It’s not the silence of oppression, as the pundits on television would have you believe. It’s the silence of being a walking contradiction. I am the girl who sips a caramel macchiato while discussing Tafsir. I am the woman who can negotiate a six-figure contract in a blazer, yet soften her voice when an elder enters the room.
I am keeping both. Because under this lipstick, my voice is loud. And under this burkha, my heart is free. What are the layers you wear that the world doesn't see? Let me know in the comments below. burkha under my lipstick
The hardest part isn't wearing both. The hardest part is the smudge. It’s not the silence of oppression, as the
Most people assume that wearing a burkha means you have lost your identity. They look at a covered woman and see a blank space, a ghost, a victim. But they don't see the rebellion. I am the woman who can negotiate a