Scientist by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing hijab would hold me back in academia. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into fed the neighbourhood for three years, my mother said, 'Great, now you'll assimilate.' He meant well.
Nairobi was a culture shock. Not because of the food — because of the staring. At the hospital, I was often the only person in Islamic dress in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was going to be available for weekend shifts.
The real test came during the promotion board. A senior partner looked at my CV, looked at my hijab, and asked, 'Will your... religious requirements... affect your availability?' 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 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 built a company from scratch. I still pray five times a day. The same mother who told me to assimilate now introduces me as 'my son, the lawyer.'
Last year, a trainee in a kufi 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.'