“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” I greeted my Ma’s: Ulrike Schneider and Veronika Hochstetter. I was the head of the Abwehr Department, Islamic Terrorism ‘Richard Peterson.
The women worked as covert investigators for the constitution protection in the Islamlistemilieu. Based on the fact that in a ‘misogynistic’ religious community, women are underestimated and that therefore good camouflage is to use women. “Ms. Schneider, may I ask for her report.”
“Well, as you know, we are mostly in the social sector and there are not the richest sources. All efforts on our part to get a job at Müller Immobilien, have failed so far. So we can only say that the Duisburg community is growing, they will have the other cities in the North Rhine Westphalia soon hung.
“God, those shit politicians, why do I have to fret around with this incompetent AfD Proporz, this cavity-sealed tailor?” I thought and said
“That’s damned mau! We need some success, do you have any idea? “
“The problem is our credibility, we can not help but integrate ourselves more deeply,” said Ms. Hochstetter.
“I think it would be an impertinence to subordinate ourselves even more deeply to this Muhallas!” Protested Schneider.
“Ms. Schneider, we are here to defend the Basic Law against its enemies!” I said, thinking:
“Swallow, you stupid Nazi lamp!”
“Please make me a constructive suggestion, subliminal racism will not get us here, Ms. Schneider.” I said. The tailor swallowed, because she had absolutely no idea. She had bitched well in the right places to make that career. Rarely does one make a career with competence in the administration. She was one such example: promoted by incompetents until she was there where she could do nothing, then blaming others for the AfD mentality.
“Well then! I suggest that we follow Mrs Hochstetter’s suggestion. They have to expand their activities within the community, that is, to become more active in religious matters, which is the only possibility besides the social sector to invade. “The tailors again:” It is not enough to walk around with these headscarves after work. Do you want to put me in a burqa? “
“If need be, yes. You are in the protection of the Constitution, you are an agent, a soldier in enemy territory. I do not have to tell you anything about camouflage. “She was silent and red in the face and the Hochstetter could not resist a small grin.
“Mrs. Hochstetter, your suggestion please!” “Just as you said, that’s my approach too: infiltration of the Madrasa. Officially, we are employed by the tax office. We take a leave of absence for a year and become full-time Muslims. Two hours of social service are not enough. We have to spend the whole day with them, I am thinking specifically of the Koran school. There are always opportunities to exchange views with the community members and to build trust. “
“Very nice, Mrs. Hochstetter, I can deliver that to my superiors. Do you have any suggestions, Mrs Schneider? “No, that sounds very reasonable!” She said sheepishly and cursed inwardly. Mrs. Hochstetter spoke again.
“I talked to the imam there. It is Ibrahim Arslan, known for his spectacular marriage to Anita Müller of the ‘Müller Immobilien’. I asked him without obligation for a flat nearby and he said he saw no problem there, even in the short term he could help there and referred me to Mr. Meiser. We know that the Imam is a Salafist, but neither in his utterances nor actions does he seem to belong to any terrorist groups. “” If you knew! “I thought.
I belonged to the growing group of frustrated professionals in the civil service. The last state election gave me the rest. The new government had re-posted its people in all the relevant posts in the administrations and had dumped the few that were of use to the protection of the constitution through their competence. I already wanted to go into early retirement in order to find a new field of activity outside the parties and administrations. But then I came across Ibrahim Arslan. I immediately realized his potential. This man had a vision and was highly intelligent and most importantly, he hated, as I terrorists. His religious ambitions did not interest me. I just knew, this man will play an important role again and that’s what an agent finds so exciting. That in his Madrasa not everything was kosher, was clear since the case Anita Müller for me. What exactly is it, I wanted to find out with my agents. They were my pauper sacrifices, for the Hochstetter he felt a little sorry, on the tailors sch … me a big pile. “I wish that they go their separate ways, that is: you, Mrs. Schneider, will immediately join Mr. Meiser from the Müller Immobilien, rent an apartment and participate intensively in all mosque activities. While Mrs. Hochstetter is the only connection to us for her. After three weeks we meet again, to exchange ideas. Thank you, ladies and have a nice day. “Straightway I left the conference room.
The three Muslimahs:
Petra, Hanna and Julia sat in the women’s wing of the Madrasa and drank tea. They no longer wore the niqab veils to their regret, but now, like their sisters, wore the three women, the Turkish hijab styles. All the women assured them that they wanted to be niqabis, but they would only cause a stir outside the mosque and that would be the last thing a good Muslimah wanted. The time is not ripe yet, one must still be patient. But the girls were in a good mood. The everyday life was forgotten, her world was the women’s wing. It was, although many women were present, very quiet. Hardly anyone talked and if, then only whispering and short. Otherwise one heard only a humming of the quiet recitation of the Koranverse. Some, like our three girls, knelt silently on their pillows and enjoyed their peace of mind. Even from the kitchen barely a sound, although the food was being prepared. The girls had the Holy Quran in front of them on a low base and read it together. Then a Niqaabi came to them and beckoned to follow them. As they left the women’s wing and saw the first men, they pulled their headscarves down over their faces and bowed their heads. You could only see from the side of her nose tips. At last they reached the Imam’s apartment and entered.
“Ass-Salaam-Alaikum, dear ones, come in and sit down,” the imam said.
“Wal-Alaikum-Salaam.” The girls greeted barely audible. The Niqaabi pointed to a row of pillows, right next to the entrance. The girls and they took a seat there. The imam sat in the armchairs with three teenagers and drank tea. Hanna immediately recognized her and squeaked in fright. “Yes. Hanna or may I call you Kamila? We caught the louts. They are very sorry and they ask your forgiveness. The young men just nodded, then continued to drink tea.
“That’s it, you can go.” They rose and returned to their female wing. Hanna whispered:
“Did you hear what the imam called me? Kamila, the perfect, such a beautiful name! “That the boys who had treated her so badly with the Imam drank tea, she found perfectly fine. Why did she walk half naked through the streets? No, from now on she wanted to be a good Muslimah and show herself only in the protection of the men and neatly dressed in public. Then the muezzin called to prayer. After that came the Niqaabi and picked up Petra. In the lobby, her father and the imam were waiting for her. Father and daughter hugged each other.
“Listen, child! You want to become Muslimah? Why did not you tell me? “
“I did not mean to make you angry. You were so worried. “Her father said:
“If you really want it, I will not stand in your way,” he said. Thankfully, she kissed his hand and touched her forehead. “You may go now, Amber,” he said, laughing softly.Beaming, she went and whispered softly:
“My name is Amber.”
Finally, the Niqaabi came to get Julia. She sat with Julia in the lobby in a reserved area for women and there they waited. Then finally after a felt eternity he came. Roger:
“Ass-Salaam-Alaikum, Samira, my father and I took your mother to Madrasa. There you will look after them. To free her from her alcoholism and soon she will be one of us. “
“What a good and caring man my dearest Roger is. He just takes care of everything. “
“You, Samira, live here with your mother until you graduate and practice your duties as a good Muslimah with your mother.” I and the Niqaabi stood up. I took his hand, kissed her and said:
“Thank you for my new name and how much you help my family. I will learn to become a good Muslimah and maybe, if you wish, a good wife! “, Then I touched his hand with my forehead and hurried back into the protection of the women’s wing.