Finally one morning I woke up and I believed in god, in Allah. It was strange, I had read so many things aobut islam for a whole year, spent my time with them but all the same I had never completely let go of my old life, I was still hanging on to it with the grasp of my fingertips. But this morning I had decided that I wanted to convert. All year the thoughts had come through my mind several times, and I always feared them, I feared how to go about them and I feared what people would think about me. But day after day I let my brain battle and today it had deciceded that a muslim is what I am and what I will be.

I wke up pulled on my jeans and my dress, then I did something I never expected myself to do. I opened my drawer and pulled out my sky blue Pashmina shawl. I remembered the way I had seen Zarah put it on so many times and I did it to. I pulled the long side and wrapped it around my head, covering all my hair, part of my face and my neck, I shoved my pony-tail down the back of my dress. My heart shook as I peered in the mirror at Muslim me. I walked out of my room but fearfully retreated again, I tried three times before successfully leaving my flat and attending my morning lecture at university.

I sat there in the lecture hall, half concealing my face, quiet as a dead mouse waiting to be buried, I felt like everyone would stare at me but nobody did. And then Zarah walked in, she kept craning her head around, looking for someone. Then she finally turned her head and looked right at me. She looked dumbfounded and her laugh froze as she was lost for words. Then suddenly she burst out” oh my god you look so nice! Oh my god your wearing a scarf?!” slowly all her girlfriends started to realise and they all fussed and fawned over me, I felt happy and embarrassed at the same time.

I then, was given a real introduction to Islam, I was taught everything by my friends and some muslim scholars came to see me. I had to say the ‘shahadat’, a declaration of faith: there is no god but Allah and mohammed is the messenger of Allah. They taught me the basics of Islam and they taught me ‘wuthu’ and how to pray.

I remember my first prayer, it was alongside Zarah, she guided me all the way through. When I used to watch from the side-lines I could only see silent movements, when I actually said the words and did the prayer myself the feeling was indescribable. Words cannot bring those feelings to view, nothing can.

I didn’t have to say much to my parents, I simply walked in the door and let them see me. One really good thing about Hijab is that anyone in one is a Muslim, it’s a sign of a Muslim. My father looked as though he wanted to be sick and my mother went as white as a sheet when they saw me in one. My parents were a bit taken aback, they couldn’t believe any of it. I felt a bit bad about it, doing all this, but to me, this was the right thing, the best thing and they just had to accept me for it. After some time, my father silently agreed and my mother was so supportive. Every time I would meet my family I would tell them so much about Islam and what I had learnt. My eldest sister had stubbornly accepted it but she wouldn’t hear any of it, she didn’t want anything to do with it. Still, my mothers support was enough, and my faith in god was enough.