Surat Terbuka Lauren Booth: Mengapa Saya Memilih Islam

Surat Terbuka Lauren Booth: Mengapa Saya Memilih Islam (1)

SUMBER: Republika

Surat terbuka Lauren Booth yang lengkap dalam bahasa aslinya dapat anda baca disini

REPUBLIKA.CO.ID, LONDON–Belum sebulan menjadi mualaf, ipar mantan perdana menteri Inggris Tony Blair,  Lauren Booth, kembali menjadi bahan berita. Kali ini ia disebut menganut Islam syiah garis keras. Tudingan itu, dilatari perjalanannya ke Iran yang mengantarkannya menjadi Muslim.

Publikasi lain menyebut, ia menjadi Muslim hanya demi mencari popularitas. “Ia ingin diperhatikan,” demikian sebagian orang mengomentari.

Alih-alih menanggapi semua tudingan, ia malah membuat surat terbuka tentang rasa syukurnya menjadi seorang Muslim. Suratnya itu dimuat di harian Daily Mail edisi awal pekan ini. Berikut ini petikannya:

Ditanya mengenai penjelasan singkat tentang bagaimana saya — seorang jurnalis, orang tua  tunggal yang juga wanita karier, bekerja di media Barat — memilih agama ini, saya selalu menjelaskan tentang pengalaman spiritual paling intens di sebuah masjid di Iran sebulan lalu.

Tetapi, hal ini membawa saya menengok ke belakang, pada Januari 2005, ketika saya datang seorang diri ke Tepi Barat untuk meliput pemilu di sana yang nantinya diterbitkan di The Mail edisi Minggu. Asal Anda tahu, sebelum pergi ke sana, saya belum pernah menghabiskan waktu dengan seseorang berdarah Arab, atau seseorang beragama Islam.

Seluruh pengalaman mungkin akan sangat mengejutkan, namun bukan untuk alasan yang mungkin saya harapkan. Sangat banyak informasi yang kita tahu tentang orang-orang yang mengikuti ajaran Nabi Muhammad, walau belakangan saya sadari banyak yang bias.

Intinya, saya tetap terbang ke Timur Tengah, dengan beragam pikiran berkecamuk di kepala saya: ekstremis radikal, kaum fanatik, kawin paksa, bom bunuh diri, dan jihad. Tak banyak brosur perjalanan yang saya bawa.

Pertama menginjakkan kaki, saya datang tanpa mantel, karena otoritas bandara Israel menahan kopor saya. Saat berjalan di Ramallah, saya menggigil, sebelum kemudian seorang wanita tua mencengkeram tangan saya.

Berbicara tak jelas dalam bahasa Arab yang cepat, ia membawa saya masuk ke dalam rumah di sisi jalan. Oh, apakah saya tengah diculik oleh seorang teroris? Saya masih bingung dan bertanya-tanya, ketika ia membuka lemari pakaian dan menarik sebuah mantel, topi, dan scarf.

Saya keluar dari rumah itu dengan mengenakan mantel, topi, dan scaft pemberiannya. Ciuman wanita tua itu mengantarkan kehangatan pada perjalanan saya. Kami tak saling bertukar kata.

Kejadian itu sangat sulit saya lupakan. Dalam wujud yang berbeda, kehangatan yang sama saya dapatkan ratusan kali. Hal yang sungguh tak saya dapatkan dalam apapun yang telah saya baca sebelumnya, atau terlihat di artikel manapun.

Sejak itu, saya setidaknya beberapa kali pergi ke sana selama tiga tahun. Pertama kali saya pergi untuk urusan kerjaan, maka kali lain saya pergi untuk alasan yang berbeda: bergabung dengan relawan pembawa bantuan dan grup pro-Palestina. Saya merasa tertantang oleh kesulitan yang dialami Palestina. Penting untuk diingat, ada umat Kristen di Tanah Suci ini yang telah tinggal selama 2.000 tahun dan bahwa mereka juga menderita di bawah pendudukan ilegal Israel.

Secara bertahap saya menemukan ekspresi seperti ‘Masya Allah!’ dan ‘Alhamdullilah!’ (mirip dengan ‘Haleluya’), dan itu mulai masuk dalam percakapan sehari-hari saya. Ini adalah seruan gembira yang berasal dari 100 nama Tuhan (maksudnya mungkin 99, red), atau Allah.

