She looked straight at him.
“Oh, by the way, I’ve decided that from today I’m going to wear a niqab all the time.”
“I see,” Lie said. He did not like playing things by ear and looked at his watch. “I need to get a move on if I want to catch my bus.”
She was one of his favorite students. Engaged, liked discussion and debate, and was knowledgeable. She could be a little weird at times, like when she had refused to go on the school trip to the nearby Catholic church or to a Buddhist temple. What he had found most odd was her unwillingness to come along to the mosque close to the school. She said their teachings were heresy. Ayan was very clear in her own mind about right and wrong and often expressed her views in class.
Her religious self-confidence was something he had not witnessed in any pupil previously. She spoke candidly about her faith. For Geir Lie, the fact she always mumbled “peace be with him” every time she mentioned the Prophet’s name was a genuine religious act. To put it simply, he was impressed and more than somewhat taken by his Somali pupil, not because he liked everything she came out with—on the contrary—but because she believed in it so strongly, a lighthouse in a sea of apathy.
It was a difficult class, troublesome, with a lot of absenteeism and loud, unruly boys. Many of these were Muslims, several of whom wanted to “catch him out” and get the better of him. They raised objections and quibbled at his teaching, but on the whole their knowledge was superficial, so it was mostly nagging and clamor that gave way to demonstrative passivity. While Ayan was eager for good grades, many of her male counterparts did not seem to think they needed a diploma. Geir Lie was well-meaning and not given to excessive reprimands. Only infrequently did he take someone to task. Once he had asked a pupil to leave the classroom because of the trouble he was causing. At least then the others might learn something. When the pupil refused to budge, Lie approached his desk. The pupil shouted, “Don’t come near me, kafir!”
Geir Lie exploded. “Out! Get out!”
“Don’t touch me!” the boy shouted.
“OUT!” Lie roared.
Afterward the boy rounded up a few classmates and went to the principal to complain. They wanted to get rid of the religion teacher. When Ayan got wind of this, she marched up to the principal’s office with a couple of girlfriends in tow to protest the complaint.
What was interesting, Lie thought, was that Ayan had authority in the class; no one made a noise when she spoke. She had a commanding personality and was impervious to criticism. One time, each pupil was to give a talk on a topic of his or her choice. She had presented an enthusiastic, albeit naïve, depiction of Islam. He let pass some comments about Christianity that were not quite correct and awarded her top marks.
The bus into the city center came into view around the corner. Lie stepped aboard. He wanted to make it to the Latin American Pentecostal church—Restauracion de Dios—before noon.
Ayan left the footpath and entered the school building, passing the “Welcome” sign written in Arabic, Persian, Urdu, and French, and continuing on down the corridors. Without removing her niqab, she walked into the classroom and sat down at her desk.
* * *
She has been married off. That was the Norwegian teacher’s first thought on entering the classroom and seeing the shrouded figure after her long absence. As she rounded the rows of desks and came to the front of the class, she saw that the pupil’s face was completely covered.
The outfit, which included long black gloves, reinforced the teacher’s suspicion that her parents had forced her into marriage. It was probably how their married women had to dress—to ensure that no other man could look upon them. There had been a special focus on forced marriages and genital mutilation at the schools in the Oslo region that year. The teachers had been sent material with information on the phenomena.
The Norwegian teacher was a slight, fair-haired woman in her fifties who preferred the pupils of yesteryear. She found herself constantly explaining words that seemed to be disappearing from the language: livestock was cattle, sap ran in spring, a pasture was where animals ate. What a demesne was and what gentry meant. She’d had pupils who did not know what a troll was. Was it possible to go through the Norwegian school system and never have heard of one? It certainly seemed so.
It was also lamentable when Knut Hamsun no longer stirred the emotions of the young. When the naturalist and feminist author Amalie Skram no longer brought a tear to the eye. Had literature lost its hold over young minds? At times the pupils could remind you of Dead Souls, they were so faraway in class. But not all the pupils were bad; some of them still wanted to engage in discussion, relate the works to their own lives, their own feelings, seek a convergence between literature and reality.
One of these was Ayan. She was an asset in class, whether the discussion was about nineteenth-century literature, the printing of caricatures, or freedom of expression. At the same time, conflicts rose around her. As form teacher, the Norwegian instructor was the one who had to have a word with Ayan the time the school was collecting donations for its annual fund-raising event. She had convinced several of her fellow pupils not to participate because the money was earmarked for Norwegian Church Aid. On another occasion, in an essay she submitted, she wrote that she viewed people who were not Muslims as weeds.
“What kind of view of humanity is this?” the teacher had asked. Or had Ayan not understood the concept of weeds?
Pupils from an immigrant background could have a weak and imprecise grasp of concepts. Perhaps she meant to say something else? Like how in a garden you needed many different types of plants—diversity?
The teacher asked Ayan to stay after class.
“Have you been married off?”
“No,” Ayan replied.
