'It's only a piece of cloth'

Can a woman in a hijab still get a taxi? asks Yvonne Ridley



The Observer


Wearing a headscarf is no big deal... unless you happen to be a Muslim, in which
case this simple piece of cloth arouses opinions, hostile glances and worse.

When I converted to Islam I knew I would have to embrace the Muslim head-dress.
As for many converts, it was a huge stumbling block and I found all sorts of
excuses not to wear the hijab - basically a symbol of modesty and a very public
statement. When I finally did, the repercussions were enormous. All I did was
put on a headscarf, but from that moment I became a second-class citizen.

The reaction from some people was unbelievable. I knew I would become a target
for abuse from the odd Islamaphobic oik, but I didn't expect so much open
hostility from complete strangers. I can no longer be sure of getting a black
cab in London... something I had taken for granted for many years. Let me give
you some examples from the past two weeks: Edgware Road in London, an area with
a substantial Arab population: three black cabs, orange 'for hire' lights
glowing, drive past one after another. It's about 11.30pm and I'm freezing and
desperate to get home. A fourth taxi stops to discharge a white passenger. I
reach the vehicle and tap the window, beaming from ear-to-ear at my saviour.
The driver turns and stares hard, his face contorted into hatred and rage, and
drives off.

Last month, pre-hijab, he would have returned the smile; now, in his eyes, I
have been transformed into a terrorist. Next day, horrified by the events of
the previous evening, I tell my story to a non-Muslim friend who is not
sympathetic. 'Well if you go around looking like a Chechen Black Widow what do
you expect?' she says. But black is my favourite colour. It's just that my
little black dress has become a big black dress. That afternoon, I change my
black hijab in favour of a paler silk turban-look which still covers my head.
Very Vivienne Westwood, I think. I get my black cab without hassle, just a mere
wave of the arm and I am taken to the West End for lunch with a very close
friend who happens to be Jewish. It was the first time she had seen me in a
hijab but she just laughs and makes some nice compliments. In her eyes I am the
same person she became friends with five years ago. No change. What a relief.

Later that day I meet some Muslim friends who also have not seen me for some
time. They are excited to see me wearing a hijab, but tell me I look like a
cross between a cancer victim and an Israeli settler. I report the unsavoury
incident in the Edgware Road which had reduced me to tears.

'Welcome to the real world. This is what we have to put up with 24/7,' one tells
me. There is more laughter at my apparent naivety, but I am puzzled and peeved
at their acceptance that this is the way of things in Britain today. A couple
of days later I attend Yasser Arafat's memorial at London's Friends' Meeting
House and dress appropriately in black with matching hijab showing a small
sliver of Palestinian kaffiyeh across the forehead.

I may as well be sporting a Hamas-green 'jihad' tattoo across my temple from the
openly hostile glares I receive from some passengers on London's Underground.
Feeling uncomfortable and intimidated I get off at Baker Street and go to a
taxi bay for the shortish journey down Euston Road. 'It's just across the road,
why don't you walk?' barks the cabbie before returning to his newspaper.

There have been other incidents including one taxi driver's, 'Don't leave a bomb
in the back seat,' or, 'Where's bin Laden hiding?' There are also amusing
moments such as being congratulated in Regent's Park mosque for my excellent
grasp of English.

But, in the eyes of many, I no longer am a real person. Waiters talk loudly and
slowly if I am on my own, and if I am with a non-hijabi female, she is asked
what I would like to eat. So, when I see a woman wearing a hijab, regardless of
whether I know her, I smile and say in Arabic, 'As-Salaam-Alaikum,' which means,
'Peace unto you'. I know that the rest of her encounters that day may well be
hostile.