Dari semula saya selalu gugup bila berada di dekat kelompok Muslim, kini saya malah mencoba untuk mendekati mereka. Sebuah tantangan bisa ada di dekat kaum terpelajar, yang lebih di atas semua itu, adalah sangat ramah dan murah hati.

Sejak itu, saya tak ragu lagi untuk memulai perubahan pemahaman politik, bahwa sesungguhnya warga  Palestina adalah sebuah keluarga yang hangat ketimbang tersangka teror, dan kaum Muslim adalah sebuah komunitas ketimbang serangkaian “Collateral Damage”.

(OK, saya hentikan di sini dulu, karena saya harus shalat selama 10 menit. Sekarang pukul 01.30 PM. Ada lima kali waktu berdoa dalam Islam tiap hari, sepanjang tahun sejak terbit matahari hingga malam hari).

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Surat Terbuka Lauren Booth: Mengapa Saya Memilih Islam (2)

SUMBER: Republika

REPUBLIKA.CO.ID, LONDON–Belum sebulan menjadi mualaf, ipar mantan perdana menteri Inggris Tony Blair,  Lauren Booth, kembali menjadi bahan berita. Kali ini ia disebut menganut Islam syiah garis keras. Tudingan itu, dilatari perjalanannya ke Iran yang mengantarkannya menjadi Muslim.

Publikasi lain menyebut, ia menjadi Muslim hanya demi mencari popularitas. “Ia ingin diperhatikan,” demikian sebagian orang mengomentari.

Alih-alih menanggapi semua tudingan, ia malah membuat surat terbuka tentang rasa syukurnya menjadi seorang Muslim. Suratnya itu dimuat di harian Daily Mail edisi awal pekan ini. Berikut ini bagian dua dari petikan suratnya yang sebelumnya dimuat di Republika Online edisi rabu (3/11):

Bagaimana tentang perjalanan spiritual? Itu tak pernah terjadi pada saya. Meskupun, saya suka berdoa dan sejak kecil sudah mendengar cerita tentang Yesus dan para nabi sebelumnya. Saya dibesarkan dalam keluarga yang sangat sekuler.

Mungkin apresiasi saya atas budaya Islam, terutama pada perempuan Muslim, yang menarik saya untuk mengapresiasi Islam. Perempuan Islam yang saya lihat di Inggris adalah yang menutup seluruh tubuhnya dari kepala hingga ujung kaki, kadang berjalan di belakang suami mereka, dengan anak-anak berbaju panjang di sekitar mereka.

Ini sungguh kontras dengan kondisi wanita profesional Eropa yang umumnya sangat memperhatikan penampilannya. Saya, misalnya, sangat bangga dengan rambut pirang saya, dan ya, belahan dada saya. Ini seolah menjadi “jualan” utama kami.

Saat bekerja di dunia broadcast televisi, betapa hal itu makin jelas terasa: presenter wanita menghabiskan waktu hingga satu jam untuk merias wajah dan penampilan mereka, hanya untuk membahas satu topik “serius” yang memakan waktu tak lebih dari 15 menit. Apakah ini sebagian bentuk liber-ation? Saya mulai bertanya-tanya seberapa banyak penghormatan bagi gadis-gadis dan perempuan dalam masyarakat “bebas” kita.

Pada tahun 2007 saya pergi ke Libanon. Saya menghabiskan waktu empat hari bersama para mahasiswi di sana, sebagian dari mereka mengenakan cadar. Mereka tetap tampak menawan, mandiri, dan bebas berpendapat. Mereka semua bukan gadis yang pemalu, atau mereka akan segera dipaksa untuk menikah, seperti yang sering kita dengar di Barat.

Suatu waktu mereka menemani saya mewawancarai seorang syekh yang disebut-sebut dekat dengan milisi Hizbullah. Saya sangat terkejut ketika melihat bagaimana syekh itu memperlakukan pada gadis yang menemani saya ini. Saat Syekh Nabil  yang mengenakan surban dan jubah cokelat berbicara tentang topik yang “menantang” — tentang pertukaran tawanan — mereka tergelitik untuk angkat bicara. Mereka bebas bertanya dan menyatakan apapun, termasuk angkat tangan untuk menyela sang Syekh yang tengah berbicara.

Ada hal lain yang berubah kemudian dalam diri saya.  Semakin banyak waktu saya habiskan di Timur Tengah, semakin sering saya minta diantar ke masjid. Hanya untuk kepentingan pesiar, begitu saya selalu meyakinkan pada diri saya. Walaupun faktanya, saya mendapatkan lebih dari sekadar “wisata” belaka.

