Can Black Muslims Simply Exist?

   As cliche as it sounds, university was a time I wanted to “find myself”. I’m talking “White Girl Gap Yurr” find yourself. I wanted to know who I really was. I wanted to know where I belonged.  Little did I know how much my identity as a Black Muslim Woman would shape that soul searching process.  

On this quest of discovering  how to just be, The past four years of university I have been ever changing yet somehow, paradoxically, life still remained  the same. A journey I’m still on, a 20 something, still figuring it out.

In my first year of university, I delved straight into familiarity, a society I instantly saw myself in, ISOC , the Islamic society.  I was figuring out how to navigate a predominately white institute as a Muslim woman. Many of my friends were made in the prayer room where we’d discuss our issues and inner conflicts of how we sometimes felt too Muslim or not Muslim enough in the spaces we occupied. Debates and discussion would include whether it was okay to shake hands with our male colleagues or study with our male classmates. Lets not  forget our constant hijab struggles of, Am I modest enough?

The entire first year of my university life was a new world.  I was  encompassed by people from all different cultures and creeds.

My search for striking the balance between being a “good” muslim and curious a teenager began. I learned  to focus on my flaws and always be of help to my sisters. Till today, as I enter the world of work,  I’m still searching for the perfect balance. The difference now being I’ve shed this  idea of perfection. And as a recovering perfectionist, I repeat; I am still figuring it out.

Now, to pick at the ever raw strand of my identity as a Black Woman. Although both strands of my identity as a Black Muslim cannot be separated I’ve found that a grey area of privilege has transpired. As a racially ambiguous person, the light nature of my skin means I can also pass for an Asian or Arab. For that reason, my experiences and treatment from my Muslim counterparts as a Black Muslim were very  different from that of my friends who were of a  deeper complexion or had stereotypical features of what it means to ‘look ‘ visibly Black. Striking the clear difference in our experiences, I became  deeply aware of the privilege that comes with looking Arab and Asian in Muslim communites and spaces. Picking up on these biases, I truly learned how alienating the Muslims at my campus and the world at large were towards the triple threat they saw that was a Black Muslim Woman. Placing within me a deep seated feeling of unsettlement.

During my second year of university, I took an African Literature module that was led by an African professor. It's important to note how rare it is to find this combination in a UK university. This was the first time in my life I’d been lectured by somebody Black in conjunction to a completely Black Reading List. It was life-changing. The way I connected to the literature we had read in that module completely changed how I viewed the world and how I viewed my African heritage. The book that completely changed the game for me was Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga. Never before, had a book resonated with me so  much. I never related to a character as deeply as I did with the protagonist, Tambu. The story follows a young Black woman on her search for self-emancipation. I related to her struggles of complicated mother-daughter bonds, Western education and body image. Reading this, helped me understand my identity as a Black woman. Through this book,  I learned the importance of representation and how important Literature can be in understanding ourselves.

Although, this book was a game-changer. I still felt as though something was missing. The layer of being Muslim. As I became obsessed with African Literature and learning about my roots, there was nothing written about Black Women who were also Muslim! I vowed to search for more Literature about women who meet at this intersection. How can we beBlack and Muslim in all aspects of life?

It was in my final year after being thoroughly exposed to the people and experiences of different religious and cultural backgrounds, when I began to question why these two identities are separate when they are so deeply connected. My religion is at the centre of my identity and my culture adds another layer. Whilst, my religion gives me purpose and my culture gives me vibrance.

Both my identities co - exist, however the world has got a long way in working on representing Black Muslims. Whether that be in Muslim or Black communites.  

Again and again, I see how Black women are angry and bitterbut never passionate. How Education or Healthcare systems do not deal with Black people with the same care as others. Or never knowing why a white woman or man is staring at me for longer than ten seconds. Sometimes it's “have a nice day” and sometimes it's “go back to your country.”  In a world of rising racism and Islamophobia, how do Black Muslims navigate themselves in this Dunya?

