Another interesting writing from my Singaporean friend :)
"My father and I had just come back to Aden from Hadramawt. Cousin J welcomed us back and said:“I will take you and your father to Sanaa tomorrow”.
I could not believe that cousin J spoke to me (it was the norm for my male cousins not to speak to me or my sisters, perhaps it was chauvinism, perhaps it was the wide age gap and, in cousin J’s case, it could be that he was just socially awkward).
I could not believe that he wanted to take us to Sanaa. I was speechless. I did not want to speak (in case I would say something wrong and cause him to change his mind), so I smiled, my best smile, and nodded vigorously in agreement. He smiled back approvingly.
In Sanaa, before we set out to explore the city, cousin J decided to warn me on how I should conduct myself:“Although this is a city, this is Yemen, and we do things differently here. You have to walk behind your father and me. This is for your own protection.
”I stared at him with disbelief. It did not make sense to me:“Danger comes from the back and the side too, you know! I may just be kidnapped while you both may be thinking that you are protecting me… absolute nonsense… there is no way I will walk behind you or my father because you want me to…. Watch me!”
At that moment my father came. I grabbed his hand and led him away, signalling to my cousin the end of our conversation. I heard cousin J grumbling behind me… probably regretting his decision to take me to Sanaa.I forgot the conversation soon enough. There were much more important scenes to take in. We smiled and laughed at many sights, were touched by many scenes, ate good food and smelled many exotic odours.
I could not keep track whether I walked infront, behind or with my father and my cousin, probably all three at different times. The day passed quickly. As it was approaching dark, cousin J brought us to an old mosque. Cousin J said that the mosque had been there for a long time, rumoured to have been built at the time of the prophet.
I was of course excited to see it and thought it was a privilege to be able to do my prayers there. But before we could come in, cousin J burst my bubble when said that only men were allowed inside.
As if pre-empting my disagreement, he reminded me it was not him that I had to fight with. I was defiant. I was enraged. I thought it totally unfair. But perhaps I was tired, perhaps I got the message that if I were to make any attempt to force my way into the mosque, I would only create embarrassment and deprive my father and cousin J of the chance to pray in the mosque, so I dutifully agreed to stay outside.
Cousin J paid a beggar lady a few coins to look after me. I thought the beggar lady was only going to cause me more trouble. I kept my distance. The beggar lady was still within sight but I was lost in my thoughts, trying to pacify my defiance and rage over what I perceived as an injustice from high above.
I remembered how I had debated many times against the wrong perception that women were not allowed in mosques and there I was sitting with a beggar lady outside a mosque. How much worse could things get (for a feminist like me)!My thoughts were distracted by the sight of another beggar lady approaching. I sensed trouble.
I was alert. But my fear turned into laughter as I saw the two beggar ladies bickering. I did not understand what they said but from the gestures I could make out that the one who was looking after me was showing me and the coins she got from cousin J off and the other one wanted a share of the coins. From soft hush tones they became loud, they became angry. They came closer to me. At that point, I wondered if they thought that my cousin J had sold me off to them. I became quite frightened.
The commotion caught the attention of a passing man. He was dressed to go to the mosque – clean, white dress, white skullcap. He stopped, looked at what I thought was a pitiful sight of three women - me caught in between two bickering beggar ladies. He seemed to know that I was not local and did not speak to me. He looked disapprovingly, and asked the beggar ladies a few questions. Initially they tried to answer him in their loud tones but turned quiet when he reprimanded them. I felt safe.
Then he turned to me and asked:“Muslim?”I nodded my head and replied with the little Arabic I knew:“Naam”.
He gestured me to follow. I followed him into the mosque. In the mosque, he showed me to my corner and left. I mumbled a “Syukran” but he did not turn back. In my corner I did my maghrib prayers. The mosque was not large and I was spotted by cousin J and my father. Cousin J could not believe that I was allowed into the mosque. He told me I was lucky, perhaps it was even a small miracle. My father merely smiled."
