It wasn't really a hijab.

I was on my senior year in high school when I was first convinced to wear my hijab. Well, it wasn’t really a hijab. At sixteen, I wasn’t even aware of the concept of “hijab”. At that time, I called it “tundong”.

It was Friday. While my Catholic classmates went to hear their First Friday Mass, the rest of us were gathered at the terrace to hear a lecture on Islam. Our guest speaker was a convert who spoke different languages. He went to the stage, silently browsed the audience and asked, “Who among you here is a Muslim?” We all raised our hands. He said, “I only see two.” He then pointed to the two students who were wearing their hijab.

After the lecture, I asked my parents to buy me a “tundong”. I don’t remember their exact reaction to my abrupt decision of covering my hair, but I do remember my mother buying me two pieces of white veil. I then started wearing my veil in school, though not religiously. 

It wasn’t really a hijab. It was supposed to be a hijab but as I look back, I realized that it wasn’t. It didn’t cover my neck or my chest. It covered my hair but exposed my ears. It was just a mere hair covering, and I only wore it together with my school uniform. I guess the lecture didn’t really rub in. But someone had to start somewhere, right?