Trauma: My long, troubled journey into Islam & leaving it before I became a monster

Trauma: My long, troubled journey into Islam & leaving it before I became a monster

 By William A Harrison

Abusive Childhood

Firstly let me take you back to my childhood, every story has a beginning and my childhood is where my Trauma began.

I grew up in an abusive home with a stepfather who beat me up most of my childhood and a mother who was mentally abusive and on a rare occasion physical.

This showed and in primary school I was either always bullied or always somehow being a disruption to the class so I was sent to a special school called Pisces. This school was specifically for unwell primary school children with physical or mental illnesses.

It was a place of safety and there was only 6 of us to 4 members of staff. However, I still somehow managed to get myself beat up and bullied by one of the boys who went there.

It seems all through my life from when I was a child to now I manage to unintentionally bring violence towards myself, and because of that, most of my life I blamed my step dad’s beating on the fact that I must have brought it on myself.

When I was in year 4, Mrs Allonby was our teacher and we had a support teacher called Mrs Woodruff. Mrs
Woodruff was liked by everyone as she was a very common person not like all the other teachers and every one felt on the same par as her.

One day a group of lads in my class was saying Mrs Woodruff is a bitch, I didn’t know what the word meant and they all found it funny. I said it out loud and got in trouble for it but that’s not where that ends. The lads that were saying it then joined the rest of the class in shaming me for calling her a bitch and threatened violence towards me (even in year 4 at 10 years old or however old we all were).

I didn’t want to go out at break but one of the lads who I had grown up on the same street with Matthew Summers said come out, no one is angry any more and when I did I was jumped by a big group of them and that was when I was sent to Pisces.

That’s just one example of violence in my early childhood that I accidentally brought upon myself.

Continuing on, I had quite a troubled school life in my early years in high school — constantly getting bullied, beaten up and a victim at both home and school. I had no escape. I started self harming and was taken out of high school and placed in a mental health unit and then sent to a school called LEMS (Lancashire Education Medical Service) for the remainder of my school years.

This is where my story truly begins.

After taking so many beatings I could no longer cope with and also other abuse that still to this day I struggle to talk about to anyone other than a mental health nurse, I ran away from home.

I was 14 — nearly 15 — and every time the social services caught me they returned me home until enough was enough and I tried to kill myself.

I was in hospital for a few days and then discharged back home.

When I was going into LEMS I was broken and they could see that. They tried to support me as much as they could but knew all my troubles were at home and I wasn’t going to get better while I was still there.

There were weekly referrals to Social Services and they believed my parents until one day I had taken enough torment I grabbed everything I could carry and ran away for good and avoided the social services for a whole year.

I moved into a flat with a drug addict called Kyle.

On my first day there my iphone went missing and he said someone must have broke in and I’ve always been gullible so I believed him. Even when, over the next few weeks, the rest of my stuff went missing, I still couldn’t see or couldn’t accept that it was him.

I stopped going to LEMS and disengaged from all the services that were trying to help me, and used to survive (at the age of just 16) by going to takeaways near our flat and asking them for their left over donner meat.

The people in the takeaways always thought it was for “our dog.”

I also ended up doing petty shopliftings from places like Greggs, for sausage rolls or sandwiches — whatever was near the door when eventually there was a raid on the house by armed police and they arrested Kyle as he had been wanted on a warrant for a long time.

They told me Kyle would be going to prison and got me back in touch with social workers again.

That same day I was placed into a hostel called the Old Steam Mill. It was a horrible place! Dark, damp and intimidating and the people in it — aged from 16 to 70 — were so intimidating too.

Just like most of my childhood, I tried to befriend the people that intimidated me so that I was not an enemy to them and it seemed to work.

I got really close to a lad called Jordan. He gave me cigs and gave me the first spliff I had ever had in my life. I started enjoying letting him come into my room and eventually he invited me to come and chill with him and with some of his friends on the estate round the corner called Moor Lane.

I was doing what I could to fit in; smoking Canabbis and drinking cider and doing what teens did and then the time passed when we could no longer get into the hostel as there was a curfew. I walked around most of the night with Jordan and his friend, Alex, and then they told me to go and ask a man for the time.

Gullibly, I did it because all we had been doing is walking round all night. But when he pulled out his phone they ran from behind and robbed him in front of me and then I ran away with them, which made me look just as guilty as them.

