Scientist by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing a beard would hold me back in law. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into built something beautiful from nothing, my mother said, 'Great, now you'll assimilate.' He meant well.
Kampala was a culture shock. Not because of the weather — because of the staring. At the office, I was often the only hijabi 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 a beard, and asked, 'Don't you think clients might be... uncomfortable?' 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 back-to-back client meetings, 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 founding CEO now. I built a company from scratch. I still keep my beard. The same mother who told me to assimilate now introduces me as 'my daughter, the engineer.'
Last year, a trainee in a kufi 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.'