Why Muslim women ought to question their faith as regards to their individual liberties; Part 3 of 3.

Continued from Part 2................

Today, I am a 32 year old and married to a non-Muslim. I have two lovely little munchkins and jolly-happy in my marriage. However, it has not been easy and I am yet to reach my destination. It has not been easy because, though they have sort of cut me off, they have never completely left me alone.

I remember when my hubby proposed, I confided in my sister, (who was living abroad), that I had met my soul mate and that I did not care he was not Muslim. I confided in her because I though she would be better placed in understanding that these things happen. Girl meets boy, girl is swept off her feet and she falls in love with his personality, not caring what religion he belonged to. Boy was I wrong! The first thing my sister asked me was 'who is he?' meaning 'what religion/color/creed'? The only answer I could find was 'he is like me'.

Obviously she couldn't comprehend what I was on about. So I told her he was mixed race, half Kikuyu half Austrian and that he is British too. None of it mattered to me because he was a child of the world and I was madly and deeply in love.

My sister fell short of telling me to dump him. Then she called back and said that I should have him convert to Islam first. I said no. I am sure you can imagine how the rest played out. The news reached my mother and she showed up at my work place for some confrontation. With a few glares from my co-workers, lets just say that it was quite a scene.

Long story short, she begged me not to marry him, she threatened that she will never speak to me. She threatened to curse any offspring that would come from such a union. I deafened my ears, grew an even thicker skin and married the love of my life.

Though we are in the same country I have not spoken to my mother in years. But because she is my mother, and I still love her, from time to time, I call my younger sisters to find out if she is okay. She still refuses to acknowledge my choice. She has even once called my little girl 'haram'. which loosely translated means 'unclean/forbidden'. That is her granddaughter, beautiful little thing who would never understand what the fuss is all about.

My bubbly baby girl is not haram to me. She is an intelligent four year old who fills my day with laughter and little smart remarks. My little girl is pure spirit, uncorrupted and free.

Because of these choices I have made, I have also had my share of anonymous death threats and direct threats from close family. Phone calls full of abusive language, vile and hatred. Because of these choices, I have had to change my number a couple of times. A caller said to me "You are the one who married the enemy, lets see if that enemy protects you when the wrath of Allah showers upon you". The police traced the caller's cell number to my home town. 

My loving and devoted husband is everything but the enemy. Whose enemy anyway? He loves me and would give his life for me, that is a fact. So who are you to tell me about what enemy?

Mine is a continuous battle. Battling both the self and those around me. I am not there yet. But with time and a few more thick skin,  I will get there. Just to ensure the pure uncorrupted spirit of my kids is maintained until they reach an age to make their own choices.