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
DAP-PKR MERGER?
Dear everyone,
I am thinking of recommending a DAP-PKR merger and would like to know what you think it? The two parties forming a real multiracial party (not just an alliance)?
Do you think it's a good direction for both parties, Malaysian politics and the Nation? Both parties have a multiracial constitution and promote a non-race based politics.
At the end of it, the members of both parties must decide, but no harm putting the idea into their conciousness : )
Please do send me your comments.
Thanks.
Anas
I am thinking of recommending a DAP-PKR merger and would like to know what you think it? The two parties forming a real multiracial party (not just an alliance)?
Do you think it's a good direction for both parties, Malaysian politics and the Nation? Both parties have a multiracial constitution and promote a non-race based politics.
At the end of it, the members of both parties must decide, but no harm putting the idea into their conciousness : )
Please do send me your comments.
Thanks.
Anas
Monday, July 6, 2009
SILENCE NOT THE WOMEN - BY ZAINAH ANWAR
Below is an article from yesterday's SUNDAY STAR. Read and do say what you think. Also read the previous post about Hadrami women's point of view on the subject of gender. The two articles do not deal with the same issue, but offer us a wonderful contrast of realities - both are valid and real - if only we learn to accept that the universe is created colorful and yet neutral.
Silence not the women
SHARING THE NATION WITH ZAINAH ANWAR
WHENEVER I give talks on Islam and women’s rights in any part of the world, I am often asked the familiar question from Islamists in the audience: “What right do you have to speak on Islam? You are not an expert. When you are sick, you go to a doctor. When you have questions about Islam, you go to the ulama. He is the expert,” they say triumphantly, as if to end the debate.
Depending on the audience and the mood, sometimes I answer the question flippantly, most times seriously.
My flippant answer is, well, if I don’t like that doctor’s opinion or treatment, I go to another doctor. And if the doctor prescribes me the wrong treatment, I could sue him for malpractice and get him deregistered.
But I can’t do that with an ulama. If I challenge him and his prescription to my complaints of injustice and ill-treatment, I could be accused of going against God, against Islam, against Syariah. I could even be declared an apostate, my name denounced in mosque sermons and have rabid-looking men gather after Friday prayers with placards demanding my detention under the ISA.
But my serious answer is this: When Islam is used as a source of law and public policy, then everyone has the right to talk about the subject. Public law, public policy must by necessity be opened to public debate, and pass the test of public reason.
to read further click here : http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/7/5/focus/4252713&sec=focus
Silence not the women
SHARING THE NATION WITH ZAINAH ANWAR
WHENEVER I give talks on Islam and women’s rights in any part of the world, I am often asked the familiar question from Islamists in the audience: “What right do you have to speak on Islam? You are not an expert. When you are sick, you go to a doctor. When you have questions about Islam, you go to the ulama. He is the expert,” they say triumphantly, as if to end the debate.
Depending on the audience and the mood, sometimes I answer the question flippantly, most times seriously.
My flippant answer is, well, if I don’t like that doctor’s opinion or treatment, I go to another doctor. And if the doctor prescribes me the wrong treatment, I could sue him for malpractice and get him deregistered.
But I can’t do that with an ulama. If I challenge him and his prescription to my complaints of injustice and ill-treatment, I could be accused of going against God, against Islam, against Syariah. I could even be declared an apostate, my name denounced in mosque sermons and have rabid-looking men gather after Friday prayers with placards demanding my detention under the ISA.
But my serious answer is this: When Islam is used as a source of law and public policy, then everyone has the right to talk about the subject. Public law, public policy must by necessity be opened to public debate, and pass the test of public reason.
to read further click here : http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/7/5/focus/4252713&sec=focus
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
"Conversations at Tea in Seiyoun (Hadramawt) Yemen"
A close friend of mine wrote this. She wants to be anonymous ...It took place 10 years ago.
It is a good read.