Bebas dari aneka patung dan bangku, saya melihat mereka duduk begitu saja dengan anak-anak bermain di sekitarnya, beberapa memakan bekal mereka, dan wanita tua duduk di atas kursi roda mereka membaca Alquran. Mereka membawa “kehidupan” mereka ke masjid, dan membawa “masjid” ke dalam rumah-rumah mereka.

Dan tibalah suatu malam saat saya mengunjungi kota Qom, di bawah kubah emas yang disebut Fatimah Mesumah (Fatimah Sang Teladan), sama seperti perempuan lainnya di sana, tiba-tiba saya bergumam nama Allah beberapa kali, ketika memegang pagar makam Fatimah.

Ketika saya duduk, sebuah kenikmatan spiritual menyergap saya. Bukan kenikmatan yang seolah mengangkat kita dari tanah, tapi kenikmatan yang memberi kedamaian penuh. Saya duduk di sana untuk waktu yang lama. Seorang wanita muda di samping saya membisikkan, “Suatu keajaiban tengah terjadi pada Anda”.

Ya, seketika saya tahu. Saya bukan lagi “turis dalam Islam”, tapi telah menjadi umat, bagian dari komunitas Muslim, dan terkait dengan seluruh Muslimin.

Untuk pertama kalinya saya merasakan ingin lari dari situasi ini. Ada beberapa alasan; Apakan betul saya telah siap berpindah agama? Apa yang akan ada dalam pikiran teman-teman dan keluarga kalau saya menjadi Muslim? Apakah saya siap untuk mengubah banyak hal dalam perilaku keseharian saya?

Dan yang terjadi kemudian adalah hal yang benar-benar aneh. Saya tidak merasa khawatir tentang hal-hal itu, karena entah bagaimana menjadi seorang Muslim sangat mudah – meskipun masalah yang akan saya hadapi sangat berbeda, tentu saja.

Untuk memulai, Islam menuntut banyak belajar, namun saya ibu dua anak dan bekerja penuh waktu. Anda diharapkan untuk membaca Alquran dari awal hingga akhir, ditambah dengan bertemu imam dan segala macam aturan bagi orang yang sudah tercerahkan. Kebanyakan orang akan menghabiskan berbulan-bulan, bahkan bertahun-tahun sebelum menyatakan keislamannya. Saya bisa melewatinya.

Kini saya menjalin hubungan dengan beberapa masjid di North London, dan saya pergi ke sana setidaknya sekali seminggu. Saya tidak mengkotakkan diri saya apakah saya seorang Syiah atau Sunni. Bagi saya, hanya ada satu Islam dan satu Allah.

Mengadopsi pakaian, harus saya akui, lebih sulit dari yang Anda pikirkan. Menggunakan jilbab artinya saya berubah secara lebih cepat lagi. Dan, saya melakukannya beberapa pekan lalu. Untunglah, cuaca di luar dingin, jadi hanya sedikit orang yang memperhatikan.

Beberapa orang di tempat kerja saya bisa menerima, sebagian lain mencibir, bahkan menganggap palsu konversi keyakinan saya. Tapi sekarang, saya mulai bisa mengabaikan komentar-komentas negatif mereka. Beberapa orang mungkin tak bisa paham tentang perjalanan spiritual, dan berbincang tentang itu justru membuat mereka ketakutan.

Lepas dari semua itu, satu yang menjadi perhatian saya saat ini adalah: saya akan tetap profesional. Beberapa aktivias lama akan tetap saya lakukan. Saya akan tetap menjadi aktivis pro-Palestina, dan tak akan berhenti. Inggris adalah negara yang lebih toleran, setidaknya dibanding Prancis dan Jerman.

Saya beruntung bahwa saya mempunyai hubungan yang kuat dengan orang-orang di sekitar saya. Reaksi dari teman-teman saya yang non-Muslim lebih pada penasaran daripada bermusuhan. “Apakah itu akan mengubahmu?” Mereka bertanya. “Bisakah kita tetap berteman? Bisakah kita pergi minum?”

Jawaban atas dua pertanyaan pertama adalah: ya. Yang terakhir kemungkinan besar adalah, tidak.

Hubungan saya dengan ayah saya mungkin memang tidak bagus, dan susah memintanya memahami konversi keyakinan saya. Saya dan ibu saya memiliki hubungan yang buruk sejak saya menginjak dewasa, namun kami membangun sebuah “jembatan” hubungan dan dia selalu mendukung saya. Ketika saya bilang saya menjadi Muslim, dia menjawab, “Bukan menjadi itu (Muslim). Kudengar tadinya kau menjadi Budha.” Namun kini dia memahami dan menerimanya.

