Every year, based on the lunar calendar, comes the Muslims holy month of fasting and worship: Ramadan.  

Just like Christmas, Ramadan is a pillar of Islam. And yet, despite the gravity it holds for those following the religion, and despite it being one of the largest three religions in America, there is no plethora of movies dedicated to the month. No trendy songs or cartoons. No mainstream media representation or awareness at all. 

Where there are a multitude of songs about a ‘White Christmas’ or Santa coming down the chimney, an entire- and significantly large- community of people is ignored. There is a lack of acknowledgement of something that over 3 million Americans experience each year, though Dunkin’ Donuts has launched special Ramadan hours this year. 

It can be quite sad. Alienating, even. This experience that is universal to those around you seemingly doesn’t exist once you exit your bubble. I grew up with the internalized understanding that it is my duty to educate others on my customs and traditions. 

While everyone knows the significance of Easter, they flounder when it comes to Ramadan. Explaining the basics- no, not even water- and historical significance behind the holy month is an ingrained responsibility now. I don’t expect anyone to know anything, nor am I surprised when they ask me questions that seem like they should be obvious- no, not even water. 

And while it’s not the end of the world to spell out the details of fasting, and answer the same inquiries every day for thirty days, it would still be to pick up a book or turn on a television show made with me in mind. Where the characters look like me and think like me. Where they sound like me and do as I do, feel what I feel.

So you can imagine my delight when I uncovered Aisha Abdel Gawad’s novel Between Two Moons. 

Between Two Moons Book Review

Set in a post-9/11 summer, the book follows the Emams, an Egyptian family living in Brooklyn, focusing on twins Amira and Lina, their brother Sami, their parents, and their surrounding community. 

The novel takes place following the girl’s high school graduation and the surprise return of their brother from prison. Outside of their familial bubble of stress and change, the neighborhood around them is falling victim to the new and rising Islamophobia, with their Muslim community coming under attack from law enforcement’s spontaneous assaults on the various cafes, Mosques, stores, and other establishments. 

The book humanizes Egyptians and Muslims as a whole in a way that has never been done before in a mainstream medium. The intercultural pull Amira and Lina feel growing up in a Western environment while being raised Muslim, and the identity crisis that is born, is something so many can relate to and struggle to pinpoint and articulate. The parents’ desperate hold on their children to try and retain their culture and not lose their kids to outside influences is something I see in my mother all too often.

It’s difficult to find yourself, to know who you are, when you are in the middle of two strong cultures. You are never enough for one, but too much for the other.

Abdel Gawad uses such pivotal experiences, universal to all Arabs and Muslims, and creates a story, not turning our people into another statistic or historical lesson, but finally letting us feel that we are just like everyone else. 

Our people are always demonized, painted out to be a group one should be wary of, to be afraid of. The narratives designed around our existence breed fear in others. They lead the world to believe that Muslims are dangerous, capable of terrible actions. And those terrible actions, in turn, define us as human beings. 

When I read Between Two Moons, I cried. I was finally in the pages in my hands, not trying to find pieces of myself scattered across different stories. I saw myself in Amira’s struggle to find what she wanted out of life. I recognized my heart in Lina’s as she felt the conflict of wanting to fit in and be accepted by her friends and people in her life, while simultaneously trying to do right by her family and upbringing. 

I felt the anxiety of the Emam family as a whole, knowing what the world has been told about you and feeling your entire purpose to be to prove them wrong. 

This Between Two Moons book review might not be what a book review is supposed to be in a traditional sense. But what Aisha Abdel Gawad did was not write a book. She brought me to life. She saw my sisters, born in America and raised on Egyptian traditions, and validated our experiences. The constant misunderstanding and disinterest in learning about our culture, save for the Pyramids and Mummies.

She saw my parents, who came shortly after the 9/11 bombings and faced hate crimes and terrible treatment, and held their hands. She recognized the multitude of Muslims in America, still facing extreme Islamophobic treatment, and gave us something to prove we are humans, that we are real people. That what we endure is true. I learned a great deal about myself through Abdel Gawad’s words. And every year, as Ramadan approaches, I pick up the novel once more and read Between Two Moons. Thank you, Aisha, for seeing us and for bringing us alive. 

Would you read Between Two Moons? Let us know in the comments below!