Seats in the school’s large auditorium were filled to capacity Friday night. Excitement buzzed in the air, silent but palpable. Some men and women stood behind the back row on the lower level, standing alongside the press who couldn’t find seats in the now-packed front row reserved for media.
Dozens of the Islamic weekend school teachers, as well as friends of Amal and Veronica, were scattered throughout the auditorium’s two levels. The colorful assortment of hijabs added to the already diverse atmosphere. The entire first row was filled with men and women wearing press badges, and their bulky cameras and equipment cramped the aisles on both sides of the rows of seats.
The second and third rows were occupied by awardees from grades nine to twelve, but their awards would be only a preamble to the historic awarding of the Distinguished Student Award and the Future Hope Scholarship. And Inaya, the recipient of both awards, was sitting separately from the students—backstage—preparing for her keynote speech.
Veronica sat in the center of one of the middle rows, and she was more relaxed than she imagined she’d be. She had stressed so much over not wearing the face veil that she had folded her favored black niqaab and tucked it into her purse, just to keep it close. But she was surprised by how comfortable she felt without it.
Though Veronica was conscious of how conspicuous her navy blue jilbaab and head covering made her appear amidst the public school audience, she felt a sense of camaraderie amongst the Muslim women dressed similarly. Anisa sat a row behind Veronica, wearing her favored all-black jilbaab and face veil. When Veronica turned and met her friend’s gaze, she found that Anisa had flipped back the niqaab, a pleasant expression on her face. Anisa gave Veronica a thumbs-up, letting her know that she was happy to be there, and that she was proud of Inaya.
Veronica shifted in her chair as the program dragged on. She stifled a yawn as she listened to speech after speech. Teachers and administrators droned on about students Veronica didn’t know or care about. Names were called out for various awards and honors, and bored, Veronica glanced at her watch. Over an hour passed, and she fidgeted, anxiously awaiting the announcement she had come for.
“And tonight I have the honor to introduce you to our keynote speaker,” Mrs. Ford said from the stage podium an hour and a half after the program started.
At these words, Veronica sat up, unable to keep from grinning. She turned to Anisa, and beaming, Anisa made a gesture of upturned hands, reminding Veronica to pray for Inaya’s success. Anisa mouthed the words, “Make du’aa.”
Veronica nodded, still unable to contain her wide smile as she turned forward and murmured a prayer to Allah. She prayed that Inaya’s speech would be an inspiration to all present and an opportunity for others to learn about Islam in a positive light. “O Allah,” she whispered, “even if only from seeing one of Your servants covered in hijab.”
“…and on behalf of Future Hope Baptist Church,” Mrs. Ford said, eliciting a rumbling of chatter and commotion from the press occupying the first rows and the repositioning of the men and women behind the video cameras, “I introduce to you this year’s recipient of both the Distinguished Student Award and the Future Hope Scholarship…Inaya Donald.”
There was a roar of applause, and some of the audience stood, amongst them the teachers at the Islamic weekend school and the friends of Amal and Veronica. Veronica and Anisa also stood for the standing ovation and there were hoots and cheers, inciting in Veronica a sense of pride that made her feel as if her chest would burst.
Tears stung Veronica’s eyes as Mrs. Ford looked to her right, the side of the stage where Inaya would emerge to take her place before the podium.
When Inaya emerged, Veronica was momentarily distracted by the gasps of surprise she heard around her, and her heart raced, sensing something was wrong. Then she lifted her gaze toward the stage to see what was causing the confusion…
***
Inaya made it a point to avoid Mrs. Ford’s gaze as she took confident strides toward the podium. But she knew that the faculty advisor to BOSS would be staring at her dumbfounded…because before this moment Mrs. Ford had had no idea that Inaya was Muslim.
“Then they can see for themselves who’s really superior.”
These were the words that ignited in Inaya a flame of spiritual pride and determination that inspired her to stand before the entire school—and perhaps the world—wearing the very clothes she had tucked away in shame just hours before.
Tears stung her eyes as the audience quieted and she stood behind the podium on stage. Inaya blinked to keep the tears from spilling forth, and she drew in a deep breath in preparation for the speech she had spent so much time preparing.
In that brief moment before she spoke her first words, Inaya was overwhelmed with a longing for her mother. She wished she hadn’t been so selfish in ensuring that Veronica would know nothing of tonight’s program.
I’m proud to be Muslim, Inaya’s heart cried, her lips creased in the beginning of a smile as she lifted her gaze to the auditorium filled with people, and I invite you to share in this love of Allah—in this world and in the Hereafter.
If there was anything that Inaya wanted to show her mother right then, it was this moment. Despite all Veronica’s bickering and lecturing, and Inaya’s outbursts of frustration—and their collective anxiety and tearful prayers, Inaya was a distinguished student offering future hope to the world, only because Veronica was her mother.
For all the annoyance Inaya felt with Veronica’s rigidity, the only stubbornness that Inaya knew could never change was her mother’s overpowering love for her.
Yes, her mother deserved to be there tonight, Inaya thought sadly as she cleared her throat and straightened the notecards in her hands. She whispered a silent prayer to Allah that He would somehow make her mother witness the power of this moment, even if only from a YouTube video or on the local morning news.
Maybe Veronica and Inaya could clip the article from a newspaper and frame it on their walls—and forever hold it close to their hearts.
I love you, Mommy, Inaya’s heart cried. And may Allah love you too. Because after Allah, it is only because of you that I am standing here being honored tonight.