I was 16, scared and couldn’t get back into my hostel. That is the only reason I stayed with them even after they mugged the man.


About an hour later we was all arrested. This was my first time in trouble and I complied with the police and the police told me to be fully honest in court and that I’ll get in trouble because of being guilty by association but not as much as them two will.

They got social services involved again and put me into a bed and breakfast in Blackburn. Again terrified, alone and in a town I didn’t know, I was a broken boy.

I befriended a lad called Chris. The one person in my life I’ve met who I’m still friends with to this day and who has never wronged me. He offered to let me move into his flat and I did and for a year we lived normally — always gaming, smoking weed and signing on to our benefits.

didn’t have any goals but at that time it was the happiest I had been in my life.

I then met a girl called Frankie who was from Burnley and I got in a relationship with her and Chris got with her sister, Jaid.

It was a horrible relationship and I was even getting cheated on when I was doing my night job at a bar called the Burnley Miners but I accepted things could be worse and put up with it until eventually she left me for someone.

Chris at this point was still with Jaid and I was left alone again.

I was nearly 18 but social services got involved again. They put me into a hostel in Preston called Fox Street which was full of very nasty people. Most of them were heroin addicts and yet again I tried befriending people that I felt threatened by and one of them was a man called Mike.

He gained my trust and always used to come into my room or invite me into his until one day he came into my room to roll a spliff and then sexually assaulted me.

I looked at it as I had brought it upon myself. I didn’t report it to anyone and instead spiralled drastically on drink to the point I was drinking 2 bottles of vodka a day and eventually I was made homeless because they didn’t know what had happened they just saw a lad not paying his service charges, abusing drink and drugs and not engaging with any support.

Homeless Again

So I was homeless again but this time properly.

I spent nights walking all night, nights sleeping in train stations, until I was there that regularly they started recognising and moving me. Then nights in the hospital going in with fake names and saying things like I had chest pains just so I would be kept in and examined, then they started recognising what I was doing and that was no longer an option.

I then somehow managed to get myself a job at a taxi office called Ace Ringway, I worked on the phones as an operator in the day time and in return I was paid £10 and got to stay in the taxi office until the morning so I had shelter food and fags each day, so I was sort of happy again.

Eventually this wasn’t an option any more either as it was only a temporary thing and before long I was back on the streets.

I went into a centre called The Foxton Centre and they put me into a hostel called foundations. But I was still on the downward spiral and before long I was threatened with losing my place there as well.

My only chance was if I went and stuck to a Princes Trust course they would let me stay. So I did and attended for the whole 12 weeks but 6 weeks into it I was caught smoking weed in my hostel room and was made homeless again. For the rest of the 6 weeks of the course I spent the days there and then was homeless (during) the nights. So it was my only respite — especially the constant cups of coffee and snacks.

A worker there — Helen Stanley — was brilliant.

She cared about me so much, brought me food on occasions and tried to get me onto the right path. She got me in touch with mental health teams, a GP, and other services and eventually, by the time my course finished, I found a hostel in Accrington called The Stables.

I spent a few months there but wasn’t engaging with their support and eventually was evicted from there as well. All of this was because I never once engaged with anywhere to get help. I just further spiralled.

It was then I met a homeless man from Blackburn called Andy who knew a hostel I could get into for 9 nights called Night Safe.

Drug addict

I got in there and then got hooked on a legal high called “spice”.

I started begging and shoplifting for it and before long I was well known by the police as a nuisance homeless man and a prolific petty shoplifter and eventually I was banned from the town center.

This forced me to look at life and stop doing the begging and shoplifting and look for a new way to make the money for my drug.

Meanwhile, still homeless, and spending my nights sleeping in a Morrisons car park because it was under ground, or a loading bay that had vents that blasted out warm air. 

But there was a hierarchy between (among) the Blackburn homeless and I was at the bottom and a target to always rob and attack so I rarely went there.

Then, while I was homeless, I met my saving grace, the Angel sent down to save me from what could have been a short-lived life of heroin addiction or worse.

I met a girl called Ella, who I’ve now been together with for 7 years. It was a real fate meeting.

I asked her for a cigarette and that’s how I started talking to her. Then I plucked up the courage to ask her for her number even though I was homeless — and yet she still gave it me. I started seeing her a lot and before long we got in to a relationship and she occasionally tried to sneak me into her Dad’s house to shelter me from the streets for the occasional nights.

