Professor by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing my faith openly would hold me back in academia. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into housed 200 families, my aunt said, 'Great, now you'll hide your faith.' He meant well.
Accra was a culture shock. Not because of the food — 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 able to attend the Christmas party.
The real test came during the tenure committee. A managing director looked at my CV, looked at my my faith openly, 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 30-hour shift, 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 aunt who told me to hide your faith now introduces me as 'my son, the lawyer.'
Last year, a medical student in hijab stopped me in the campus quad. 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.'