Again, speaking for me. Good job. I love you, person who I have no spoken before until today. My white warrior who does not know or understand my life and does not want to.
Inside my home, I had a very happy life, walillahilhamd. My mother is the head of household, completed her degree while bringing us up. I done well in school, got into uni, and now I'm completing my masters. My immediate family are my heroes, even if they still don't understand certain things (i.e. being a queer). I still try to bring up the topic, but that is literally the only hurdle between them and me.
Outside our house, the world is hostile. I have been discriminated against for being black, the child of immigrants, for being a woman who has a religious belief and dares to show it, inside and outside Europe. Since I was a child I was aware that the world is not as safe as my home. I have heard stories of people being persecuted for being black, for being of another clan, for being an immigrant, for being muslim. I used to watch the news with my mother, and she told us of how she herself has being imprisoned back in her home country for wearing the hijab (and now they persecute women if they don't wear the hijab, see a pattern here?).
I grow up in countries where Human Rights is touted, and where there are no human rights. I faced many challenges, all oppressions under different guises, and triumphed against some, while failed against others, and learned from my failure. Throughout all this, my only constant apart from being a story-lover, was my faith. I fought for my rights because I wanted to, and I have God and my faith backing me up. Is that too hard to understand? Am I pitiful for relying on my faith to view life optimistically when there are so many bigots hating me for existing? Are you telling me that now the Human Rights court have approved a law that works against me, I'm so pitifal to rely on my faith to keep going against the injustice and to get angry about it? Are you saying that my fight is not worth it? What fights are worth it? Tell me. I am a muslim. My faith is part of my identity. Not only because I grew up with it, but that I believe it is the right way to live. I am as muslim as I am black, queer and female. I may not be worth it to you, as I am sure a lot of people around the world think. You may think that I shouldn't be existing, that combination of too many minority identities must be exhausting or wrong (whichever camp of the ignorance you are). But let me tell you: I am proud of who I am. I am not ashamed of who I am. I had a good but difficult life, but I would never exchange it for anything else.
Belittle me all you want. Pity me all you want. Tell me that I'm wrong and that you know how I should live my life. You are not helping me and you are not my white knight warrior. And you shall not speak on my behalf further.