Eventually, her brothers started catching me so that wasn’t an option either and I needed a way out.

Converting to Islam

I started window cleaning and before long I was approached by a Muslim man called Imran who recognised I was homeless and started inviting me to do odd jobs for him and giving me quite decent bits of money — even putting me in hotels and things.

So I got to spend nights in hotels with Ella and this felt like luxury.

After 2 weeks of doing jobs for him, his family, neighbours and friends, he started speaking to me about Islam every time I saw him.

I am and always have been quite respectful to everybody when they’re respectful to me so I listened to all the things he had to say, and before long he said to me he can only continue to help me if I convert to Islam: “If you convert, I will get you a house, a job, a phone and some money into your pocket today.”

I seized the opportunity and me and Ella said our Shahadat and converted to Islam.

At first this was just me taking advantage so I could sort out my life. But after a few months of having to go to Mosques and Zikrs and other Islamic events and a few months of being ostracised from English and non muslim people and having my head filled with a lot of radical stuff I ended up believing in Islam.

After a year I was a “devout convert Muslim”.

I was wearing Jubbahs and other Islamic dress and never wore anything Western. I was walking round with daweez round my neck and judging anyone who wasn’t Muslim — even judging other Muslims thinking I was better than them because they was playing the plastic Muslim and I was devout.

I started arguing with people on Facebook even to the extent of glorifying the Lee Rigby Murder and threatening to do it to others.

started arguing daily with EDL (English Defence League), Britain First and their supporters and before long I was getting visits from the police and anti terror police.

When I told my Muslim friend who was also my Imam, he told me to stop using my English name and to start using Yousaf for everything. He moved us to Rochdale and told us to keep our heads down and to not claim any benefits, and if we need anything to ask.

He put us in touch with another group in Rochdale and it was there my radicalisation continued.

From Almost a Monster to Now an Apostate

Before long Channel/Prevent (the police anti terror team) were involved again and knew where I lived and were visiting me daily. It was then that the group in Rochdale planned to take me to get a same-day passport and to go to Turkey with Ella for a holiday.

I was so naive and was going to (do it) but I mentioned it to Prevent who then made me aware of what I was heading into, woke me up and showed me what the people around me were like.

We was moved out of Rochdale back to Blackburn and we converted back to Catholicism.

When I did this I then became (an) Apostate, and was receiving death threats and other malicious communications from all the past people I had met.

Our pictures were circulating on WhatsApp groups and I really felt like I had a target on the back of my head.

For months I was tormented constantly with abuse and threats but eventually it started to die down. Then I started getting police visits and was getting accused of saying things on Facebook until I could prove they were fake profiles set up to look like me and to get me in to trouble.

Even accusations that I was a paedophile started being spread. Literally anything that could turn people against me was starting to be said and I felt like they were trying to take away my integrity so that if I ever spoke out no one would listen.

I started just accepting it as a daily norm until in September I was purposely ran over.

My face was split open, my jaw damaged, I had deglove injuries, soft tissue damage, and had to be in hospital for 5 days while awaiting surgery.

I had to be debrided, etc and since then I’ve not really got out much.

That is my life story.

There’s a lot more that’s happened to me. It’s just that I can’t put some stuff in a chronological order as my memory is bad, so left certain things out.

This is just to try and shed light on WHY I went down the path I did, and HOW the radical Muslim gangs twisted my mind to be against non Muslims.

I would have become a Martyr for Islam back then.

I would have committed such evil atrocities that the world would have seen the real Islam and I’m so glad I left before I did and before my name went down in history as a monster.

It’s far to easy for people to be manipulated and twisted to do things they don’t want to do or don’t truly believe in. But when they actually make you want to do it and believe in it then that is when things have gone too far.

This doesn’t just apply to Muslim gangs trying to radicalise people. This happens nationwide to lots of people like me for drug running, for sexual exploitation. For many nasty reasons people will exploit the vulnerable and I hope my life story can go even a tiny way to getting more support for people like myself before it gets to that stage!

I now live in fear and will live my whole life looking over my shoulder: (In Islam) The penalty for apostasy is death and I’ve had them threats and seen the threats on the WhatsApp groups.

I’ll never rest easy and I want to try and stop this from ever happening to anyone else.

