The birds and the bees
Guest post from Mama Osman Britton
Hi, Anisah's mummy here. What a privilege to be asked to be a guest writer and talk about sex while Anisah is on holiday. As someone born in the sixties to East African Indian Muslim parents this isn't something I thought I'd ever do.
Quick synopsis
My family arrived in the UK in 1965 when I was a year old. My parents left their family in Tanzania in search of a ‘better’ life for their three children. Education and healthcare here were brilliant, but we were alone with no community to support us. Mum adjusted to her new life very slowly but once she got her first job she began to feel settled.
My school years were happy ones, but I was very aware there were very few others like me: Brown, Muslim and with parents who spoke our mother tongue of Kutchi at home and English with an accent outside of the home. I stood out and I needed to do something to belong and be accepted by my peers. I studied hard to be the best in every class and learned how to speak English better than the "natives''. I thought I had cracked it until one day when I was invited over to a friend's home whose mother looked horrified to see me. My friend introduced me as someone who was white but got a tan because of holidays abroad! Needless to say, the mother didn't fall for it and I wasn't allowed in. What a blow to my confidence — I thought I had done everything right to not be othered.
But I wasn't the same as my friends. Culturally, we were miles apart. My parents encouraged us to integrate but only in what they considered safe spaces which basically meant any school event. No sleepovers, no parties, no discos…and definitely no boyfriends. When I would ask why or argue that life wasn’t fair, I would be on the receiving end of my father's signature look and I knew to zip quickly.
How was I ever to learn about healthy relationships, boys, dating, sex?
There was no internet and I hadn’t a clue which books to read at the library. Friends gossiped about what they did (or didn't) do — which always sounded horrific to me — and some song lyrics would hint about what goes on in the bedroom. In Islam, pre and extra marital sex is haram (not permissible). I don't recall when I learned this but I'm almost certain this knowledge played a big part in my choices around sex: I decided that sex for me would only happen after marriage and that a marriage would most likely happen via an introduction by my parents.
When I hit 18, proposals started coming in from my cousins back home in Tanzania. In our culture, cousins can marry cousins and it still happens today. My father, finally, spoke to me about the opposite sex and the sum of it was, 'So and so would like to marry you, what do you think?' My response — 'absolutely not a chance in hell' — put an end to that conversation. Eventually, I summoned some courage to approach Dad and explain that, although I was raised in a fairly traditional household, outside the front door I was considered a strong, independent woman who took no crap from anyone. Would these boys really be happy with a wife like me who would never become attached to a home and a kitchen? My father never brought another proposal to my attention after that. He knew fully well that I would’ve been an absolute handful and a total nightmare. However, I still held my values very close. I had come to an unspoken agreement with my parents about my moral stance. They knew who I was and I had no intention of rebelling. My father's only request was that I find a ‘nice Muslim boy’ — easier said than done when there were literally none in my circle of friends.
The workplace was my social awakening. My parents gave me more space and freedom to go out and explore the world around me. I dated a few boys/men but most were very short lived when they found out about my no sex before marriage stance.
So how easy was it to be so bloody minded about sex?
Really quite difficult, but people who know me will know that once I decide on something, I very rarely budge. I did question my choices and whether my values were still relevant — especially once I hit my twenties — but I always came back to the same decision. So I had to stick to my gut, right?
Of course, temptation came in various guises and I had my heart broken on more than one occasion when potential suitors couldn’t see a way to have a loving relationship without sex. I, on the other hand, saw it as an opportunity to build a strong foundation for a relationship on which we could make important and difficult decisions together in the future. What some people don't realise is that even in a marriage there are times when sex may take a back seat. After I was married, I had numerous miscarriages, for example, and the last thing I felt worthy of was a hug, let alone any other intimacy — I felt I had failed us. Again, after delivering my daughters via cesarean, the only thing I wanted to come remotely close to me was a hungry baby crying for the breast. Sex wasn’t the priority.
Married life
At the age of 24, I married a ‘nice Muslim revert boy' and we’ve just celebrated 35 years together. Sex naturally became part of our love story. It required a lot of conversation, initially. We needed a lot of patience and understanding with each other. I believe it’s very important for both partners to be able to speak openly and safely about their wants and don't wants. It's OK to agree to something and then change your mind if it doesn't feel right down the line. I truly believe in continuing the conversation, even into your 35th year together because our bodies and minds change and develop, so our wants and needs do too.
How do I feel about Anisah starting Brown Bodies?
I remember my response when she initially approached me with her idea on a late night train back from London: ‘Well, that's interesting’. But, in true Anisah style, she pushed me to think about and express my real feelings.
Anisah is the eldest of my three adult daughters. They were raised with more open conversations than I had and were always encouraged to make their own decisions. Under the age of 18, we guided them but once they were over 18, they could absolutely disagree or agree with us. They could put forward a good reason or argument for whatever it was they wanted to do. At 18, I told each of them the same thing:
‘I chose to live my life the way I did partly because of my upbringing and partly because of what felt right to me. This doesn't mean that you need to follow the same path. Your journey can take a different route.’
This newsletter was no different. Obviously, Anisah would have questioned herself a million times before coming to me with her idea, so why wouldn't I support her? So in response to the question, I felt completely confident she was going to do her best to make it a success. I told her how proud I was of her for taking on a challenging subject within our community. But, in true mother style, I did also warn her about the aunties who will always want to have their say!
I love that your mama is a contributor!
This is brilliant and so vulnerable - thank you!