Investment Banker by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing hijab would hold me back in finance. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into taught 500 children, my mother said, 'Great, now you'll shave the beard.' She meant well.
Mogadishu was a culture shock. Not because of the cold — because of the staring. At the law firm, I was often the only visibly Muslim person in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was allowed to touch male patients.
The real test came during residency interviews. A hiring partner looked at my CV, looked at my hijab, and asked, 'Will your... religious requirements... affect your availability?' I smiled and said, 'The same way I handle everything — with excellence..'
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 woman who'd been told she had to choose between faith and ambition. I refused to be evidence for that lie.
I'm a professor now. I teach the next generation. I still pray five times a day. The same mother who told me to shave the beard now introduces me as 'my nephew, the professor.'
Last year, a medical student in hijab stopped me in the campus quad. She said, 'Seeing you here makes me feel like I can do this.' I told her what I wish someone had told me: 'You don't just can. You already are.'