THE stand-up comedian warming up the audience before the premiere of the British Muslim movie, Finding Fatimah, had us in stitches with Muslim, albeit Asian-flavoured jokes.
We were comfortable laughing at ourselves; the audience at the Odeon Leicester Square was 99.9 per cent Muslims.
We were biding time, waiting for Maghrib prayers, before the start of the movie touted as “the not-so-typical romantic comedy”, in aid of orphans in East Africa hosted by Penny Appeal, a charity organisation.
The comedian then related his journey home in a crowded bus, hanging on to the overhead strap, his head under someone’s armpit.
We roared with laughter as we had all experienced that before - a most nauseating experience - especially during summer.
To distract himself, he decided to recite a surah, and began with ‘Bismillahirrahmanirrahim’ (In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious and Merciful). We knew what the punchline would be: “the crowd moved away”. A recitation or a phrase in Arabic, these days, would seem to be the best way to disperse a crowd.
It is sad, but we laughed at that, too, although a little uneasily because most of us, as Muslims, had at some point uttered Bismillah, Allahuakbar (Allah is Great) when in a crowded place and that, to us, is normal. But these are not normal times for Muslims living in a non-Muslim country.
In the wake of terrorist acts, said to have been done in the name of Islam, we have learnt to be sensitive and more importantly, careful in what we do in a very public area. There had been terrorist attacks in the country and in neighbouring shores, said to have been done in the name of Islam. In the wake of the recent bloodied incident in Westminster, Muslims and Muslim organisations throughout the length and breadth of the United Kingdom had gathered with placards and banners distancing themselves from this senseless act.
Still, in the Odeon in Leicester Square in the heart of London, we broke up for prayers. I had earlier expected to do prayers in a small corner somewhere but the cinema management had actually given us the whole of the second floor for prayers, with an imam, in full view of the people milling outside.
This, to me, is another example of the tolerant and accommodating society of London.
It had been exactly a week since that incident which claimed the lives of four people, including a policeman on duty at the gates of the Palace of Westminster. In fact, I had gone to the cinema after going to witness a solemn ceremony on the bridge where hundreds of people had gathered to join members of the police force, and held hands in a show of solidarity to mark the day a lone attacker ruined the lives of many people, and at the same time, put another black mark in the history of Muslims in the UK.
Walking down to get some nachos, the girl behind the counter helpfully advised me that only three flavours were halal and offered me those. This tidbit was offered even without me asking her.
I find this almost at every pattiserie with salesgirls offering to enlighten us on the ingredients used. While we are trying to integrate and live alongside others in a country we now call home, others, too, are trying their best to accommodate and understand us.
But how easily we forget these little gestures for we saw the bigger picture of hypocrisy in the media dealing with coverage of incidents involving deaths of fellow Muslims. We allow the bigger picture to overshadow the little gestures.
We easily forget that among the Muslims trying to show solidarity and laying down the flowers were Christians and Jews reaching out their hands in friendship.
I have experienced first-hand the backlash of the 7/7 London bombings of 2005, when Islamophobia reared its ugly head.
When news about the explosions in King’s Cross Station, Russell Square and Edgware Road splashed across the screen, I debated whether I should go out and do the coverage at site rather than watch the tragedy unfolding on television. I had just decided to don the hijab and I knew what it meant.
I had already heard that a friend had had her hijab pulled when she went out to throw out the garbage, of buses that refused to move because a hijabi woman was on board and other passengers had protested.
I had had enough of cowing my head down in the tube facing passengers reading the morning papers with headlines screaming Muslim terrorists across the front pages.
So, did I just stay at home and not deal with the reality? Needless to say, I put on my best hijab and went out to do what I had to do. It wasn’t easy. You tend to imagine the worst; that people would tar you with the same brush.
But a kind Italian cameraman I was working with made the whole three days of coverage of the incident in and around London easier for me. He was there to protect me when someone threw a can of beer at me. He warned me seconds before the contents splattered on his car screen. He was there to convince me that the abusive words from passengers in another car were actually directed at him.
And, as I had mentioned in an earlier posting, a kind word from Terry Waite, then envoy of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had been dealt harshly by a Muslim fundamentalist group in Lebanon’s Beirut, made a lot of difference in how I face these challenging times.
Waite was held in solitary confinement for five years. When he was released, he continued his mission to bring peace between Christians and Muslims in the Middle East. I saw him on a crowded bus. He got down at Green Park and I spoke to him about the abusive words and the hatred.
He said: “Allow it, for they had to express their anger at someone, anyone. Then, it will pass.”
It did because we, as peace-loving Muslims, are not afraid to go out and show this other side of Islam that is always being overshadowed by hideous and cowardly acts of some people. It did, because we didn’t hide at home and expect people to do things for us.
There will always be moments when you think you are being singled out because you are a Muslim, such as the longer screening procedures at the airports. I balance this with the provision of prayer rooms at airports, hospitals and even courts.
Some shopping complexes now have prayer rooms with some of the best facilities for ablution. Conference halls, too, provide such facilities as well as halal food.
I remember one evening covering an event at the Palace of Westminster. Maghrib was almost over. I walked around searching for a corner to perform my prayers. A staff kindly opened a dining room and instructed a waiter to stand guard so I could pray in peace.
These are little kind and thoughtful gestures that I will never forget when faced with tough and challenging moments.
We should never be defeated by acts of violence and hatred.