asianamlitfans | A Review of Samra Habib’s We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir (Viking Canada, 2019)

A Review of Samra Habib’s We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir (Viking Canada, 2019)

By Stephen Hong Sohn

It’s sometimes difficult to get a hand on those North of the border publications but AALF made some friends there (thanks to A.M.), and now we’re catching up on some of those offerings. We’re starting with Samra Habib’s We Have Always Been Here: A Queer Muslim Memoir (Viking Canada, 2019), which immediately had me at the subtitle! Here is the official book description: “How do you find yourself when the world tells you that you don't exist? Samra Habib has spent most of her life searching for the safety to be herself. As an Ahmadi Muslim growing up in Pakistan, she faced regular threats from Islamic extremists who believed the small, dynamic sect to be blasphemous. From her parents, she internalized the lesson that revealing her identity could put her in grave danger. When her family came to Canada as refugees, Samra encountered a whole new host of challenges: bullies, racism, the threat of poverty, and an arranged marriage. Backed into a corner, her need for a safe space--in which to grow and nurture her creative, feminist spirit--became dire. The men in her life wanted to police her, the women in her life had only shown her the example of pious obedience, and her body was a problem to be solved. So begins an exploration of faith, art, love, and queer sexuality, a journey that takes her to the far reaches of the globe to uncover a truth that was within her all along. A triumphant memoir of forgiveness and family, both chosen and not, We Have Always Been Here is a rallying cry for anyone who has ever felt out of place and a testament to the power of fearlessly inhabiting one's truest self.”

This memoir is absolutely extraordinary in terms of how it narrates the development of Habib’s activist, feminist, and LGBTQIA political engagements. While she is eventually able to leave a problematic arranged marriage, her next relationship is perhaps equally tendentious, as she tries to figure out how to move forward with her life. She eventually finds a community that includes feminists, queers, artists, and activists, and she cultivates a stronger relationship with her inner sense of purpose and independence. As she comes to terms with her own sexual identity, she also begins to realize that her family, which at first seemed resistant to her exploration of her queerness, is starting to understand and embrace who she is. Perhaps, my favorite revelation in this memoir concerned Habib’s work toward making more visible queer Muslim communities. She at first faces some resistance, as her contacts don’t always want to be the public face of such issues, but Habib (as she has been throughout the memoir) is ultimately relentless. It is this persistence, this desire to continue toward this sense of greater purpose that makes this memoir so inspiring. She eventually does go on to release this photo project, more of which can be read about here:

As a general note, the field of queer Asian North American literature at large is so much the better for this publication, as there remains much more to be explored for queer South Asian and queer Muslim American communities. The ending sequence of the memoir, which delve into Habib’s return to the faith, is exceptionally crucial simply as a mode by which to understand how religion and queerness, spirituality and sexuality, might find a place in one’s life.

Buy the Book Here:

Review Author: Stephen Hong Sohn
Review Editor: Leslie J. Fernandez

If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Leslie J. Fernandez, PhD Student in English, at lfern010@ucr.edu