#justmeandallah

[queermuslimproject]

Photography and interview by Samra Habib

Who: Raissa, Brussels

My family knew that I was transgender since I was a child in Mali. They had forbidden me from doing things associated with being a girl like playing with dolls. Growing up, I was kept hidden by my family so that no one would know that I'm trans. When guests would ask about me, my parents would lie and say they didn't know where I was. I got really good at school because I couldn't  have a social life. My teachers loved me because I was really good at school. They actually really respected me and didn't mind that I'm trans. I was one of the top students. I studied economics and statistics in Cameroon. The LGBT movement in Cameroon was really powerful and it inspired me to become an activist when I went back to Mali. I started working as a statistician for the government. During my transition, I was researching hormones that were the best for me. My doctor and almost all the pharmacies refused to help me. Finally, I found a pharmacy right by my house that gave me all the hormones I needed to help me with my transition. At this point, I was still working for the Mali government. I started feeling more and more comfortable with my body. I loved wearing dresses and accessories when going out. That's when the police started harassing me. One night, more than 20 people started beating me in a club because I'm trans. I thought I was going to die. An older guy saved me by putting me in a taxi. I was too afraid to stay in Mali so I fled to Brussels where I'm currently seeking asylum. I can't imagine going back to Mali.

When I was young, I went to Quran school. I thought it was strange when the imam said that LGBT people would go to hell. I thought why would I go to a place that doesn't welcome me so I started praying by myself at home where I felt safe. I still pray to Allah and recite prayers from the Quran privately but I just want to feel like I'm accepted in Islam as a trans woman. In my heart, I'm still Muslim. My regular reading of the Quran brings me peace.

[justalittlenote]

#JustMeandAllah

[queermuslimproject]

Photography and interview by Samra Habib

Who: Hengameh, Berlin

I am a chubby, nerdy, sassy, sarcastic, grumpy, feminist killjoy. I love writing, fashion, making collages, eating, sitting in cafés, meeting up with friends, the internet, flea markets, coziness, crafting, DJing, cats, cake, being lazy and reading. My biggest passions are fashion, queer feminism, activism and music. I am a freelance journalist and a part-time editor at Missy Magazine—a German feminist pop-culture magazine. I also run a fashion blog.

I was born in a town called Kiel in Northern Germany to an Iranian Muslim couple. My parents are both quite religious but not super-religious, they believe in Allah, they go to the mosque every now and then, they stick to a halal diet. Growing up in a Muslim household meant being quite modest, trying to be pure (whatever that means) and being an honest person. That was the hardest because I lied a lot to my parents as a child. I was not as obedient as they wanted me to be and I was afraid of getting punished for eating too much candy and watching too much TV. My parents were quite strict and eager and they knew that I could only be successful in this country through education, which is a very classist way of thinking that a lot of migrant people get pushed into.

I got involved with Cutie BPoc Festival after moving to Berlin in April 2014 and feeling like I was trapped in a jar of mayo. The queer scene seemed so white and boring. I had a hard time identifying when I was being true to myself. In September 2014, I went to a Cutie BPoC party and it was really nice. I felt empowered and no longer weird and the group became a community to me.

It’s very hard not to believe that religion is bad when you grow up in an anti-Muslim society that demonizes Islam, especially post-9/11. I also saw how the highly racist, classist, sexist and heterosexist Iranian regime used Islam to legitimize their politics. I experimented with Buddhism and called myself a Universalist at one point and eventually reclaimed the Muslim identity less than a year ago. I did not know that I was allowed to call myself Muslim while being queer.

In Berlin, a few of my close friends are queer Muslims but the majority of them aren’t. It definitely gives me more hope to live in Berlin with this identity. Being with queer Muslims here is very empowering and healing for me. I feel supported now and it’s a great feeling to be allowed to embrace who I am.

As someone who identifies as gender queer, the German language can be problematic. I do not exist in the German language since there is no gender neutral pronoun whereas there is one in Farsi. Yet, I’m told by leftist, anti-religion people how backwards my culture is.