Suatu saat jika harus menikah lagi, saya ingin suami saya seorang Muslim. Jika ditanya apakah anak-anak saya akan menjadi Muslim juga, saya tak bisa menjawabnya. Semua terserah mereka. Anda tak bisa mengubah hati seseorang bukan? (Selesai)

Catatan: Beberapa bagian suratnya kami penggal, tetapi tidak mengurangi arti secara keseluruhan.

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Tulisan lengkap artikel diatas dalam bahasa aslinya

Why I love Islam: Lauren Booth defiantly explains why she is becoming a Muslim

Sumber: Harian Inggris The Daily Mail

By Lauren Booth

It is the most peculiar journey of my life. The carriage is warm and my fellow passengers unexpectedly welcoming. We are progressing ­rapidly and without delay. Rain, snow, rail unions, these things make no difference to the forward rush.

Yet I have no idea how I came to be on board nor, stranger still, quite where the train is heading, apart from this: the destination, wherever it might be, is the most important place I can imagine.

I know this all seems gloriously far-fetched, but really it is how I feel about my conversion, announced last week, to Islam.

Although the means and ­mechanisms that brought me to this point remain mysterious, the decision will determine every aspect of my life to come as firmly as the twin rails beneath that exhilarating express.

Asked for a simple explanation of how I, an English hack journalist, a ­single working mother, signed up to the Western media’s least-favourite religion, I suppose I would point to an intensely spiritual experience in an Iranian mosque just over a month ago.

But it makes more sense to go back to January 2005, when I arrived alone in the West Bank to cover the elections there for The Mail on Sunday. It is safe to say that before that visit I had never spent any time with Arabs, or Muslims.

The whole experience was a shock, but not for the reasons I might have expected. So much of what we know about this part of the world and the people who follow Mohammed the Prophet is based on ­disturbing – some would say biased – news bulletins.

So, as I flew towards the Middle East, my mind was full of the usual 10pm buzz­words: radical extremists, fanatics, forced marriages, suicide bombers and jihad. Not much of a travel brochure.

My very first experience, though, could hardly have been more positive. I had arrived on the West Bank without a coat, as the Israeli airport authorities had kept my suitcase.

Walking around the centre of Ramallah, I was shivering, whereupon an old lady grabbed my hand.

Talking rapidly in Arabic, she took me into a house on a side street. Was I being kidnapped by a rather elderly terrorist? For several confusing minutes I watched her going through her daughter’s wardrobe until she pulled out a coat, a hat and a scarf.

I was then taken back to the street where I had been walking, given a kiss and sent warmly on my way. There had been not a single comprehensible word exchanged between us.

It was an act of generosity I have never forgotten, and one which, in various guises, I have seen repeated a hundred times. Yet this warmth of spirit is so rarely represented in what we read and see in the news.

Over the course of the next three years I made numerous journeys to the occupied lands which were once historic Palestine. At first I went on ­assignments; as time went by, I started travelling in solidarity with charities and pro-Palestinian groups.

I felt challenged by the hardships ­suffered by Palestinians of all creeds. It is important to remember there have been Christians in the Holy Land for 2,000 years and that they too are suffering under Israel’s illegal occupation.

Gradually I found expressions such as ‘Mashallah!’ (a phrase of gratitude meaning ‘God has willed it’) and ‘Al Hamd­illilah!’ (akin to ‘Halle­lujah’) creeping into my everyday speech. These are exclamations of delight derived from the 100 names of God, or Allah. Far from being nervous of Muslim groups, I started looking forward to meeting them. It was an opportunity to be with people of intelligence, wit and, above all else, kindness and generosity.

I’m going to take a break here to pray for ten minutes as it’s 1.30pm. (There are five prayers each day, the times varying throughout the year depending on the rising and setting of the sun.)

I was in no doubt that I had embarked on a change of political understanding, one in which Palestinians became families rather than terror suspects, and Muslim cities communities rather than ‘collateral damage’.

But a religious journey? This would never have occurred to me. Although I have always liked to pray and, since childhood, have enjoyed the stories of Jesus and the more ancient prophets that I had picked up at school and at the Brownies, I was brought up in a very secular household.

It was probably an appreciation of Muslim culture, in partic­ular that of Muslim women, that first drew me towards a broader appreciation of Islam.

