Sarah Lawson departed from Canada almost a year ago and has traveled around South-East Asia ever since. Soon she would return home to start her studies at a prestigious university, but before that, she was now exploring the last country on her list, Indonesia. Sarah heard of its beauty and had longed to see it with her own eyes for many years. At first, she had gone to Bali and seen the touristy beaches and the endless Australian tourists that little them. So she quickly decided to go elsewhere.

Sarah had spent months in various cities across Java, including Jakarta, Surabaya, Bandung, and Yogyakarta, all beautiful places filled with friendly locals and exciting sights. But none could compare to the small city of Solo, where Sarah found herself now. Right now, she was enjoying the heat, so much warmer than her native Canada. She was also showing off a lot more skin than the locals would generally allow, but she knew that being a white girl had Its perks.

Solo itself wasn’t huge, and it didn’t take her long to find the local market. It was a busy place with stalls selling everything from food to clothes, souvenirs, and even cheap electronics. The stalls were spread out over several streets and alleyways, and she walked through them looking for something new to buy. After walking for a while, Sarah came across a stand selling hijabs, which stocked all kinds of different styles and colors. The seller at this stall was an older woman who looked like she was in her fifties or sixties. She wore a black headscarf with a colorful pattern on it and smiled on her face as she showed Sarah what they had available.

“Whether you like any?” Asked the woman in broken English. “We have many good one.”

Sarah faked interest and looked over all the designs that were on sale. She usually would have no Interest In such things, but a pink one caught her eye. She pointed It out to the seller, who smiled sweetly and said, “that is best one, so please take a good look!” She handed the hijab to Sarah, who found herself taking it. The fabric felt soft and smooth against her fingers, and she felt a sudden desire to possess the garment. She didn’t know why but she just had to try it on. She felt this strong desire but was a bit shy and so decided to walk back to the hotel quickly to try It on.

“How much?” Sarah asked the seller.

The old lady gave her a confused look. “What do you mean how much? It’s free.”

Sarah stared at the woman, trying to understand what she meant. Then it hit her. She was offering her a free hijab!

“Thank you,” she said.

“You are welcome, sister”, replied the old woman.

She left the stall feeling elated. She couldn’t believe she got such a beautiful piece of clothing for free. “People are so kind in Indonesia,” she thought to herself as she began traveling back to the hotel. First, she walked, but a feeling of excitement grew, and she found herself running.

 As she ran, she felt the desire to put on the hijab growing and growing. The more excited she became, the faster she ran. Her heart raced as she imagined putting it on and seeing how it looked on her. 

She reached the hotel and entered the lobby before running straight to the elevator and pressing the button. She waited impatiently for the doors to open and stepped inside, tapping her feet impatiently as the elevator pulled up to her floor.

“Come on, hurry up!” Sarah shouted to herself as she waited for the door to open again. As soon as it did, she rushed straight to the hotel room and opened the door, not caring if anyone saw her. Once inside, Sarah quickly locked the door behind her. Next, she turned around to face the mirror, barely making an effort to discard her bag, which she dropped onto the floor. Finally, she went to the mirror, hijab in hand. She held the headdress up to her face and gazed at herself in the reflection.

Her cheeks flushed red as she stared at the scarf, and she felt her body tingle with excitement. She took a deep breath and held it, then slowly let it out, her breathing becoming heavy as she felt her pulse quicken. She placed the hijab on her head and adjusted it, the material slipping smoothly over her hair and down her neck.

Sarah had no idea how she knew what she was doing as this was her first time wearing a hijab; somehow, she knew how to do it, working on a kind of instinct. She wrapped the scarf around her head twice, pulling it tight to ensure it was secure. Then she turned to the mirror and admired her reflection.

The sunlight of the hotel windows illuminated her face, and she was struck by how beautiful she looked. She knew that she looked great, Sarah had always been a confident person, but today she was even more so. She admired herself in the mirror, turning from side to side, admiring her beauty. She smiled at herself in the mirror, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Sarah felt so happy and free while loving the feeling of the hijab on her head. It made her feel special.

“I love it,” she whispered to herself.

She turned away from the mirror and sat down on the bed. Emotions overcame her, and she wanted to be alone, so she closed the curtains and lay down on the bed. She laid there for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of the hijab on her head. Then, she started to feel something flow into her. It felt warm and pleasant as it filled her mind while she lay there. A state of bliss followed as she felt her body relax as the sensation spread through her. She smiled to herself as she started to see the truth.

Sarah started to see that she had been living a life of lies and deceit and that all of her beliefs and convictions were worth nothing. She was lost, without purpose or meaning. But now she knew what to do. She needed to stop lying to herself and start believing in the truth. Finally, Sarah began to see the truth of Islam. She knew it was true and that Islam was the way. Her parents had deceived her, and she had been led astray by people who had told her that Islam was evil and that Muslims were bad people. She was ashamed of what she had done, but now she could do better.

“Islam is the truth,” Sarah whispered to herself as she lay there on the bed.