I was at wits end because I was also fighting a notice to quit our accommodation which meant losing a place to live and being back on the streets again. The despair made me look for a way to vent and at first I went on Twitter as a way of causing self-harm.

I thought by opening up about my apostasy it would open me up to the threats again and that might be a way to get heard.

That is when MARIAS reached out to me.

(Ms) Toni (Bugle) who runs MARIAS was there to listen to me and still is whenever I need her.

MARIAS gave me the confidence to speak out because someone non-judgemental was finally listening.

MARIAS goes above and beyond to help and Toni does it out of pure kind heartedness — unlike so many who do it for a pretty penny.

After opening up to MARIAS it gave me a sense of confidence again and because of that I managed to get ourselves a new home which I wouldn’t have had the confidence to do before.

I would advise other converts who are struggling to leave islam to reach out to MARIAS for help and Contact services that can help because you will be out of your depth if you do it alone.

Once you have left and your outlook of Islam has changed then open up about your life as a Muslim and the things you learnt because it could prevent others from converting and running the risk of being radicalised.

It isn’t easy learning to trust when so many have caused you harm and hurt.

But there are people out there who are willing to help — even if its just listening and understanding.

Thank you for reading my experience.


Editor: This article is based on an edited transcription of conversations MARIAS had with William. Every effort has been made to faithfully preserve the language & meaning of the original words.

Canada welcomes back Islamic State Jihadis?

Canada welcomes back Islamic State Jihadis?

By Raheel Raza

There has to be some punishment for those who willingly join ISIS and terrorize innocent people.

Are ISIS jihadis being welcomed back to Canada without consequences?

Nearly 180 Canadians are known to have traveled overseas to join extremist groups says Canadian Minister of Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness Ralph Goodale. About 60 have returned to Canada, according to government figures released in 2016.

Goodale has said that the chance of rehabilitating them is “pretty remote.”

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau seems to disagree, suggesting that these brutal jihadis can be reformed through “reintegration support.”

“We know that actually someone who has engaged and turned away from … hateful ideology can be an extraordinarily powerful voice for preventing radicalization,” the PM said about those who may return to Canada after setting off and joining the ranks of the self-proclaimed Islamic State.

I don’t know if this is naivety or wishful thinking, but it certainly is a cause for concern for many Canadians.

If we are to believe that our justice system that is fair, then these returning fighters should be tried in court for treason and murder. Only once they have undergone due process should there be a discussion about rehabilitating them, if that is all possible. As the saying goes, “If you do the crime, do the time.”

Every country takes criminality very seriously. Are jihadis not a criminals? They have attacked places and people all over the world; they have beheaded, taken sex slaves and perpetuated multiple horrors on fellow citizens. Is this not criminal? Then why a different set of rules for them?

What example will we be setting for other wannabe jihadis if all we do is try and rehabilitate them without putting them through the justice system? There has to be some punishment for those who willingly join ISIS and terrorize innocent people.

However, it is worth noting that instead of having to embark on the task of rehabilitation, the best way to address radicalization is to stop it from ever happening in the first place.

To this end, Clarion Project is initiating training programs on Preventing Violent Extremism (PVE) to stem the tide of radicalization by reaching potential recruits before they come to the end of the conveyor belt where they are fully radicalized.

But with regards to those returning jihadis, I hope that our prime minister can understand how dangerous it is to let murderers loose among masses of citizens.

Reproduced with the kind permission of the author.

Muslim parents tell their kids six year old Christian friend is dirty little Kafir

Muslim parents tell their kids six year old Christian friend is dirty little Kafir

As a 38 year old woman from a small town in Wales, myself or my family have never experienced racism, until last week when my daughter of 6 experienced it for the first time.

It was her birthday and she was excitedly inviting her friends in class to a party and ironically invited 3 of her closest friends in school.

They returned the next day and returned the invitation saying they were not allowed to attend any Christian birthday because they “Muslims“ were clean and my daughter was dirty.

As you can imagine at 6 years old she was confused and upset and I had to console her.

I did bring this to the schools attention but I had no other correspondence and the next week they took the children to a Mosque.

How can we solve the problems at hand if we don’t even respect for the basics of each others cultures.

I actually feel empathy for those three, bright, intelligent girls who’s minds are already being infected by an intolerant ideology, all the future rules they will have to adhere to and the oppression they will suffer, all in the name of Allah.

