The Unspoken

Tag: allah

  • We Were Taught Our Blood Is Dirty

    We were raised as Muslim women to believe that our bodies betray us once a month.

    That when blood comes, purity leaves.

    From a young age, we learned that our periods were not just biological, they were moral. Spiritual. Shameful. As Muslim girls in the Middle East, we were told our periods were ‘najasa’: impure, filthy, tainted. Not metaphorically. Literally.

    Muslim men taught us this.
    Muslim men interpreted it.
    Muslim men enforced it.
    And Muslim men benefited from it.

    We were told our blood could taint an ocean if we entered it.
    That if we showered while bleeding, we polluted the bathtub.
    That the water itself became unclean because it touched us.

    We were told that after bathing, we had to recite Qur’an versus to “clean” the space, because our bodies alone were not enough. Because water was not enough. Because we were not enough.

    While bleeding, Muslim women were told we could not fast.
    We could not pray.
    We could not touch the Qur’an.
    We could not enter a mosque……. and the list goes on…

    We were excluded from worship, from spiritual life, from God, not because we chose to be, not because we were ill, but because Muslim men declared us unclean.

    A Muslim man could not come near us.
    Not touch us.
    Not pray beside us.

    Not because we were sick, but because Muslim men decided our bodies were a problem.

    Our natural cycle was treated as contamination. Our bodies, once described as sacred creations of God, became hazards once a month. And we absorbed this quietly. We learned to whisper about blood. To hide pads like contraband. To apologise for something we did not choose.

    We were told this was Allah’s will.
    That Allah decreed Muslim women impure once a month.

    But this is where I stopped believing.

    Because I do not believe God exists.
    What I see is Muslim men creating rules and invoking God’s name to legitimise control.

    And before this is dismissed as “culture, not Islam,” let me be clear: culture does not invent theology, Muslim men do. When rules about impurity are written, interpreted, taught, enforced, and protected almost entirely by Muslim men, and when those rules consistently burden women and privilege men, they are not accidents. They are design.

    I believe the Qur’an itself was authored by Muslim men to regulate obedience, behaviour, and power, especially over women’s bodies. What was framed as divine command functioned as social control. What was called purity operated as hierarchy.

    And so I began to ask questions.

    If Muslim women are ‘nijseen’ (impure) because of menstruation, then what does that say about the one who created menstruation?
    If our blood makes us filthy, why were we designed to bleed?
    If our bodies become spiritually polluted, why were they made this way at all?

    Is Allah so cruel that “he” creates women only to shame them monthly?
    Or is this exactly what happens when Muslim men write God in their own image?

    Because this belief does not feel divine.
    It feels constructed.
    It feels strategic.
    It feels human.

    It feels like fear.

    Fear of Muslim women’s bodies.
    Fear of Muslim women’s autonomy.
    Fear of anything Muslim men cannot control.

    Islam, as it was taught to us by Muslim men, did not help Muslim women understand our bodies, it trained us to distrust them. To see ourselves as impure by default. To believe holiness lived everywhere except inside us.

    I was born Muslim.
    I was raised Muslim.
    I memorised. I obeyed. I internalised.

    But I am not Muslim now, because I questioned.
    And once you question who benefits, the entire structure collapses.

    No just God would design Muslim women to be impure.
    No merciful God would exile Muslim women from worship for functioning as created.
    No truth worthy of reverence would require Muslim women to disappear once a month to preserve male authority.

    Our periods are not impure.
    Our blood is not shameful.
    Our bodies are not a mistake.

    What is impure is a system built by Muslim men on women’s silence.
    What is filthy is turning biology into obedience.
    What is truly najasa is a religious structure that makes Muslim women feel unworthy of God for being alive in their bodies.

    I refuse that inheritance.

    My body is not tainted.
    My blood is not a curse.
    And no God worthy of reverence would ever need Muslim men to make women feel dirty in His name.

  • The Cult of Control: Rethinking Islam

    I want to be clear: I am not writing this as a person who hates faith. I’m spiritual, not a believer in organised religion, but I deeply respect those who find meaning and comfort in it. Still, when religion, Islam in particular; becomes the tool through which women’s voices are silenced and their lives controlled, then I have no choice but to confront it. I didn’t come here to dismantle anyone’s faith, I came to question the systems that have used that faith to justify inequality. And to do that, I have to go through Islam itself.

