A 14-minute YouTube clip has been blamed for instigating a wave of violence and controversy throughout the Islamic world. The film, “Innocence of Muslims,” has been blamed for the Sept. 11 attack on the American embassy in Libya that claimed the lives of U.S. ambassador Christopher Stevens and three other Americans. Worldwide, over 51 people have been reported killed and dozens more injured as protests turn violent.

New media reports are suggesting the attacks on the U.S. embassy and other violent outbursts were not a spontaneous reaction to a movie, but rather a careful plan carried out by extremist groups like al-Qaeda. However, media depiction of outraged Muslims still proliferates in the press.

Two-and-a-half weeks after the Islamic world erupted in a frenzy of violence and protests, Raqiba Moya stood in the modest kitchen of a simple mosque, busily wiping down counters and preparing a large pot of seasoned beef.

“Excuse the mess, but today is our Holy Day, and I need to get this meal going,” said Moya as she added a liberal amount of pepper to the ground meat.

Moya wore a printed hijab, the traditional head covering worn by Muslim women to signify modesty and morality. She turned down the burner on the stove, instructed me to remove my shoes and gave me a tour. 

The scent of the simmering beef blended with the distinct odor of burning incense, creating an exotic yet comforting aroma that wafted its way through the kitchen and up the narrow staircase of the Islamic Learning Center of Wilmington.

The main room of the mosque is downstairs, bare and devoid of furniture except for a couple bookcases filled with Islamic texts and children’s toys. On the floor, thick masking tape is placed in parallel lines, indicating the place where Muslims stand, shoulder-to-shoulder, foot-to-foot, during Salat, the daily prayers performed up to five times a day. No decoration or ornamentation adorns the walls.

More men attend mosque then women, Moya said, so the men get the entire main room downstairs. The top floor has two rooms, one for the men, should they need more room, and the other for the women, with curtains taking the place of doors.

At the conclusion of our short tour, Moya turned back to her cooking and invited me to return in an hour for the prayer service, or jum’ah.

The call to prayer sounded over a loudspeaker and the women trickled into the small upstairs room. A little boy with black curls bobbing paced around, pulling on purse straps and causing the mischief one expects of a toddler confined to a room and expected to be silent. The ladies settled onto the floor, chatting in low voices, their hijabs creating a rainbow of colors and textures as they adjusted their flowing garments.

They prayed, going through the traditional movements of standing and kneeling.

This tranquil scene contrasted deeply with the media portrayal of the Muslim community.

After the service, I finally had a chance to talk to a few of these women, so mysterious under their hijabs, and gauge their reaction to the violence that sprouted with the release of “Innocence of Muslims.”

The film mocks the Muslim prophet Muhammad, depicting him as a womanizer, pedophile and sadist.

Our discussion of current events transformed into a story about American Muslim women and their struggle with negative media portrayal of their religion.

Muslim women are the face of Islam, they told me. Muslim men blend in with the rest of society, but the women wear their faith. The distinctive religious garments, including mouth-covering veils, hijabs, and layers of skin-concealing fabric, make them stand out.

The first ladies I talked to were Safiya and Raiysa. They had to run to catch the bus, but they offered some insight into the ordeal before they left.

Safiya is a 25-year-old mother with a quick wit. She has seen the controversial YouTube clip. Her first impressions?

“It was funny,” Safiya said, shaking her head. “Low-budget. [The filmmaker] is insulting himself more than me.”

It has been reported that the film cost $5 million to produce, although production quality suggest more modest funds.

Her sister Raiysa, 23, told me she often feels like a protector of the Muslim faith. Raiysa says that the violence occurring at protests of the film “are not justifiable, Islamically.”

The ladies were quick to distinguish the difference between themselves and the protesters in the Middle East. 

“We have freedom of speech,” said Safiya. “Some people don’t understand that.”

“If a Muslim smokes, all of a sudden [people think] all Muslims smoke,” said Raiysa.

People base their conceptions of Islam on a small percentage of the Islamic community, she explained.

Their mother, Kahdijah, joined us. Kahdijah is the proud matriarch of her boisterous and loving blended family with a total of 16 children under her wing. She had no desire to see the film. However, she had kept up with the surrounding news coverage.

“I am appalled by anything that disgraces my religion,” said Kahdijah. “It offends my humanity that they would do that to anybody.”

Aja, her elder daughter, agreed. She only made it six minutes into the clip before she switched it off, disgusted.

“It would be a sin on me just [to continue] watching it,” said Aja. “I deleted my internet history, tried to get it as far away from me as possible.”

Although they had varying degrees of disgust toward the film, all of the women agreed the reaction in the Middle East is extreme.

The film was “a deliberate act to invite people to do stupid things,” said Aja, likening the propagation of the film to yelling “fire!” in a crowded theater.

“There is no excuse for what happened [in Libya],” she said.

Though Khadijah and Aja think some retribution should be brought upon the creators of the film, they both agree the steps being taken in the Middle East are not the right ones.

“Yeah, I think they should be held accountable,” Aja said. “It’s a feeling. I want him to be. I don’t know how. Not like this.”

“You can get angry,” said Aja. “It’s what you do with that anger. What they [the Arab Muslims] need to do is sit down and educate.”

Khadijah agreed.

“If nothing else, knowledge comes out of dialogue,” said Khadijah. “An uneducated person is a dangerous person.”

The women consistently returned to the value of education concerning religion and tolerance.

“A lot of people don’t understand about Islam,” said Aja. “They think it’s ‘them against us.’ No. Muhammad, Alayhi-salam [“Peace be upon him”], his message is for everybody, not just Muslims.”

Ever since 9/11 and even before, the women have had to deal with misconceptions surrounding their faith. People have spat at them, reported them as “suspicious persons” at the bank, and called them terrible names.

Still, they are not bitter. They welcome questions about their faith and community as an opportunity to tell their story, to educate the ignorant, and, most importantly, to shatter the stereotypes broadcast by the media.

It was now well into the afternoon, and we all needed to get home to our families. I left the mosque with an invitation to return and a new respect for the strength and level-headedness of Muslim women.