"Conversations at Tea in Seiyoun (Hadramawt) Yemen"
"There were at least ten women sitting in front of me. I was served tea. The tea was strong and thick, with one cube of sugar, served in small glasses with the tea barely covering the sugar.The women were talking and laughing amongst themselves but their eyes were on me. I was curious about them, they were more curious about me.
Except for S and M, they all looked about my age, at most a year or two older. Most of them had at least one child thugging at the side. Without their burkahs, I could see their faces in full. All of them were very good looking. There was something wild and carefree about them when they were just amongst women - their chatter and giggles were lively. Their eyes were especially beautiful. Enhanced by kohl, they shone bright, expressive, and got my full attention.
S, who had visited Singapore several times, could speak heavily accented Malay. She acted as my interpreter. M who was next to me, was assigned to follow me around. I woke up that morning and found M at my door smiling. Initially I thought she was there to direct me to breakfast, but when she did not go away, despite my various attempts to tell her to, I gave up and tried to get used to having her around me.
I was asked all sorts of questions – where I got my clothes, where I got my earrings, where I got my pendant, whether I knew what my pendant meant (my pendant was Allah in Arabic).I found the tea way too thick, way too sweet and I kept adding hot water. I nibbled on the nuts and fried dough. I was uncomfortable with the attention I got.
I wanted to change the conversation, so I started asking the questions. I asked about their names and their meanings, about their children, about school. They asked whether I was still in school. I decided to show off. I told them about my work, and I recited my education history, all the time with a smug smile on my face.
I saw the look of surprises. There were a few giggles. M, smiled shyly. S, stared hard at me. She asked for my right hand, turned it upwards and caressed my palm. She then asked M to give me her right hand and told me to caress M’s palm. I felt M’s palm, it was rough, rougher than mine. S announced that M was 16 years old and that my palm was too young for my age.
I was not surprise that M was only 16, her face looked her age, but understood that her palm felt much older and that the women were surprise to hear that I was 25 years old (had studied for 18 years from age 7 onwards). I also understood that compared to me, M did housework and worked in the field.
After a brief silence which allowed me to digest the situation, one lady started to speak, followed by another, and another, and they spoke amongst themselves. I saw curiosity but also a challenge. S took her time to let almost all the women speak. When she was satisfied that they had asked their questions, S looked at me, with a slight smile and spoke:
“They want to know why you studied so long, so hard? Would it not be a waste of time?”
My first reaction was to pity the women for not realising the value of education. I proudly answered that I went to school to get an education, which got me my good job. I added that in my country women could go to the highest level of education and work just like men, and I hoped one day the women in Hadramawt would also enjoy the same right to education and a good job, all the time with a smug smile on my face.
S was careful and slow in her translation. It warned me of a clash of cultures.The reply led to many chatters, but one woman stood up to speak.
She was articulate. She spoke calmly, but with strength and indignation. Her eyes were all the time on me, with almost a pitiful smile and a dare. From the expressions I saw on the other women’s faces, they supported her reply.
I was curious but met her eyes and the dare. I wanted to hear the reply of the women from Seiyoun whom I presumed had not much of an education. S translated slowly:
“They wanted to know why you waste your time in school and work in office - Why fight with men in their field? Look at us, we do all the work at home and in the field. We take care of the children.
We cook all the food. We let the men think they are in charge. If we don’t like them, we can always influence the children against their father. If they are really bad, we can always poison their food. Do you really think you are better than us with your education and your job in the office, fighting men all the time? Can you be happy?”
Although my ego wanted to dismiss their reply as uncivilised, something deeper told me to be quiet – not to speak on matters I hardly knew. In an inexplicable way, I understood them and the wisdom of how they led their life. It was simple and basic. Something I was not used to in my complex city life. Perhaps they were right, I might never be happy with my education, with my job, fighting with men all the time.
I could not win this debate. I offered a smile as a peace offering. They smiled in return. Even when I could not make out the words they said, I understood. Our eyes spoke a universal language.
The chatter continued on more mundane topics." "
It is a good read.
