A MUSLIM WOMAN EXPOSE MUSLIMS AFTER CONVERTING TO CHRISTIAN/FAITH-TESTIMONY

I stand before you today to share a story of suffering, but also a story of hope and salvation. It's a story that may seem unimaginable, but it's my truth. This is my journey from oppression to freedom, from darkness to light.

Growing up, I didn't know that life could be any different. My world was one of strict rules and expectations. And as a girl, I was bound by them more than anyone.

My family, deeply rooted in our faith, believed that our lives revolved around one truth, Islam. It wasn't just a religion for us. It was everything.

It shaped the way we dressed, the way we spoke, even the way we breathed. Every action, every decision was made with our faith in mind. The walls of our house, though made of stone, felt even thicker because they were surrounded by unspoken traditions, rules, and beliefs.

And for me as a woman, those walls were even harder to break. My father was a man who held on to the customs of our ancestors with an iron fist. My mother, her voice barely heard, was bound to the traditions that she had been raised in.

She didn't have the power to make her own decisions. She did what she was told day in and day out. My brothers, they were treated differently.

They had their own freedom to choose, to go to school, to explore life. But I, as a girl, had no such luxury. My future wasn't mine to decide.

It was already planned for me. My life, in many ways, was a cage, but I didn't know it then. I thought it was normal.

It was all I knew, and the weight of it was heavy, but I carried it because I had no other choice. As I grew older, the weight only got worse until it felt suffocating. But there was no escape.

Not for me, not for anyone like me. I was just a girl in a world where girls didn't matter. I was told that this was my duty.

I was told to submit, to obey, to serve, to never ask questions. But something began to stir within me, a longing for something more, something I couldn't quite name. It wasn't a rebellion, but a silent cry in my heart.

And little did I know that cry would soon become my lifeline. Before we continue with this faith testimony, please do us as favor by subscribing and turning on your notification button. Growing up, I watched my father dominate my mother.

He was a man who believed his word was law and her existence revolved around pleasing him. He controlled every aspect of her life. From what she wore to who she could talk to to when she could leave the house, everything was dictated by him.

It didn't matter if she had her own thoughts, her own feelings. Her voice was silenced. Her worth, as he saw it, was reduced to being a servant to his will.

She wasn't allowed to have a life outside of him. I remember seeing her eyes. There was always a sadness in them.

She never had a chance to laugh freely, to speak her mind. And as I grew older, I began to realize that this was the reality for all women in our world. Women were seen as nothing more than possessions, placed on a shelf for men to control and use.

I was just a child, but I could already see the pattern. The way men were revered, respected, and given the power to make all the decisions. Women, we were meant to stay in the background, to be quiet, to obey.

It wasn't just a rule. It was a belief ingrained so deeply that no one questioned it. I would see my brothers and it was different for them.

They could go out. They could dream. They could study.

They could make choices. But I I was confined to the walls of the house. Made to feel like I was born only to serve.

There was no room for me to grow, to explore who I was, what I wanted. No one asked for my opinion. No one cared.

At the age of 15, my father told me I was going to marry a man who was almost twice my age. I didn't know him. I had never spoken to him.

And yet, it didn't matter. In our culture, I had no say in the matter. My life wasn't my own.

My father decided it for me, and I was expected to accept it without question, to submit to it as though it were my duty. I remember the shock that hit me when he told me. It felt like the world came crashing down on me.

I was just a child. How could I be expected to marry someone so much older than me, a man I didn't know, a man I didn't love? I tried to speak up.

I tried to plead, but my voice wasn't heard. It was drowned out by the authority of my father, by the overwhelming sense that this was the way things were supposed to be. My dreams silenced, my voice silenced, my desires, they were irrelevant.

I cried every night alone in my room, wishing that someone would hear me, that someone would understand. But I was told that this was my duty, my role. I had no choice.

I had to obey. I had to submit. This wasn't just a marriage.

This was a life sentence. A life where I had no freedom, no choices, no future. I was trapped in a system that had no compassion, no room for anything other than compliance.

Women had no rights in this world. We were merely tools meant to serve and be controlled. And then there was my sister, my older sister, my only sister.