How strange Muslim women seem to English eyes, all covered up from head to toe, sometimes walking behind their husbands (although this is far from universally the case), with their children around their long skirts.

By contrast, professional women in Europe are happy to make the most of their appearance. I, for example, have always been proud of my lovely blonde hair and, yes, my cleavage.

It was common working practice to have this on display at all times because so much of what we sell these days has to do with our appearance.

Yet whenever I have been invited to broadcast on television, I have sat watching in wonder as the female presenters spend up to an hour on their hair and make- up, before giving the serious ­topics under discussion less than 15 minutes’ attention. Is this liber­ation? I began to wonder just how much true respect girls and women get in our ‘free’ society.

In 2007 I went to Lebanon. I spent four days with female ­university students, all of whom wore the full hijab: belted shirts over dark trousers or jeans, with no hair on show. They were charming, independent and outspoken company. They were not at all the timid, soon-to-be-forced-into-marriage girls I would have imagined from what we often read in the West.

At one point they accompanied me to interview a sheikh who was also a commander with the Hezbollah militia. I was pleasantly surprised by his attitude to the girls. As Sheikh Nabil, in turban and brown flowing robes, talked intriguingly of a prisoner swap, they started butting in. They felt free to talk over him, to put a hand up for him to pause while they translated.

In fact, the bossiness of Muslim women is something of a joke that rings true in so many homes in the community. You want to see men under the thumb? Look at many Muslim husbands more than other kinds.

Indeed, just yesterday, the Grand Mufti of Bosnia rang me and only half-jokingly introduced himself as ‘my wife’s husband’.

Something else was changing, too. The more time I spent in the Middle East, the more I asked to be taken into mosques. Just for touristy reasons, I told myself. In fact I found them fascinating.

Free of statues and with rugs instead of pews, I saw them rather like a big sitting room where ­children play, women feed their families pitta bread and milk and grandmothers sit and read the Koran in wheelchairs. They take their lives into their place of worship and bring their worship into their homes.

Then came the night in the Iran­ian city of Qom, beneath the golden dome of the shrine of Fatima Mesumah (the revered ‘Learned Lady’). Like the other women pilgrims, I said Allah’s name several times while holding on to the bars of Fatima’s tomb.

When I sat down, a pulse of sheer spiritual joy shot through me. Not the joy that lifts you off the ground, but the joy that gives you complete peace and contentment. I sat for a long time. Young women gathered around me talking of the ‘amazing thing happening to you’.

I knew then I was no longer a tourist in Islam but a traveller inside the Ummah, the community of Islam that links all believers.

At first I wanted the feeling to go, and for several reasons. Was I ready to convert? What on earth would friends and family think? Was I ready to moderate my behaviour in many ways?

And here’s the really strange thing. I needn’t have worried about any of these things, because somehow becoming a Muslim is really easy – although the prac­ticalities are a very different ­matter, of course.

For a start, Islam demands a great deal of study, yet I am mother to two children and work full-time. You are expected to read the Koran from beginning to end, plus the thoughts and findings of imams and all manner of spiritually enlightened people. Most people would spend months, if not years of study before making their declaration.

People ask me how much of the Koran I’ve read, and my answer is that I’ve only covered 100 pages or so to date, and in translation. But before anyone sneers, the verses of the Koran should be read ten lines at a time, and they should be recited, considered and, if possible, committed to memory. It’s not like OK! magazine.

This is a serious text that I am going to know for life. It would help to learn Arabic and I would like to, but that will also take time.

I have a relationship with a ­couple of mosques in North London, and I am hoping to make a routine of going at least once a week. I would never say, by the way, whether I will take a Sunni or a Shia path. For me, there is one Islam and one Allah.

Adopting modest dress, however, is rather less troublesome than you might think. Wearing a headscarf means I’m ready to go out more quickly than before. I was blushing the first time I wore it loosely over my hair just a few weeks ago.

Luckily it was cold outside, so few people paid attention. Going out in the sunshine was more of a challenge, but this is a tolerant country and no one has looked askance so far.

A veil, by the way, is not for me, let alone something more substantial like a burka. I’m making no criticism of women who choose that level of modesty. But Islam has no expectation that I will adopt a more severe form of dress.

Predictably, some areas of the Press have had a field day with my conversion, unleashing a torrent of abuse that is not really aimed at me but a false idea of Islam.

