Hijab under the disco lights

Opinion  |  Fa Abdul
Published:  |  Modified:

COMMENT | My first experience dancing in a nightclub was back in 1993. It was at the Blue Moon, Equatorial Penang. I was 18. And I was still wearing my hijab.

My friend Lynda whom I shared a dorm with at YWCA Penang while I was studying at a private college on the island, was moving to the US and all the girls from the same floor decided to throw her a farewell party.

I remember feeling uncomfortable when everyone agreed to have the party at a nightclub.

"You girls go ahead. I think I shall not join the party," I said.

"Why are you not coming dear?" asked Dorothy, a retired clerk, one of the eldest at YWCA at the time.

"I don’t think I should go to a nightclub. I feel a nightclub would be a wrong place for someone wearing a ‘tudung’ like me," I explained.

"Do you want to come?" asked Catherine, a 50-something senior nurse at a private hospital who lived in one of the single rooms next to my dorm.

“I’d very much like to because I have never been to one. I am just afraid I would be out of place and people would stare…” I said.

“Don’t be silly, Fa! Nobody cares about your 'tudung',” said Dorothy, brushing my shoulders.

I still remember the last hour before we left our dorm for Blue Moon that evening, I was taking extra time putting on my hijab, looking at myself on the mirror, when Lynda stood next to me...

Sign in

Welcome back,

Your subscription expires on

Your subscription will expire soon, kindly renew before

Your subscription is expired
  Click here to renew

You are not subscribed to any subscription package
  Click here to subscribe now

Any questions?
  Email: [email protected]
  Call: +603-777-00000