She too was forced into a marriage. At the age of 14, she was married to an imam. She was a child just as I was.

Yet in our culture, she was treated as if she were no more than a grown woman. Her future wasn't hers to decide. I watched her enter that marriage, and I could see the fear in her eyes.

I could see the pain in her heart. She was just a child, but she was treated like a commodity, like someone whose worth was based on who she belonged to. Watching her go through that, seeing her being forced into a life she hadn't chosen, it broke me.

I couldn't protect her. I couldn't stop it. And in those moments, I felt completely helpless.

It felt like we were trapped. Not just her, but me, too. Trapped in a world where we had no power, no control.

Where our lives were already written out for us, and we were nothing more than pawns in someone else's game. It tore my heart apart to watch her, to know that I too would soon face the same fate. It made me feel like there was no way out, no way to escape, no hope for a future where we could have choices, where we could have freedom, where we could live as we were meant to.

It felt like the walls were closing in, and there was no escape for either of us. The day my father told me that I was going to marry the man they had chosen for me. It felt like everything I had known was crashing down.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I knew what that life would be like. I knew that the man they had chosen for me would own me, body and soul.

And I couldn't bear it. The thought of living a life trapped in that marriage with no voice, no future, crushed me completely. But as I looked into my mother's eyes, I saw something I had never noticed before.

Fear. She knew what was coming. She had been through it herself, and she knew that I was about to suffer the same fate.

My mother, who had been silenced for so long, who had spent her life in submission to my father, saw the fear in my eyes. She understood my pain, my helplessness. And one night, when the weight of it all seemed too much to bear, she whispered to me in the dark.

She told me to run. She didn't say it like it was an option. She didn't say it like it was just a suggestion.

She said it with urgency, with a conviction I had never seen in her before. You deserve better, she told me. You don't have to live like this.

You are not meant to be his property. Run. Go.

It was a pivotal moment, one that changed everything. For the first time, my mother became the person who was giving me the chance to escape. Not just for me, but for both of us.

She knew that if I stayed, I would lose myself, just as she had. She knew that I'd never be able to break free if I married that man. And in that moment, despite the fear that gripped her, she made the most courageous decision of her life.

She risked everything for me. her safety, her place in our family, her future. She knew that helping me escape was the only chance I had at a life where I could be free.

That night, my mother secretly packed a bag for me. She told me not to say goodbye to anyone, not to alert my father or brothers. The fear in her eyes mirrored the fear in mine, but there was also a glimmer of hope, a hope that I could find a way out, a way to live a life that wasn't decided by the men in our family.

I ran away with nothing but the clothes on my back. No money, no plan, no idea where I would go. I had nowhere to turn, no one to trust.

But my mother's courage, her love kept me moving. Every step I took, I was filled with terror, terrified of being caught, terrified of what my father would do, terrified of the world I was stepping into alone. But I knew that staying was not an option.

I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't live the life they had set for me. The road ahead was uncertain, filled with fear and confusion.

But for the first time in my life, I was making my own choice. I was choosing freedom. And no matter how difficult the journey would be, I knew I couldn't go back.

The only way forward was into the unknown. But I had to take that leap. I had to trust that my mother's bravery had given me a chance to live a life that was mine to own.

When I ran away from home, I had no idea where to go or what to do. I was lost in the world, scared and alone with nowhere to turn. I ended up in a shelter, a place that was supposed to offer safety, but felt foreign to me.

It was there, in that uncertain place, that I met someone who would change my life forever. Her name was Sarah, and she was different from anyone I had ever met. She had this quiet strength about her.

this peace that seemed to radiate from her. She didn't ask me about my past or make me feel like an outsider. Instead, she simply welcomed me, listened to me, and showed me kindness in a way that I had never known.

One evening, as we sat together, Sarah spoke to me about Jesus. She talked about his love, his forgiveness, his peace. And at first, I didn't understand.

How could I? My world had always been defined by fear, by control, by the oppressive forces that dictated every aspect of my life. The idea of a man who would love me unconditionally seemed impossible.

