I was born in southern Sweden,by somali parents.I lived there until i was almost seven,when we moved to the big city of Gothenburg.
I don't remember much about Växjö.
I don't remember who i thought i was,until one day when i came to school with a beautiful blue velvet scarf that i begged mom to let me have it for days.I was so excited,couldn't sleep the night before.I kept imagining how everybody would praise it and try it on.I looked in the mirror.So beautiful.
But what happened drew a line between who i was the day before and who I became that day.
I was yelled at by the teachers,embarrassed in front of the whole class and kicked out of the classroom.I was so confused,i became mentally numb.I didn't know what to do.I was just six for crying out loud!
I remember running away,to the fence of the school,contemplating jumping over it and run home to the safe arms of mother.But something stopped me.Maybe i was waiting for them to come and tell me it was all a joke.Of course we love it.I waited and waited.At that time i had the blessing of not being aware of time.I thought it was an eternity before the teachers came and walked me back to the class.Without the scarf.I had taken it off.
That was my first defeat and surrender i can recall.I didn't know why mum was wearing it.But i wanted to be just like her.
That day i realised i wasn't like anybody else.I wasn't the typical Swede I used to play outside with.Go to birthday parties with.Eat potatoes and meatballs.No i wasn't.But who was I?
It took 13 years for me to answer it.
I'm a Muslimah