Barrister by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing a beard would hold me back in medicine. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into fed the neighbourhood for three years, my uncle said, 'Great, now you'll blend in.' He meant well.
Mogadishu was a culture shock. Not because of the food — because of the staring. At the hospital, I was often the only Muslim in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was able to attend the Christmas party.
The real test came during client pitches. A managing director looked at my CV, looked at my a beard, and asked, 'How will you handle situations that conflict with your beliefs?' I smiled and said, 'My religious requirements are between me and God. My availability is 100%..'
The hardest moment wasn't bias from others. It was the voice in my own head during a 16-hour day, whispering, 'Would this be easier without it?' And the honest answer was: probably.
But I thought about every Muslim man who'd been told he had to choose between faith and ambition. I refused to be evidence for that lie.
I'm a founding CEO now. I published in three journals. I still fast Ramadan. The same uncle who told me to blend in now introduces me as 'my son, the lawyer.'
Last year, a trainee in a kufi stopped me in the hospital corridor. He said, 'Seeing you here makes me feel like I can do this.' I told him what I wish someone had told me: 'You don't just can. You already are.'