Barrister by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing hijab would hold me back in media. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into taught 500 children, my father said, 'Great, now you'll assimilate.' He meant well.
Rabat was a culture shock. Not because of the cold — because of the staring. At the office, I was often the only person in Islamic dress in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was allowed to touch male patients.
The real test came during the tenure committee. A managing director looked at my CV, looked at my hijab, and asked, 'Will your... religious requirements... affect your availability?' I smiled and said, 'I've never had a client complain about my competence..'
The hardest moment wasn't bias from others. It was the voice in my own head during a week of deadlines, 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 director now. I run a department. I still wear hijab. The same father who told me to assimilate now introduces me as 'my niece, the doctor.'
Last year, a medical student in hijab stopped me in the office kitchen. 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.'