But I have ignored the more negative comments. Some people don’t understand spirituality and any discussion of it makes them frightened. It raises awkward questions about the meaning of their own lives and they lash out.

One of my concerns is professional. It is easy to get pigeonholed, particularly if I continue to wear a headscarf. In fact, based on the experience of other female converts, I’m wondering if I will be treated as though I have lost my mind.

I’ve been political all my life, and that will continue. I’ve been involved in pro-Palestinian activism for a number of years, and don’t expect to stop. Yet Britain is a more tolerant country than, say, France or Germany.

I’m well aware that there are plenty of Muslim women who have great success on television and in the Press, and wear modest but decidedly Western dress.

This is hardly a choice for me, though. I am a newcomer, still getting to grips with the basic tenets. My relationship with Islam is different. I am in no position to say that some bits of my new-found faith suit me and that some bits I’ll ignore.

There is a more profound uncertainty about the future, too. I feel changes going on in me every day – that I’m becoming a different person. I wonder where that will end up. Who will I be?

I am fortunate in that my most important relationships remain strong. The reaction from my non-Muslim friends has been more curious than hostile. ‘Will it change you?’ they ask. ‘Can we still be your friend? Can we go out drinking?’

The answer to the first two of those questions is yes. The last is a big happy no.

As for my mother, I think she is happy if I’m happy. And if, coming from a background of my father’s alcoholism, I’m going to avoid the stuff, then what could be better?

Growing up in an alcoholic household with a dad who was violent, has left a great gap in my life. It is a wound that will never heal and his remarks about me are very hurtful.

We haven’t seen each other for years, so how can he know anything about me or have any valid views about my conversion? I just feel sorry for him. The rest of my family is very supportive.

My mum and I had a difficult relationship when I was growing up, but we have built bridges and she’s a great support to me and the girls.

When I told her I had converted, she did say: ‘Not to those nutters. I thought you said Buddhism!’ But she understand now and accepts it.

And, as it happens, giving up alcohol was a breeze. In fact I can’t imagine tasting alcohol ever again. I simply don’t want to.

This is not the time for me to be thinking about relationships with men, either. I’m recovering from the breakdown of my marriage and am now going through a divorce.

So I’m not looking and am under no pressure to look.

If, when the time came, I did consider remarrying, then, in accordance with my adopted faith, the husband would need to be Muslim.

I’m asked: ‘Will my daughters be Muslim?’ I don’t know, that is up to them. You can’t change someone’s heart. But they’re certainly not hostile and their reaction to my surprising conversion was perhaps the most telling of all.

I sat in the kitchen and called them in. ‘Girls, I have some news for you,’ I began. ‘I am now a Muslim.’ They went into a ­huddle, with the eldest, Alex, saying: ‘We have some questions, we’ll be right back.’

They made a list and returned. Alex cleared her throat. ‘Will you drink alcohol any more?’

Answer: No. The response – a rather worrying ‘Yay!’

‘Will you smoke cigarettes any more?’ Smoking isn’t haram (for­bidden) but it is harmful, so I answered: ‘No.’

Again, this was met with puritanical approval. Their final question, though, took me aback.  ‘Will you have your breasts out in public now you are a Muslim?’

What??

It seems they’d both been embarrassed by my plunging shirts and tops and had cringed on the school run at my pallid cleavage. Perhaps in hindsight I should have cringed as well.

‘Now that I’m Muslim,’ I said, ‘I will never have my breasts out in public again.’

‘We love Islam!’ they cheered and went off to play. And I love Islam too.

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ARTIKEL DAN BERITA TERKAIT

  1. An Open Letter to Israel From: Lauren Booth, UK
  2. Al Quds day letter to Tony Blair from Lauren Booth, in Iran
  3. Why I love Islam: Lauren Booth defiantly explains why she is becoming a Muslim
  4. Tony Blair’s sister-in-law Lauren Booth converts to Islam after a ‘holy experience’ in Iran
  5. Why ARE so many modern British career women converting to Islam?

4 Tanggapan

  1. subhanaAllah, yang telah membalikan hati manusia , AllahuAkbar, semoga umat islam bangsa Indonesia agar menjadi Islam yang sebenar-benarnya, tanpa ada hijab anatara kelompok islam yang lain, hanya satu ISLAM adalah Agamku,

  2. I congratulate on the guidance that God has given to you, hopefully you bravely face the challenges, especially in your environment

    Wassalamu’alaikum

    Muhajir

  3. Subhanallahhhhh………….

  4. seneng bacanya …. ??🙂

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