Joanna Darwin


The Rape of Mary

The Rape of Mary

It’s not easy being a mother.  We’re not given instruction manuals when we give birth to our children.  It’s even more complicated when one or more of your children have mental health complications.  My youngest daughter Mary was diagnosed as having Asperger syndrome at around the age of 12.  Since that first diagnosis, her behaviour has gotten progressively worse and other health specialists say she has bipolar disorder.

Prior to her sixteenth birthday she spent some time in the adolescent unit of a treatment centre which specializes in treating depression, among other things.  She’s a very trusting girl who is not very well aware of when she is in a dangerous or threatening situation.  As a parent, this causes me to lose sleep at night when I think of her being on her own and living in a big city as she has chosen to do.

When she was released from hospital at age 16 she became aggressive and would sometimes verbally attack me. She would sometimes also verbally and physically attack her dad when she decided to visit us.  She didn’t return to the family home, even though I wanted her to, and because of her age the authorities would not allow me to have access to the address of her current residence.  I had wanted to visit her and make sure she was okay and plead with her to come home.

School had also been a troubling time for my daughter.  She never told me outright but she hinted that something sexual had happened to her.  I knew that some Sikhs had been bullying her and I wondered if they’d touched her inappropriately as one of the non-Sikh boys had done.  Years later she would admit to me that she had been sodomized by a variety of Muslim men operating in gangs.  But after that stay in the treatment centre, she moved to a city quite a way away from our home.  A hospital  social worker who wanted to release her to that city, against the hospital doctor’s advice, asked me what I thought was the worst thing that could happen to her on her own in a big city.  I wasn’t aware of rape and grooming gangs at that point and I only feared that she would not have enough to eat, or enough money to pay her rent.

“… there is a lot of Jew-hating being taught and practiced at our universities in the UK.”

My family background is Indian Christian by way of Malaysia, and we also may have a bit of Jewish ancestry in our blood as well.  We settled in the UK when I was 3 years of age.  My religion is very important to me but not so much to my children who sometimes mock me because of my beliefs.  I’ve also often wondered if they’ve gone out of their way to deliberately spite me.  My son, who was raised in an environment that taught him a love for Israel, moved to a university, met and married a Muslim girl in a sharia ceremony and instantly developed a deep loathing for all things Jewish.  He was also taught this hatred of the Jews on his university campus.  From what I understand, there is a lot of Jew-hating being taught and practiced at our universities in the UK.

Mary paid me a visit during a break in her semester one year.  I heard her screaming in her room.

Panicked, I ran upstairs to see what the matter was.  She was asking two Muslim men how they got hold of her number.  She was screaming at them and they had the audacity to tell her that they would report her to the police. One of them sent a sexually explicit picture to her phone. I obtained their numbers, spoke to them on the phone, told them what I thought of them and threatened them.

They laughed.  They didn’t care.

We reported this to our local police. I asked Mary what was going on and she began to fill in parts of a larger picture for me. She told me a Muslim man was sharing her number to other Muslim men.  When Mary told me that story my second-eldest daughter, who was visiting at the same time, told her to pack her bags and she took her back to the city where they were living and studying. My second-eldest daughter said there should be no police involvement as the Muslim men would kill her.

“They took her to a flat after giving  her drugs.”

Mary returned to the city that night.  On her next visit to me  I asked her if the two men had contacted her again.  She said that she had been at an Israeli dance-class and needed a lift home.  She told me that these two Muslim men called her whilst she was struggling to get a lift home from the dance  class and as she was desperate she said they could come and collect her.  Before getting in the car I understand  the two men  removed any and all sharp objects from her.  They took her to a flat after giving  her drugs.

My eldest daughter doesn’t like me and both she and my eldest son wield a very unhealthy and powerful control over Mary’s mind.  I should also point out here that my second-eldest daughter has been diagnosed as having paranoid schizophrenia.  It’s very frustrating for me because all I want to do is protect my children, yet they are all of legal age.  I can’t lock them in the house and care for them against their will, and having mental health problems that are misdiagnosed or being treated with the wrong medication is not helping them either.

“(My daughter) … is the victim of Muslim grooming gangs … (Yet, when) I have alerted (the police, an) officer … called me a racist.”

I feel let down and betrayed and insulted by the institutions that are in place and who are supposed to be safeguarding our children and citizens.  The data protection act was the biggest barrier for me and the one I couldn’t overcome.