Through recent news social media began to reveal why it sometimes seems impossible to be both Black and Muslim. When George Floyd sparked the current Black Lives Matter Movement, social media saw an influx of Muslim Twitter and Instagram, engage and post things like, “What about the Muslims dying everyday in Syria, Palestine and China.” There is not much difference between this and “All Lives Matter.” The instant reaction from some Muslims was to talk about other groups and why they should be at the centre. We also witnessed several influencers delve into the conversation and say things like “Why can’t we all just be happy?” followed by performative apologies and resharing of posts without any real reflection. Oh and the most cringe-worthy of them all, the over-representation of the Sahaba Belal as a way of silencing the frustration of Black Muslims by tokenizing his story to say there is no space for racism amongst the Muslim community. As though, Belal, is the beginning and end of blackness in Islam.

This uproar from Muslim social media made me wonder why  In 2020, Black people cannot be the centre of a discussion on injustice, when they no longer feel safe to walk down the street, go to school, or  the supermarket.

Malcolm X, Black empowerment activist highlighted "the most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is a Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman.”Although Malcolm X refers to Black women in America, this can be applied to Black women across the world,with higher rate of harm being inflicted when they are also Muslim. As highlighted by the Shukri Abdi case, showed a 12 year old Somali refugee being bullied to death in Manchester. The very system which emphasises on safeguarding and protecting young people failed her and continues to fail countless others. This highlights the complexities of the existence of Black Muslims women as our identity is deeply political. Black Muslims are often trapped at a niche intersection of a structure of triple oppression through race, religion and gender. The micro and macro treatment faced by Black Muslims means getting through a day is praiseworthy.

This is not the first time Black Muslims have been unjustly killed, names we shouldn’t forget include Nabra Hassanen who was murdered and raped in the US in 2017. It is not new for the system to neglect and ignore Black Muslim women.

Warsan Shire put it perfectly when she wrote “I do not know where I am going, where I have come is disappearing, I am unwelcome and my beauty is not beauty here. My body is burning with the shame of not belonging.” Perhaps the poetry of Shire captures the feelings of belonging and existing that arise from not being completely accepted in one space. Coming from three marginalised groups can be politically and emotionally draining. This is why it becomes so much more difficult to feel complete security and belonging in any one space. In the topic of belonging  comes the subject of rootedness. Do people of triple identities feel a sense of rootedness in more than one space?  

Shire’s poetry captures how isolating it may feel as her home country, Somalia, is disappearing due to political strife paired with the irony of the country you resettle in also rejecting you. However, the beauty in Shire’s poetry is that it is beyond all the confusion of discovering where we truly belong; we can unite through art, in this case poetry.

On a more positive note, with a line from a poem by Lucille Clifton, “come celebrate with me that everyday something has tried to kill me and has failed.”

I would like to take a moment to appreciate all the Black Muslims living and thriving in this world. Black Muslims still find ways to exist and beyond that, create joy.  In the midst of everything happening right now, this is definitely a moment to celebrate the talent,  businesses and endeavours of Black Muslims. As stated by James Balwin,   “We the black and the white, deeply need each other here if we are really to become a nation [...] , to achieve our identity, our maturity, as men and women.” Let us hope this movement sparks everlasting deep rooted change, unlearning and unbraiding of subconscious biases. 

For those of us neither Black or Muslim, This is a great moment to encourage people to educate themselves.  This is a moment to do some real reading. For those looking for where to start, we have the Black Islam Syllabus, run by Kayla Renée Wheeler, who is dedicated to creating a platform which provides resources to bring forward the deleted stories of Black Muslims.

There is also  Black Muslim Psychology Conference, The title for this years conference being:

“In what ways do Black Muslims summon beauty from the most tragic of circumstances?” This conference and many other platforms display how Black Muslim still find ways to create beautiful art to connect us and spark important conversations.

I end this article with a prayer. I  pray for your strength to overcome every barrier, every moment of self-doubt. I pray you find balanced self-love which brings you inner peace and an abundance of self-forgiveness. To all the Black Muslims being their multidimensional selves, paving the way, allowing us to be more human, your existence alone exerts joy and you inspire us every day.

By Amina Ali

Instagram - @minabookish