Sep 1 2014
“Why I chose to leave Islam.”
By: (Author prefers to remain anonymous for security reasons)
My father was a great man, may he rest in peace, as life wasn’t kind to him. He was Muslim by name but he preferred his African culture which he was proud of. My mother never wore a hijab nor did anyone in my family. Islam was a faith that was preached to us as a religion of peace. We never looked closer.
At a young age, I remember my father telling my mother that he did not want us to attend an Islamic school as religion and modern education contradicted each other and that I and my brothers and sisters will be confused as result. There was no animosity towards other religions in our household and we went to Christian schools. I was lucky, I had parents who were open-minded. We were like any normal family.
Normal, that is, until my older brother started showing strong interest in practicing Islam.
Without going into too much detail, my brother’s behavior changed. He became strange and distant as if he and I no longer had anything in common. The brother I used to play with when we were children had become a total stranger. Even though I loved him, I avoided him, I turned away, hoping it was a phase he was going to grow out of. I was wrong as it turned out to be deadly (for him).
I remember my mother telling me that she had contacted the Federal Police and reported my brother’s strange behavior. She was worried and she felt helpless. The police did not help because my brother did not have any prior convictions and on paper he looked like a good kid.
I, for one, thought mother was overreacting because in my mind, it was impossible that my brother would do something so stupid. You see, he was bright, but too trusting. I think that’s how the Islamist preachers got to him. He married a Muslim convert of English and Irish descent who wore a face veil, in a small religious ceremony that none of the family members attended.
At times I wondered, why one earth would someone want to convert to be part of this madness? It was odd indeed, then again, we live in a strange world. You see, my sister-in law-believes she found the truth and that that the rest of us are losers. Sadly, she could not be any further away from the truth.
My brother travelled to Somalia but, of course, he never told me he was going there, and as I was busy with life, I never gave it much thought. I wish I had. I will always blame myself and it is something I have to live with.
When my brother’s death was reported to us we were in complete shock. My mother, however, was waiting for bad news. I remember nights before, she prayed for hours and I knew she was praying for my brother. My mother prays till this day, it’s heartbreaking to see her in pain. She gets so angry about how the Western governments are not doing enough when she watches the news and sees that what happened to us, is now happening everywhere, and it’s no longer an isolated incident.
A day or two later, people were knocking at our door with smiles and gifts, they seemed happy. At first, it did not make any sense until I asked what the gifts were for and what were they happy about? Then it hit me, they were happy that my brother was killed, they were happy he was buried like an animal, they were happy because we were miserable.
My sister in law was still in Somalia at the time. When I found her phone number a week or so later, it was what she told me that I will forever remember. You see I was desperate, I needed to know. I was in shock and I could not believe that this was happening. So I asked her, what happened to my brother? Her response was clear, she told that my brother was killed and she was very happy, and when I asked her about his body she said he was buried and that was it. We never spoke again.
He was a martyr and somehow we were supposed to be happy about it. Islam betrayed me that day. I have told the relatives and neighbors with gifts at our front door to never come back, and if they did, that I will report them to police., I told them they were monsters and to burn in hell. But I wasn’t done yet, someone had to pay for our misery and I wasn’t going to lose without a fight.
My brother had two little children, a girl and boy, that we have managed to bring back home with the help of the police. It wasn’t easy but we did get them and they are now safe. We placed their names on a watch list so their mother cannot take them out of the country as she wanted to move to Saudi Arabia with her new husband, whom she married one week after my brother’s death.
We did not succeed in our attempt to get full custody, as there wasn’t enough evidence that my sister-in-law was part of terrorist network. However, we have visitation rights, meaning we can influence their upbringing. Almost a decade ago, the Al-Qaeda linked Al-Shabaab terror group of Somalia was not well-known, however, Islam’s brutal ideology was always there in Somalia. It was a long battle, the court case alone took a little over three years. That was five years of my life of complete madness.
As a young girl, it was hard, and deep down inside, I hated Islam, because Islam hates women. My mother never bothered me too much, she herself was bullied for not wearing Arabian/Muslim attire, instead preferring to wear her traditional African clothes. I recall my mother one day telling a group of Muslim women who came over that she would never wear their Arabian clothes as it symbolized hell on earth.
Praying was an aspect of Islam I found very hard because, I have to pray to Allah and Mohammed and it bothered me. I felt that I was betraying my conscious. How could I pray to same Allah and Mohammed as the terrorists do? I could not have any association with the same people I hate so much.
I can go on further, however, the point I’m trying to make is that Islam hurts the people who believe in it the most. The best of the Muslims are those who fight for the creation of Muslim world and those like me are the ultimate betrayers who deserve to be killed. My brother was the best Muslim in our family and all he got was a miserable ending and hurt so many people along the way.
Change is like death, a part of me died that day. I and my family found help from the very same people that Islam call infidels whilst our own relatives and the Muslim community betrayed us.