent been Tijaniyya, Sunni and Shiite Schools. The sects have varying traditions which influenced a major part of the way of life of followers. Most significant was the mode of dressing; a glance at either a student or teacher could tell you to which sect he/she belonged.

     
      Putting all these together, I had a mix of exposure to Islamic culture and practices alongside freedom of choice since my parents were not really around to guide my opinions. Peer group influence was not an issue for me since I was the type of kid who will rather influence friends than get influenced. My Mother saw to it that I enrolled in a Sunni School and watched from a distance how things soared. Meanwhile I was also attending a Boko school which was in fact among the best around the municipality. Unlike today, it was not easy around the islamiyya if you attended a western school concurrently. There was stigma, antagonism and sorts of ill treatment from teachers and students alike with few exceptions. They held to a fallacy that our types were not committed enough to the islamiyya. Such teachers always had their eyes on our kind and were always awaiting petty mistakes by us to pounce on us.

      The character and charisma of the Niqabee teacher; Mallama Maimuna caught my attention well as a child. She never held up a whip in class but I grabbed a lot from what she taught us in her subject Fiqhu ( Islamic Jurisprudence). The whole time I knew her as my teacher, I never got to see her face. Maybe because I usually joined them by 04:00pm after we closed from western school.  I wondered along with some colleagues how this wonderful woman looked like and how I was going to recognise her elsewhere in order to accord her the courtesy and respect which she so much deserved. On a faithful day, she was to take us a practical class on Alwudu (Ablution) which is mandatory before any Salat (Prayer) is said by Muslims. This involved washing the hands, face, legs and some other parts of the body. Lo and behold, the veil had to be lifted.

           <<<<< To be Continued>>>>>