A viral video about Islamic sex education, and the abuse that followed

I had been posting on Instagram for a while before TikTok. I was very passionate about spreading awareness about things people usually didn't talk about. My topics ranged from environmentalism to menstrual hygiene and other women’s issues. One of the topics that I got a lot of support for was sex education. People regularly reached out to me via DMs, asking for help and resources. I tried my best to point them at reliable and accessible resources, and if nothing else, to offer a sympathetic ear. Occasionally there were anonymous messages criticising my work or accusing me of doing something that is not in line with Islam. That was easy to ignore or answer with grace, because the overwhelming majority of the engagement was positive. It was mainly people validating my work and telling me that what I was doing was actually necessary and very important.

When the engagement started dropping, I suspected it could be due to the rise of TikTok. So I decided to try that platform. My first video was about how well-known child predators are still welcomed into people’s homes. It did not gain traction. The second video, in which I said we need islamic sex education, went viral. I gained thousands of followers in a few days and the comments didn't stop coming. My videos were taken and shared in Viber groups, Twitter and Facebook.

After a few months, I decided to stop my online activism. My primary goal was to get an opportunity in real life and that was not happening. I did not stop because of the hate.

There was a lot of sexual harassment in the comments. Just because I mentioned sex-related topics that does not mean it is fair game to harass me. And naturally there was victim blaming, too.

One category of comments expressed deep hatred for me and what I was doing. I was called names. I was accused of being a promiscuous woman who was looking for male attention. I was called a con woman who begs near a certain mosque. I was accused of committing sexually depraved acts. I was labelled as someone who partakes in drug use and prostitution.

The funniest comment for me personally was the accusation that I was an FBI agent. The second funniest was when someone spam commented on all my videos asking whether I was the woman featured in Nas Daily many years ago who talked about wanting to take her hijab off but couldn't because of societal pressure. To be clear, that was not me.

Another common trend I picked up on was that people were using Islam as a weapon to silence me. They said a woman cannot be posting online, or that a woman cannot be talking about sex online because this was tantamount to talking publicly. A woman's voice is awrah (intimate body parts that must be covered), they contended. I was told people who hear me could be tempted and seduced by my voice.

Many people asked me whether I wore the niqab in real life. I think the idea of an outspoken niqab-wearing woman, especially one who tackled such a taboo subject, was not a concept they could digest. They seemed to think I hid my identity with a makeshift niqab because I was too embarrassed to come online to talk about it. In reality I had been a niqab-wearing woman for many years before that. In fact I openly gave my full name in the comment section to anyone who asked. I shared my work in Linktree and on my Instagram handle where they could easily check to see if I was a real person. My motivation would have been clear. I was nothing but respectful to anybody with questions even when people repeatedly kept wasting my time. Some would approach me dressed in the clothes of a curious person but later reveal their ulterior motive. There were a few threats, too.

At the end of the day, most people took it as a joke.

"There is no such thing as Islamic Sex Education," one person declared. "We can just watch porn and learn," said another. One person said: "when you penetrate, whatever that needs to come out will come out and that's it." Another asked me why I was making videos on TikTok instead of teaching my partner. When I emphasised in a video that first time sex does not have to be painful, I was asked what my qualifications were. People accused me of being a child predator when I emphasised the importance of child abuse prevention. 

For me, all of this very clearly indicated the lack of knowledge when it comes to this topic.

I got a lot of advice from people to close my comment section, to block the people who were bullying me and to make posts with only text. The reason I did not like this advice is because everybody should be able to make content and share it online without the fear of harassment. If anything, the comments were proving the specific areas where we needed to focus on improving our knowledge. I also wanted to take the power back from bullies. If I stopped because of their hate, then they would have won. And they will continue to do that to other women and to anyone with opinions that they don't agree with.

My conclusion from this experience is that we need to be stricter towards trolls. Because trolls are not just trolls. They are real people living amongst us, you and I, in our society where your children and your loved ones live. A person who is capable of writing a hate message or threaten somebody online behind the protection of an anonymous account is not a safe person. When the line between online and real life is getting more and more blurry, calling for violence and spewing hatred is dangerous and it can have real life consequences. We need to urgently teach people to respect others who have differing views. We need to teach people that if you don't understand something, you can ask questions and that there is no shame in it. And that we should develop our critical thinking skills and be open to changing our views when presented with new information. We should always approach from a place of curiosity and not judgment. People should not be scared to voice their opinions no matter how novel or different.

Equally important and urgent is the need for more accessible sex education. With the amount of sexual abuse among children and the amount of sex-related crimes against adults and the amount of people struggling with their sex lives, we really need a better way of helping people. Incidents like mine are a mirror held up against the society where we see attitudes about such topics reflected clearly. The taboo attached to this topic needs to go. Respectful conversations about sex need to be happening in every way and everywhere.

I stand firm on my belief that there is nothing wrong with what I did. I would do it all over again. I take comfort and pride in the fact that I was able to help many people because of my videos. It’s amazing what a little information can do.

Latheefa Adnan is a freelance writer. Her art and poetry are on Instagram at @fiyaa.by.lathyfa.