    Most Muslims are taught from childhood that the Quran was revealed by God, delivered through the angel Jibreel to Prophet Muhammad, and preserved word for word without human interference. It is the foundation of faith, the source of law, and the unquestionable truth. To doubt it is to risk not only your faith but also your place in your family, your community, and even your safety. Yet here I am, daring to ask the questions most would silence before they even reach their own lips.

    While most Muslims believe the Quran is divine, I believe it was written by a man, or at the very least, shaped by human hands, politics, and culture. And that man, Muhammad, made sure that in every possible aspect of life, the benefits tilted toward himself and other muslim men. The Quran, rather than being a universal book of justice, has functioned as a handbook for patriarchy, cementing women’s obedience as sacred duty and muslim men’s dominance as divine order. Call it what it is: not revelation, but construction. Not divine freedom, but a cult… A very successful one.

    Think about it. Muhammad is the only “prophet” who comes without miracles. Jesus healed the sick, raised the dead, and defied nature. Moses split the sea. Noah survived the flood. Ibrahim destroyed idols and stood against kings. Even Adam, the first human, stands with Eve as the first partnership of creation. But Muhammad? His “miracle” is a book….? a book that conveniently grants him ultimate authority, endless privilege, and a license to structure society around his own desires. Is that prophecy, or is it celebrity influence in 7th-century Arabia? Was he a prophet, or was he an ordinary man who mastered persuasion, charisma, and control? Sounds like a celebrity to me.. It is like Tom Cruise’s scientology.

    And here’s something else I want to argue: let’s say Islam really does exist as a divine truth, well, even then, Muslims themselves believe that the real Messiah is Jesus, or ‘Issa’ in Arabic. He is the one who will return to save humanity from evil, from the Dajjal, the Antichrist. It’s Jesus, not Muhammad, who comes back to defeat the darkness and restore justice. So why are we even wasting our time putting our faith in what came after him?? If Jesus is the one destined to return and save us, why are we investing so much of our belief system into a man who came 600 years later, claiming authority through a book alone? Why build an entire religion on top of what even Islam says Jesus will ultimately complete?

    And let us speak of his marriages; forty-four women, by some accounts, including children. This is not piety; this is power, and in modern day, it is not ok. And no, “times were different” is not an excuse. Jesus did not marry children. Noah did not. Ibrahim did not. Adam had Eve, not Eve and Zainab and Aisha and Hafsa and Mariam and a rotating door of women whose presence just happened to consolidate alliances, wealth, and authority. If this was God’s plan, then why does it look so much like the blueprint of male power, repeated across history under the name of religion?

    When I peel back the layers of faith, culture, and the endless repetition of “Islam honours women,” what I see is a system designed for Muslim men, by Muslim men. The Quran tells us women are obedient. That men are guardians. That inheritance is unequal. That testimony is worth half. That men may have multiple wives, while women may never have the same freedom. That divorce rests in men’s hands. That modesty, honour, and chastity are the burden of women, while men move freely. All of this dressed in the language of holiness, as if obedience to men were obedience to God.

    And what has this created? A society where most Arab men sit comfortably on a throne of inherited privilege, claiming their power comes from heaven itself. A society where most Arab women are told that submission is sacred, silence is virtuous, and questioning is sin. A society where generation after generation is brainwashed to believe that inequality is divine order.

    But I ask: if this book were truly divine, would it tilt so clearly in one direction? Would it place half of humanity beneath the other? Would God, who created both man and woman, decide that one is always entitled and the other always obedient? Or is this the hand of man, writing himself into God’s role, ensuring that his word becomes law, and that women remain chained to his authority forever?

    As a woman born into Islam, I refuse to accept that my worth is half. I refuse to accept that God would honour me only through obedience to Muslim men. I refuse to accept that inequality is sacred. If faith is meant to be justice, then where is the justice in a book that elevates one gender over another? Where is the mercy in marriages that treat women as property? Where is the honor in silencing half the world’s voices?

    Some Muslims are afraid to ask these questions. But I believe asking them is the first step toward freedom. If Mohammad was a prophet, then let his message withstand scrutiny. If the Quran is divine, then let it prove itself without hiding behind fear and punishment. And if it cannot, then let us be brave enough to name what it truly is: a system of control, built by Muslim men, for Muslim men, disguised as the word of God.