She felt so much peace and tranquillity. She felt like she was floating above her body as she lay on the bed. She felt the hijab on her head and the feeling of the material against her skin. She felt the weight of the hijab on her head as it rested comfortably. She felt the softness of the material as it covered her head, and she felt the cool air flowing through her hair. She felt her hands resting on her lap as she lay there, and she felt her legs and feet. She was aware of everything around her, and she felt so calm.

Sarah then started to think about her parents and family, wondering if they would be proud of her. She asked how they would react to her wearing a hijab, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes as she thought about them. They were all so brainwashed into thinking that Islam was evil. She realized that she was brainwashed too, but she didn’t feel angry about this but instead just felt guilty. They needed to know the truth, but she was not there to share it with them.

 She had been deceived and used by people who cared only for themselves. She started thinking about her father and his hatred of Muslims. She thought about the things he had said to her, and she remembered how he had encouraged her to speak about Muslims as if they were subhuman animals. She had called them dirty, filthy, evil creatures. Sarah then opened her eyes. She knew what she had to do.

She got up from the bed, fell to her knees, and prayed for the first time in her life. She begged Allah and asked him for forgiveness. She asked him to forgive her for her ignorance and her sins. She prayed for guidance and strength to carry out her new task. She felt her heart fill with joy as she knelt on the carpet and bowed her head to the ground. Sarah finally prayed for forgiveness for her sinful life as a westerner, and she prayed for a fresh start and a chance to learn about and worship Allah truly.

She then had a revelation; she knew what she truly needed. She put her head on the ground and prayed that she could stay In Indonesia forever and live a new, godly life. She begged Allah to answer her prayer, and perhaps he did, or maybe this was a different kind of magic. In either case, Sarah began to transform while she prayed.

It started with her hair. Gone was her curly blonde hair, replaced with long and straight black hair. The hijab hid this first change but did not hide the next one. Her skin rapidly darkened, going from just tanned to positively dark with this new gorgeous brown color spreading over her entire body within moments. Next, her facial features shifted. Her eyes turned brown and developed an Asian shape, while her nose widened considerably. The form of her jaw changed, causing her teeth to redistribute as well. Finally, her lips became fuller and darker. Sarah’s face was no longer that of a white woman. It was now that of a beautiful Indonesian woman. The prayers passionately come from lips that appeared to have been formed in south-east Asia.

However, Sarah’s changes were not finished as she watched in amazement as her whole frame shrunk down. Her height decreased as she became considerably smaller. Soon she was a petite woman, standing just under five feet tall. She still retained her figure and hourglass curves, but now her hips were narrower and her breasts smaller. Her physical changes were finished, but she kept praying. She knew what she needed to be a faithful servant of Allah. She desperately wanted to be separated from her previous decedent Western self.

Changes to her prayers now started. First, her English words began to change into Indonesian ones, while the grammar shifted from English to Indonesian. Then, what was at first prayers in pure English, became about eighty percent English and then only thirty percent English. Finally, there was not a single word of English left as every single part of her prayer came out in Indonesian; soon, not a single word of English was left in her mind at all. As her language changed, so did what was familiar to her. Canada started to feel more and more like a foreign land to her, while Indonesia felt increasingly like home. The sights, the smells, the sounds, the tastes, the feelings, everything about Indonesia became more and more natural to her. She felt as if she had always lived there and had always belonged there.

Sarah’s prayers ended as she stood up from the floor. She looked in the mirror and saw her new young Indonesian face and felt happy. She felt like she was finally home, but there was something else she needed to change. Sarah was not a name that suited her new face at all. She wanted a completely new life and so wanted a completely new life. She needed a new name, and she knew what it should be.

Sarah turned around, walked back to her suitcase, and pulled out a notebook and pen. She sat down on the bed and began to write. Writing a long list of names, each feeling more right than the last, she eventually stopped at the perfect name. Sarah now knew her new name. It was the name of the prophet Muhammad’s daughter, Fatimah. She now knew that she was indeed a servant of Allah. She felt as if she had been given a second chance to live a good life in Indonesia, and she was determined to make the most of it.

Fatimah then looked down at her clothes. She felt ashamed of wearing such unmodest clothing. As a new Muslimah, she would need to wear the proper Islamic dress. She grabbed the bag and rummaged through it, looking for her clothes. She has nothing suitable. She would have to buy new clothes as soon as possible.

***

The markets of Solo were perfect for finding the kind of clothing she needed, many even had areas to change, and so quickly, Fatimah discarded her old clothing and changed into something new, other than the hijab which she kept. She switched into a loose dress that showed nothing of her figure but also opted for a modern green pattern; she didn’t to be completely without style.

While walking around the market, she returned to the stall where she had bought the hijab. The same old woman was there, and she spoke out to Fatimah the moment she saw her.

“Welcome back, sister, the hijab suits you so well, I see.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” Fatimah said, feeling tears suddenly welling up. “Thank you for everything.”

“Oh my dear, don’t thank me, thank Allah,” the woman replied. “You are his servant now, and all of us must help you in any way. You may come here anytime you wish, for anything.”

“I will,” Fatimah said. “Thank you again, and I really appreciate your kindness.”

“Please, do not mention it,” the woman said. “It is our pleasure to serve Allah’s servants.”

Fatimah thanked the woman once more before leaving and heading off into her new life.