“Then why are you dressed like that?”
“I’m practicing.”
“For what?”
Ayan did not answer.
“To get married?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Are they sending you to Somalia?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Dressing this way, you’ll only shut yourself off from society from people, from working life…”
“Who said I wanted to work in Norway?”
“You’ll close the door on so many opportunities…”
“Who says I want to live here?”
Where had she learned to respond in this manner? Answering a question with a rhetorical question, so cocksure and rude. No matter, the rules forbade covering up in class.
“Here in Norway we have to show our faces.”
“You can’t prevent me from dressing how I want,” Ayan replied.
“Yes I can, there are clear rules about it.”
“Show me the rules,” Ayan said brusquely. “Where is it written?”
The teacher was nonplussed. Now that she thought about it, she could not remember seeing anything about covering up. She became uncertain.
“I’m going to have to take this up with the principal,” she said.
“Dressing like this is an important part of my religion,” Ayan declared, and before turning to leave she added, “and this is a free country, isn’t it?”
* * *
Hanne Rud had become the principal of Dønski Upper Secondary School the same autumn that Ayan had transferred from Nesbru. She had noticed the IB program pupil around and surmised that Ayan had wanted to change schools because she felt more at home here. Around half of the pupils had an immigrant background, many were Muslim, and a number of them dressed like her—in long skirts with wide capes or ponchos with hoods up. Clothes reflected identity and a common identity meant security. Groups of ethnic Norwegian pupils went around in ripped jeans and plaid shirts, all in muted tones. Hanne’s uniform was skinny jeans and a blazer, and she usually wore heels.
This was her second post as principal. She had held the same position at Nadderud Secondary—the school in Bærum requiring the highest grade
s for admission—before coming back to Dønski, where she had previously taught. While many failed to get accepted at Nadderud, Dønski had plenty of unfilled places. By the application deadline the previous spring, barely four hundred pupils had applied and there was space for over five hundred. But Hanne did not shrink in the face of adversity, and her goal was to make the school more popular. She had applied for the job precisely because it was a school facing challenges. The dropout rate was high, particularly among boys.
She spent a good deal of time in the corridors. She wanted to get to know as many of the students as possible and thought it important they knew who she was, so that they could approach her if something was up.
The presence of several tough-looking groups of girls at the school had not escaped her notice. Many were from a minority background and had a need to assert themselves. It was a good thing, she thought, taking pride in their culture, their religion, and having the courage to express their opinions. They did not shy away from participating in discussions in class and challenging the core values of Norwegian society. That meant they were doing their job right, thought Hanne. Promoting diversity.
She now sat listening to the Norwegian teacher.
“She wore a niqab in class today,” the teacher informed her. “Personally, I don’t think we should allow that. We need to be able to see our pupils.”
“You have my support on that,” Hanne replied.
Sunlight was flooding in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. From where they sat, there was a view over the entrance to the school and the parking lot.
Earlier that school year, Ayan had lodged a written request asking to be excused from taking PE with the rest of the class. She had gotten a form from Hanne and filled it out. The teenage girl had familiarized herself with the Norwegian Directorate for Education and Training’s circular. According to paragraph 3.3 §1–12: “The principal may upon request grant students in secondary education exemption from classes in physical exercise. The student must provide testimony from a doctor documenting that the class is injurious to the student and that adapted instruction is not possible.”
Her request was sent on to lawyers in the county administration. It could take some time, as there were many fundamental questions to clarify. Hanne had informed her of the consequences of high absenteeism. If Ayan did not turn up for gym class, she was risking not receiving a grade in that subject and thereby failing to get a diploma.
Ayan had previously been very active. She used to go jogging in the local park with Ela and Ivana, and she had worked out for free at the Friskis&Svettis fitness center in return for working at the reception desk with Dilal. After numerous complaints were made about her disappearing to pray, her employers warned her she would be let go if it continued. She chose to quit instead.
The problems around physical exercise had begun that same autumn.
Ayan had complained to the PE teacher about not feeling comfortable showering with the other girls. The teacher, a young woman only slightly older than her pupils, offered her the use of her own changing room. She did not mind showering later, she told Ayan. After using the teacher’s facilities once, Ayan said there was another issue: She could not take part in a gym class with boys. When the teacher asked why, she said her religion did not permit it. The teacher suggested this might be something Ayan could control herself—perhaps she could avoid tackling and close contact?
The following week Ayan said that she could not take part if music was played. Then there was the issue of her clothes—she found it strenuous to train in the tunics her religion obliged her to wear.
There were many Muslims in the class, and the young teacher always took this into consideration, checking, for example, which month Ramadan fell on when she set up the annual plan. During that period she saw to it the sessions were at low intensity. The teacher believed that one of the most important goals of the class was to bolster the desire to be active. She certainly did not want Ayan to have cause to abstain from physical activity, so she allowed her to cycle on an exercise bike in long skirts and putter around as she wanted.