"Conversations at Tea in Seiyoun (Hadramawt) Yemen"
"There were at least ten women sitting in front of me. I was served tea. The tea was strong and thick, with one cube of sugar, served in small glasses with the tea barely covering the sugar.The women were talking and laughing amongst themselves but their eyes were on me. I was curious about them, they were more curious about me.
Except for S and M, they all looked about my age, at most a year or two older. Most of them had at least one child thugging at the side. Without their burkahs, I could see their faces in full. All of them were very good looking. There was something wild and carefree about them when they were just amongst women - their chatter and giggles were lively. Their eyes were especially beautiful. Enhanced by kohl, they shone bright, expressive, and got my full attention.
S, who had visited Singapore several times, could speak heavily accented Malay. She acted as my interpreter. M who was next to me, was assigned to follow me around. I woke up that morning and found M at my door smiling. Initially I thought she was there to direct me to breakfast, but when she did not go away, despite my various attempts to tell her to, I gave up and tried to get used to having her around me.
I was asked all sorts of questions – where I got my clothes, where I got my earrings, where I got my pendant, whether I knew what my pendant meant (my pendant was Allah in Arabic).I found the tea way too thick, way too sweet and I kept adding hot water. I nibbled on the nuts and fried dough. I was uncomfortable with the attention I got.
I wanted to change the conversation, so I started asking the questions. I asked about their names and their meanings, about their children, about school. They asked whether I was still in school. I decided to show off. I told them about my work, and I recited my education history, all the time with a smug smile on my face.
I saw the look of surprises. There were a few giggles. M, smiled shyly. S, stared hard at me. She asked for my right hand, turned it upwards and caressed my palm. She then asked M to give me her right hand and told me to caress M’s palm. I felt M’s palm, it was rough, rougher than mine. S announced that M was 16 years old and that my palm was too young for my age.
I was not surprise that M was only 16, her face looked her age, but understood that her palm felt much older and that the women were surprise to hear that I was 25 years old (had studied for 18 years from age 7 onwards). I also understood that compared to me, M did housework and worked in the field.
After a brief silence which allowed me to digest the situation, one lady started to speak, followed by another, and another, and they spoke amongst themselves. I saw curiosity but also a challenge. S took her time to let almost all the women speak. When she was satisfied that they had asked their questions, S looked at me, with a slight smile and spoke:
“They want to know why you studied so long, so hard? Would it not be a waste of time?”
My first reaction was to pity the women for not realising the value of education. I proudly answered that I went to school to get an education, which got me my good job. I added that in my country women could go to the highest level of education and work just like men, and I hoped one day the women in Hadramawt would also enjoy the same right to education and a good job, all the time with a smug smile on my face.
S was careful and slow in her translation. It warned me of a clash of cultures.The reply led to many chatters, but one woman stood up to speak.
She was articulate. She spoke calmly, but with strength and indignation. Her eyes were all the time on me, with almost a pitiful smile and a dare. From the expressions I saw on the other women’s faces, they supported her reply.
I was curious but met her eyes and the dare. I wanted to hear the reply of the women from Seiyoun whom I presumed had not much of an education. S translated slowly:
“They wanted to know why you waste your time in school and work in office - Why fight with men in their field? Look at us, we do all the work at home and in the field. We take care of the children.
We cook all the food. We let the men think they are in charge. If we don’t like them, we can always influence the children against their father. If they are really bad, we can always poison their food. Do you really think you are better than us with your education and your job in the office, fighting men all the time? Can you be happy?”
Although my ego wanted to dismiss their reply as uncivilised, something deeper told me to be quiet – not to speak on matters I hardly knew. In an inexplicable way, I understood them and the wisdom of how they led their life. It was simple and basic. Something I was not used to in my complex city life. Perhaps they were right, I might never be happy with my education, with my job, fighting with men all the time.
I could not win this debate. I offered a smile as a peace offering. They smiled in return. Even when I could not make out the words they said, I understood. Our eyes spoke a universal language.