When Mary was 16 and released from the institution there was a period of time when I was not allowed to know where she was because it would have been in violation of the data protection act.  She didn’t want to have anything to do with me and therefore no one could release the location of her whereabouts.

The police have also let me down.  On numerous occasions I have alerted them to what has been going on with my daughter – that she is the victim of Muslim grooming gangs.   An officer from the Met threatened to hang up on me, and an officer in my home called me a racist because I mentioned the word Muslim to him.  These men are Muslims.  It’s not for you or I to say they are not.  If they identify as Muslims and claim to be Muslims then they are Muslims.

If they ever go to jail for their crimes they demand halal meals, prayer mats and prayer-rooms as well as imams.  And I also feel let down by the hospitals and doctors who I do not believe have found the correct medication for Mary, although I am very well aware that oftentimes people aren’t taking their medication regularly, if at all, so I can’t fully blame the medical establishment.

I’ve pieced together some more parts of the jigsaw puzzle that is my daughter’s life over the years.  The most harrowing of all was the night of Mary’s initiation into being owned and trafficked by her Muslim master.  She was 16 and newly arrived to the city.  There was a social event going on at the man’s flat.  He locked her in his room and told everyone that she had gone home.  Later, he entered the room when the others had left and he anally raped her while his mother was in her bed in the adjoining room.  How could she not have heard my daughter’s cries?  How could any mother have lain there knowing that a child was being brutalized less than 12 feet away from her?

“Non-Muslim girls are prey and Muslim rapists are their predators.

Rape as a concept doesn’t exist within Islam.”

After that, Mary started to get visits from pizza-delivery men, or else she was sent to kebab shops, and Muslim men from FB would come and take her away in fancy cars.  She was so innocent and naive that she thought all of them were her boyfriends.  They weren’t her friends, let alone her boyfriends.  They were rapists, abusers, and they were making lewd remarks about her online.

Now, her number has been passed around.  Muslims are coming to her flat.  One Muslim came to her flat for a massage but ran off when he saw that my other daughter was there.  These men are taking advantage of my daughter because of her vulnerability and because she is non-Muslim.  Muslim women are kept under wraps.  Many of them, even in the UK, cannot leave the home without a male guardian.  They are kept strict-eye on while our non-Muslim girls enjoy more autonomy of movement, self-expression and dress.

Non-Muslim girls are prey and Muslim rapists are their predators.  Rape as a concept doesn’t exist within Islam.  A woman is a man’s property.  You can’t get raped if you’re owned.  Rape does go on behind closed doors in Muslim households, it’s simply not reported on and it’s not known as rape in the way we Brits understand it to be.

My daughter feels lost to me now.

“The police have been useless …”

She’s hinted at feeling a need to protect me and therefore does not talk about what is going on with herself and these gangs of men.  We have little contact these days and I have exhausted every avenue in order to protect my child and get her the support and help that she needs, both from the police and the medical establishments.  There’s nothing more I can do for her except to share my story and become active in spreading awareness about these gangs.

She’s a grown woman who is living in a different part of the country.  While she might have bipolar disorder, she’s also free to live her life as she sees fit.  I wouldn’t have her sectioned and locked in a room somewhere.   Instead, I will come out of my room and shout out loud on her behalf.

“I will be speaking out publicly …”

The police have been useless and I have told them that instead of complaining internally about them, I will be speaking out publicly for changes to be made to the system that will benefit the British public including the police themselves in relation to their ability to do their jobs to the fullest extent of the  law.

As previously stated, my faith is my foundation and I pray for my daughter daily.


21 yr old Apostate: Without MARIAS I wouldn’t have been given the chance to make something of my life

21 yr old Apostate: Without MARIAS I wouldn’t have been given the chance to make something of my life

21 year old, London-area ex-Muslim (Apostate) Murtada begins a new life thanks to her honesty and courage. And a little help from MARIAS founder, Toni Bugle + MARIAS supporters.

Due to the circumstances at home I had been wanting to leave my family for ages but I didn’t know how I could do that or who could help me.

I was contacted by a fellow ex Muslim from Twitter who told me if I ever needed help in getting away, she would be able to help me through it. Now the ball was in my court.

Was I strong enough to leave everything I had ever known and restart my life alone? I had some serious thinking to do.

