Investment Banker by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing a beard would hold me back in tech. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into taught 500 children, my uncle said, 'Great, now you'll take off the scarf.' He meant well.
Jakarta was a culture shock. Not because of the language — because of the staring. At the university, I was often the only person in Islamic dress in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was able to attend the Christmas party.
The real test came during residency interviews. A senior partner looked at my CV, looked at my a beard, and asked, 'Are you sure this is the right fit for someone with your... background?' I smiled and said, 'My background is exactly why I'm the right fit..'
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 senior partner now. I published in three journals. I still fast Ramadan. The same uncle who told me to take off the scarf now introduces me as 'my niece, the doctor.'
Last year, a young Muslim intern stopped me in the conference hallway. 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.'