We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir

Habib narrates their memoir in a linear fashion from childhood to the present day. This traditional narrative structure typically privileges the author’s childhood/early life as a sort of “root cause” of everything that follows in subsequent chapters.

Habib’s early childhood in Chapters 1-3 depicts them learning in various ways to stay silent, hide who they are, and remain safe away from the world, which introduces the early stages of the theme Found Family and Finding One’s True Identity. Experience teaches Habib that the world outside of their home is a dangerous place. They learn that people perceived as women ought to be restrained and allow their husbands to strip their identity (10), that remaining modest and keeping their sexual purity is vital for thriving in the world (17-19), that they must keep their curiosity about sex quiet (24), and that their family’s religious identity must also remain a secret (31). Habib learns that being quiet is a virtue in most aspects of their life (30). Staying quiet keeps them safe, inside and under their parents’ protection while maintaining their family’s safety.

As Habib grows older, their relationship with quietness begins to obviously harm and destroy their sense of self. The temporally straightforward structure of the narration frames this relationship with quietness as a root cause of Habib’s hurdles later in life. Habib’s conflicts in later chapters are a struggle between being loud (authentic, taking up space) and quiet (resigned, upholding the status quo).

Habib’s memoir is written for an audience in the anglophone world, which often harbors implicit anti-Islamic biases. Tackling their family’s religious persecution in Pakistan and the violence they faced places Habib in a rhetorical situation where they must explore the situation honestly while also counteracting their audience’s potential unconscious biases toward Islam and the ethnicities of people who tend to practice Islam. Habib balances descriptions of the terror their family experienced in Pakistan with pathos-infused descriptions of the country. Pakistan is simultaneously a place where they faced great violence and a childhood home that cannot be replicated in Canada. Habib effectively humanizes Pakistan by focusing on the sights, touches, tastes, and smells unique to their childhood home, as well as the diversity of people and practices in Pakistan. These sensory memories follow Habib throughout their life, such as when they smell sandalwood incense in Japan (96) or the scent of jasmine oil on Zainab (115).

Habib also shows a variety of human experiences in Pakistan as a means of humanizing the country through pathos. The hijra woman’s public performance, as well as her clear ability to seduce the men around her in public, demonstrates a diversity of people, identities, and ways of being in Pakistan (19-20). Habib’s unique situation as a Pakistani writer with an anglophone audience requires considerations of the audience’s unconscious biases toward their home country, especially as a refugee from religious violence. Habib navigates these concerns with pathos and vivid, descriptive language.

Habib’s experiences as a first-generation immigrant child upend their relationship with their parents in Canada, introducing the theme of Healing Intergenerational Trauma. As a child who was already learning English in Pakistan, Habib is uniquely positioned to have more access to the world in Canada than their parents. The ability to speak English in Pakistan is a sign of access to wealth and power due to the anglophone world’s dominance of global trade and economics (14). Access to English becomes further entrenched in power and the ability to participate in society once in Canada. Paradoxically, Habib has more “power” than their parents within Toronto and consequently feels like they never got to be a child as a result of these new power dynamics and the family’s economic troubles in Canada (39). Habib also feels that they “lost their right to be a child” when their parents began monitoring their every move after the sexual assault (19). Habib later revisits this concept when their therapist teaches them to “re-parent” themself (123) and instructs them to write a letter to their childhood self (138).

Habib’s inability to experience childhood like other children is closely linked to the cycles of intergenerational trauma in their family. Habib cannot feel like a child in Pakistan because of the culture of patriarchy that values their sexual purity over their ability to be free as a child. In Canada, their disconnect with childhood is caused by the socioeconomic conditions of their parents. In both instances, Habib feels robbed of their childhood because of the very same conditions that limited their mother’s understanding of how to protect her child (50-51). Habib’s lack of childhood innocence and the cycles of violence the women in their family faced before them are linked together at the root of their story.