A Pakistani Ahmadi on why every time her patriotism is questioned, she loves her country more
I belong to the community that has for long been persecuted in the very land it helped found. I belong to the community that loves Pakistan against all odds, even when loving it becomes difficult.
As a school-going girl, I am told not to discuss religion. I am told not to dispute anything said about my community, our patriotism. Little do I understand why, I just agree.
In secondary school, things start making sense. I now know why mom had asked me not to discuss religion. Where others take pride in their identity, I learn to blend in, mouth shut. I don't feel free.
There is a burden on my chest every time I am in my Islamiat class and things are said about my community. I want to shout out and tell them that's not how it is, but all I do is sit there, wondering when I would be able to breathe in the fresh air of a free country.
What if my friend finds out I'm an Ahmadi? Will our friendship remain the same?
The little girl who was once asked not to discuss religion or dispute anything said about her community now stands at crossroads.
Should I tell her? Maybe this way I'll have someone to share the burden with.
I'm finally in college now. The dream to breathe in the fresh air of a free country is still there, the desperation for things to change growing. Today, I'm finally going to tell her. Tell her that I am an Ahmadi and no, I'm not ashamed. Tell her that I am an Ahmadi and no, we're not traitors. Tell her I am an Ahmadi and no, I am not anti-Pakistan.
I tell her.
"Qadiani (a slur used against Ahmadis) ho tum, tumhare sath khana khana haram hay (You are a Qadiani, it is haram to eat with you)."
A bond that stretched over years broke within seconds. It broke for I am an Ahmadi.
The dream to be accepted and embraced as me is slowly fading. I am now a university student. Part of a polarised society that has a lot to divide on, little to converge on. I am an Ahmadi and you'll know how this feels when you've to think twice before trusting. When you prefer a "hi" over a "salam" so that "sentiments" aren't hurt.
You'll know how it feels when knowing your beliefs, you hear your mosque being called a place of worship and all you do is smile.
You will know how it feels when you see wall graffiti that says "Qadianion ka jo yaar hay, ghaddar hay ghaddar hay". You want to get out of your car. Wash it clean. But all you do is walk past it and smile. Smile for you are an Ahmadi.
I am an Ahmadi and every time you question my patriotism, I love my country more. I love it and I believe in it for Muhammad Ali Jinnah, when asked not to allow Ahmadis membership to the All India Muslim League, blatantly refused.
"Ahmadis are Muslims if they say they are Muslims and no one, not even the sovereign legislature, has the right to say otherwise." Every time my faith is shaken, these words from Jinnah revive it.
I am an Ahmadi and while writing this, I thought I'd ask to use a pen name, but no, not anymore.
I refuse to be scared anymore. I refuse to be less of me so that sentiments aren't hurt. I refuse to stay silent until I'm not silenced.
And even after that, I hope this voice never dies. This is my country. Salam's longing, Malala's dreams, Mashal Khan's struggle, Aasia Bibi's hope, Taseer's determination. I am an Ahmadi and this is my Pakistan."
Also read: How Pakistan is erasing Ahmadis from their own lands in the name of Allah