Growing up in a Muslim household as a Muslim girl, life was suffocating to say the least. Even though my parents were what you could call moderate Muslims, and I had more freedom than most Muslim girls in my family, it still didn’t feel like I was being allowed to live my life how I wanted to.

I was constantly reminded of the ‘freedoms’ that my dad had allowed me to have that many Muslim girls aren’t allowed. I said “allow” because you belong to your father the moment you’re born, only to be passed onto your husband, as if you’re a piece of property being passed on from man to man.

To the young Muslim Apostate girls and women reading this who are stuck in my situation or even worse: You are not alone.

So it made me think; why are the Muslim girls around the world being treated less than human and pushed around like cattle? The answer is Sharia Law. When you have a barbaric law such as sharia, which its main purpose is to belittle and subjugate women we can’t expect anything else unfortunately.

However by the regressive left and liberals aka the MSM (Mainstream Media) it’s pushed onto us as the most feminist adherent law — as if it’s some sort of feminist Utopia — which couldn’t be further from the truth.

I couldn’t tell anyone that I was wanting to leave because every time I did speak about it with close friends, most of them wouldn’t understand just how dire my life had become. I would be told to constantly think of my family, what it would do to them if I ran away, my siblings, what would the Pakistani Muslim community say? The reputation of my parents would be shattered.

I mean imagine how awful it must look that so and so’s daughter finally decided she was tired of the emotional/physical abuse, the hell she experienced every day and wanted to live life for herself? Because surely instead of focusing on what’s actually wrong with our community — the honour killings, acid attacks, forced marriages — we must focus on the women in our community and make it our mission to destroy their lives as much as we can. After all the woman lover (aka child molester) Mohamad did say it’s acceptable to beat your wife if you feel she’s disrespecting you.

So I decided to make that leap of faith and give it a go. My mental health was deteriorating and I felt I had run out of reasons to be strong and continue life. There’s nothing to look forward to when living in such an environment like that. I was plagued with suicidal thoughts and I nearly gave in a few times, but I was saved just in time by Toni Bugle.

Toni Bugle is the founder of MARIAS which is a non funded organisation (Editor: MARIAS is self-funded and neither receives nor seeks government funding), that helps women who have been victims of (Muslim) rape gangs, domestic abuse and girls of Muslim heritage like me.

These so-called “Dirty Kuffars” … that the Quran (so condemns) … are in fact some of the sweetest, kind-hearted, caring humans I’ve ever come across.

The first conversation with Toni I was pretty nervous but she made me feel at ease straight away. She asked me about my life, my reasons for wanting to leave Islam and why I need to get away from home ASAP. The conversation flowed and I felt at ease opening up to her.

She promised she would try her hardest to find me a place and put messages up on social media. The response was amazing. So many people offered me a spare room, a bed, anything they had. I’ve never been so touched in my life. All these strangers who knew nothing about me were willing to do so much. These so called “Dirty Kuffars”, were the ones who offered me a place to stay, a place to feel safe. These people that the Quran speaks of as having no morals, lacking empathy, selfish individuals are in fact; some of the sweetest, kind-hearted, caring humans I’ve ever come across.

I’ve now found a place somewhere far away from my own home with people that I cannot wait to meet. The moment Toni told me about this arrangement I was over the moon! I finally saw that maybe after all there may be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Without MARIAS I wouldn’t be able to start my life. Without them I wouldn’t have been given the chance to make something of my life. This organisation has done so much to help me.

And finally to any of the young girls and women reading this who are stuck in my situation or even worse: you’re not alone. You don’t need to put up with that kind of treatment.

You deserve freedom.
You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live your life on your own terms

You deserve freedom. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live your life on your own terms without feeling guilty.

You are more than what your family or community thinks of you. You don’t have any obligations to uphold the ‘honour’ of your family. Fuck that honour. Fuck their expectations.

Just know there are people out there who have been through it. I’ve made this huge decision to leave and you can do it to.

I won’t lie. I am scared, apprehensive and excited all at once but I know that with the right support around me I can make it in life.

If it wasn’t for organisations like MARIAS I would still be at home like you, thinking about how on earth do I get myself out of this shit? Not anymore though.

I truly hope that you girls and women will get to live the life you deserve to live.

It will happen; but you’ve got to make that leap.

(Name withheld. See also here.)