But there was something about Sarah. There was something about the way she spoke, the way she lived. There was a peace in her, a freedom that I had never seen before.

And it made me wonder if what she said about Jesus could be real. I didn't understand it, but I felt something stir inside me. I wanted that peace.

I wanted that love. Soon after meeting Sarah, I was taken in by a Christian family, a family that welcomed me with open arms. They didn't see me as a stranger or a burden.

They saw me as someone in need of care, someone deserving of love. They treated me like one of their own, like a daughter. They didn't ask about my past.

They only showed me a future, a life full of hope. This family, this beautiful family, introduced me to the love of Jesus. I had never known love like this.

Love that wasn't earned, that wasn't conditional, but was freely given. Their faith, their kindness, their joy, it was all rooted in Jesus. It was a faith that was different from everything I had ever known.

A love that didn't ask for anything in return. Slowly, I began to learn more about Jesus and what he had done for me. I began to understand that this love wasn't about what I could give, but about who I was in his eyes.

It was a love that set me free, a love that didn't want to control me, but to heal me. As I began to understand the teachings of Christ, something started to change inside of me. For the first time in my life, I began to feel seen, truly seen.

I learned that I was loved not for my obedience, not for my sacrifices, not for my ability to serve. I was loved for who I was, for the person I was created to be. I didn't have to be perfect.

I didn't have to live up to the expectations that had been placed upon me. In Jesus, I found a love that wasn't conditional, that didn't demand anything from me except to accept it. Jesus showed me that my worth was not defined by what others thought of me, but by what he thought of me.

And for the first time in my life, I began to see myself differently. I was no longer just a victim of my past, no longer just a girl trapped by the expectations of others. I was a beloved child of God, created for a purpose.

I wasn't defined by the trauma, by the scars, or by the brokenness that had shaped me. Those things didn't hold power over me anymore. I was free.

Through prayer, through faith, and through my acceptance of Christ into my heart, I began to heal. The wounds I had carried for so long began to close. The pain, the shame, the feeling of being worthless.

It all started to fade away, replaced by a sense of peace and a knowing that I was loved. I began to rebuild, not based on who others said I was, but on who God said I was. I found freedom in Jesus.

I found healing. And for the first time in my life, I was truly deeply at peace. As I stand here today sharing my story with you, I want every woman in this room, every person who feels trapped, who feels like they are not enough, to know that there is hope.

I want you to know that you are more than what the world says you are. You are more than the labels that others have placed upon you. You are not defined by your past, your circumstances, or the abuse you may have suffered.

You are loved. You are worthy and you can be free. When I was in the darkest places of my life, I felt like there was no way out.

I felt like I was nothing, like I had no purpose, like I was destined to live in the shadows of others. But I am here to tell you today that no matter where you come from, no matter what you've been through, Jesus offers a way out. He offers a hope that never fades, a love that never fails, and a freedom that no one can take from you.

My story isn't just mine. It's for every woman who feels like her voice is silenced. For every person who has been told that they are worthless.

For every soul who feels like there is no hope. If you feel like you are trapped, if you feel like there's no way out, know this. There is a way.

His name is Jesus. If my story has touched your heart, if you feel a stir in your spirit, I invite you to seek Jesus. He is the way, the truth, and the life.

He offers a love that will never fail. A freedom that cannot be taken away. No matter where you've been or what you've done, he is waiting with open arms.

All you have to do is take that first step toward him. He will walk with you, heal you, and restore you. Today, if you want to know more about him, if you want to make him the center of your life, I invite you to open your heart to him.

His love is all-encompassing, and his freedom is unshakable. You are worthy of that love. You are deserving of that freedom.

Don't let your past define you. Let Jesus redefine your future. Thank you so much for allowing me to share my story with you today.

It is my deepest prayer that each of you finds the same peace, hope, and freedom that I found in Jesus. His love has transformed my life in ways I never thought possible, and I believe he can do the same for you. If my story has resonated with you, I encourage you to subscribe, like, and share this message with others who may need to hear it.

Please feel free to comment below and share your own journey. We are all on a path to healing and together we can support and encourage one another. Thank you again for being here.

May you find peace and freedom in Christ.