“It feels like 9/11 all over again.” That’s what Natasha Ali, the Muslim spiritual care provider at the University of Manitoba, said about how the war in Gaza is impacting her.
For Ali, and for many Muslims in Manitoba, the underlying message they see in the media is “we are all terrorists, a danger to society,” she said.
In her role providing spiritual care to the 3,000 or so Muslim students at Manitoba’s largest university, Ali meets many who feel the same.
“They are worried about being misinterpreted, that if they post something on social media, they will be seen as supporting Hamas, as supporting terrorism, and then face heavy consequences because of that,” she said.
The result is many Muslim students are worried and anxious and say they don’t feel safe at the university. “They’re struggling with guilt, helplessness, horror, anger. They feel invisible, like their pain doesn’t matter,” said Ali.
Raghad AlKaraki, 21, is one of those students. A Palestinian, she has been in Canada for five years and wears a hijab. “It’s been very, very hard,” she said of this time.
As a social work student, AlKaraki is “learning to speak up for those who are oppressed and experiencing injustice. But I don’t feel I can speak up on campus for those who are facing oppression and injustice in Palestine. The university has not created a safe space for me to talk about it,” she said.
Because she wears a hijab, AlKaraki has been called a terrorist at the university. “I don’t feel safe on campus. I am always checking my surroundings. I used to spend all day at the university. Now I just go to my classes and then go home,” she said.
After Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack on Israel, her parents drove her to school instead of letting her take the bus. Now she takes transit again, but always travels with a companion. “I also make sure I am with someone when I walk on campus,” she said.
Her story sounds familiar to Sheik Ammar Khatib, Director of Education and Religious Affairs for the Manitoba Islamic Association. This is “a very difficult and challenging time for the community,” he said. “Many feel helpless and hopeless, anxious and grieving.”
What makes it harder is many Muslims are worried to talk about the situation with their non-Muslim friends, neighbours and co-workers. “They are afraid of being seen as supporting terrorism,” if they speak up for people in Gaza, he said.
As a religious leader, Khatib encourages people to “put their trust in God, to remain positive, to keep praying.” He also tells them to remember they are called to “make the world a better place” by speaking up for peace and justice, and by never losing hope.
He also encourages them to act in peaceful ways if they participate in protests. “They should never attack others, not in any way,” he said. “We are all brothers and sisters in humanity. We need to support each other.”
Many Canadian faith leaders have said interfaith relations are at an all-time low in the wake of the Oct. 7 attack, Canadian Affairs reported in November.
‘I am speechless’
Izzeddin Hawamda is a teacher and storyteller who grew up in Nablus in the West Bank.
“I am someone who likes to use words to give my story a face. But at a time like this, words escape me as I watch what is happening in Gaza,” he said. “I am speechless.”
While his own family is not in Gaza, Hawamda has many relatives in the West Bank who are living in anxiety. “We need to let people know this conflict isn’t just about numbers,” he said. “It has many faces. Every person impacted has a home, dreams and ambitions.”
A big concern for Hawamda right now is mental health — for his Palestinian friends and himself.
“I am constantly worrying about my family in the West Bank,” he said. “I have friends with family in Gaza and I can’t imagine the anxiety and uncertainty they experience when they are unable to contact them.”
He often feels alone. “I think my acquaintances don’t know what to say to me,” he said. “Only a few have reached out.”
His advice to non-Muslims is to reach out to people they know who are Muslim or Palestinian. “Ask how they are doing. Invite them to tell their story. Let them talk,” he said.
For Hawamda, the only option for how to get through this challenging time is “to have hope, as hard as that is. But it is a hope dipped in suffering.”
Leave a comment