Eventually she suggested that Ayan train on her own. Dønski ran a top sports studies program, including cross-country and downhill skiing, hockey, and football, and it housed an up-to-date gym with treadmills, bicycles, exercise machines, and free weights. These facilities were reserved for sports studies pupils, but the school made an exception for Ayan. She was allowed to put together her own training program. It was to focus on strength and endurance, and she was to follow it and record the results.
Ayan drew up a program, but after a few weeks she announced she could not use the gym room after all. Someone might see her while she was there! She could agree to work out there only if she was given a guarantee that nobody would come in while she was training.
“There are three doors into the room,” Ayan complained. “Someone could walk in at any time!”
This was not a simple opposition to physical activity but something deeper, the PE teacher thought. It was obviously new, since Ayan, as opposed to many other Muslim girls she had seen, had excellent motor skills. She must have been very active as a child, the teacher thought.
Ayan then made a suggestion. She said she had some contacts at Friskis&Svettis, having previously worked as a receptionist there. She could ask them to open the gym to her after closing time and the teacher could come and observe her.
Now the teacher was wondering: Was something not quite right with Ayan?
* * *
The day after Ayan’s niqab debut in the classroom, she came to school wearing it and refused to take it off.
Again the Norwegian teacher complained to the principal.
A few days passed. Was it to be on or off?
On February 25, 2013, Hanne Rud received an e-mail.
“Hi, I have begun wearing a niqab, clothing that covers my face apart from my eyes, and I was wondering what the rules were for this in the county. I have searched a little online but have not found anything saying it is not allowed and I wondered if maybe you knew something more about it. Yours sincerely, Ayan, Islam Net.”
Hanne was quick to respond. “In my view it is important we are able to identify our pupils at all times. Therefore I do not want to encourage any form of clothing that makes this difficult.”
Ayan’s reply came in a matter of minutes. “I understand that it might be problematic in class or during tests, but otherwise wearing it on school property should not cause anybody a problem. If someone does want to identify me, then all they have to do is simply take me aside and talk to me.”
The student also requested that the other matter be speeded up. “With regard to PE my taking part in regular sessions with the rest of the class is out of the question. Taking this into account, there must be some way I can be assessed and graded. It would be unreasonable for this to cost me my diploma.”
Hanne offered to forward the pupil’s inquiries about the niqab higher up in the system, to the lawyers at the county government level. “But along with the recommendation that this is not something desirable on our part.”
“That’s fine,” Ayan quickly wrote back. “But in the meantime I’ll wear it in school and take it off in class if a teacher asks me.”
Hanne’s answer came right away. “You are not to do that. You are to follow my interpretation of the regulations until such time as another decision is made.”
Ayan took a couple of minutes to consider the matter. “Then I would like to see these regulations you are interpreting.”
Hanne asked her to look at the school rules, specifically paragraph four. She also wrote that expecting each teacher to ask Ayan to remove an item of clothing would be a needless waste of time. It would lead to unnecessary disruptions. The school’s employees had to be able to identify a pupil without having to take her aside and speak to her.
“I will read the paragraph inshallah. Individual teachers already have to ask pupils to take down their hoods or remove t
heir caps, so why should they not use as much time on me as they do other pupils? I only want to wear it in the corridors and I do not see what difficulty this can cause,” Ayan wrote. Hanne had left for a meeting by this time and wrote a short reply to Ayan’s e-mail just before she left work for the day. “We’re not going to make much headway with this. My instructions remain the same. The county authorities should get back to me before too long, but for the time being you are to act according to my instructions.”
That afternoon Ayan found the school rules and checked out paragraph four. Under the heading “Orderliness and Behavior,” it stated that “pupils are to be punctual, turn up prepared and actively participate in class, schoolwork is to be carried out within the stipulated time, all pupils are to act in a respectful and polite manner, contribute to a work-conducive environment and display regard and respect to fellow students and others. Bad language, violence, offensive or threatening behavior or other breaches of generally accepted norms of behavior are not acceptable, nor are pornographic, racist or other material of an offensive nature permitted at school.”
It made no mention of clothing.
The next morning she copied and pasted the entire text into an e-mail to the principal. “Is this the paragraph you were talking about? Because as far as I can see there is nothing here allowing you to dictate what I can wear as I am neither causing offense to anybody nor exposing them to danger.”
“Your familiarizing yourself with the school rules is commendable,” Hanne replied. “I was referring to the following sentence: ‘Pupils shall follow the directives of the school and its employees.’” She added that she had already got word back from the county director supporting her opinion with regard to the niqab.
Ayan’s reply was swift. “I had taken that sentence into consideration, and the school employees can ask me to take my feet down off a chair or lower my voice, but what business is it of theirs what I wear, when it is not something that has been legally determined. I would like to read the grounds on which the county director based this decision, it cannot merely be based upon your recommendation.”
Two Sisters: A Father, His Daughters, and Their Journey Into the Syrian Jihad Page 17