The chatter continued on more mundane topics." "
Sunday, June 21, 2009
The SISTERS - PAS saga and Syed Akbar Ali's book launch
Here are three articles from THE SUNDAY STAR today about the recent saga between certain segment of PAS and SISTERS. There is a good reason why I am blogging this issue with Syed Akbar's book launch: do buy his book(s - he has two earlier ones that is worth reading too), and you will understand why...
Syed's book was launched by Tun Dr Mahathir.
For The Sunday Star articles click here
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/21/focus/4166061&sec=focus
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/21/focus/4166062&sec=focus
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/21/focus/4166071&sec=focus
To go to Syed's launch, click here http://syedsoutsidethebox.blogspot.com/2009/06/tun-dr-mahathir-launches-my-book-things.html
Syed's book was launched by Tun Dr Mahathir.
For The Sunday Star articles click here
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/21/focus/4166061&sec=focus
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/21/focus/4166062&sec=focus
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/21/focus/4166071&sec=focus
To go to Syed's launch, click here http://syedsoutsidethebox.blogspot.com/2009/06/tun-dr-mahathir-launches-my-book-things.html
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Something Positive - By Shad Faruqi
Wednesday June 17, 2009
THE STAR
What makes Malaysia tick
Reflecting on the Law
By SHAD SALEEM FARUQI
Instead of creating a melting pot, Malaysia painstakingly weaved a rich cultural mosaic, the various people like the colours of a rainbow – separate but not apart.
A HIGH-POWERED delegation from Afghanistan is visiting the UM’s International Institute of Public Policy and Management to study our parliamentary system and to get a background on what makes our country tick.
And tick it does! Even US President Barack Obama gave us a pat on the back for being an exemplar among Muslim nations.
To continue click here : http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/17/focus/4122207&sec=focus
THE STAR
What makes Malaysia tick
Reflecting on the Law
By SHAD SALEEM FARUQI
Instead of creating a melting pot, Malaysia painstakingly weaved a rich cultural mosaic, the various people like the colours of a rainbow – separate but not apart.
A HIGH-POWERED delegation from Afghanistan is visiting the UM’s International Institute of Public Policy and Management to study our parliamentary system and to get a background on what makes our country tick.
And tick it does! Even US President Barack Obama gave us a pat on the back for being an exemplar among Muslim nations.
To continue click here : http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/17/focus/4122207&sec=focus
Sunday, June 14, 2009
1MALAYSIA - By Dr Chandra
Sunday June 14, 2009
SUNDAY STAR
1Malaysia: The way ahead
By DR CHANDRA MUZAFFAR
Besides the Government, all strata of Malaysian society must commit to the challenge of transforming the concept into reality by bridging existing gaps.
IN his royal address in conjunction with the King’s birthday on June 6, 2009, His Majesty the Yang di-Pertuan Agong, Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin, called upon all Malaysians to make the ‘1Malaysia’ concept central to their lives.
On the same occasion, the proponent of the concept, Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak, made it explicitly clear that in its quest for national unity, 1Malaysia will be guided by the Malaysian Constitution.
This clarification is important since it defines what the 1Malaysia quest is and what it is not.
Click here to continue -
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/14/focus/4116287&sec=focus
SUNDAY STAR
1Malaysia: The way ahead
By DR CHANDRA MUZAFFAR
Besides the Government, all strata of Malaysian society must commit to the challenge of transforming the concept into reality by bridging existing gaps.
IN his royal address in conjunction with the King’s birthday on June 6, 2009, His Majesty the Yang di-Pertuan Agong, Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin, called upon all Malaysians to make the ‘1Malaysia’ concept central to their lives.
On the same occasion, the proponent of the concept, Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak, made it explicitly clear that in its quest for national unity, 1Malaysia will be guided by the Malaysian Constitution.
This clarification is important since it defines what the 1Malaysia quest is and what it is not.
Click here to continue -
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2009/6/14/focus/4116287&sec=focus
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)