The Woman Under The Burqa
Against the Niqab in defiance, women must stand tall,
With resilience join together to break the Taliban’s thrall.
Our hearts should be a furnace of anger, ablaze,
Igniting against this oppression in these dark days.
Against the murder of these women, we must stand in might,
We must be a beacon of strength in this human rights fight.
Implied beliefs to enslave, like Hamas is a restrictive snare,
We must confront the idea of Chadar, refusing to wear
these constraints that defile us. Be rebellious souls.
For the young girls and women with kindred goals.
Free the voice beneath her agonized, steadfast gaze,
For the woman under the Burqa, let freedom blaze!
Emerging from shadows, a bright and beautiful mind,
yet she is forced to hide her identity and remain undefined.
Muslim extremism is not obedience, it’s a subjugation crime,
Fight for the daughter, mother, sister, loved by God and divine.
Celebrate her spirit and save her, for she is a unique form.
Her independence we declare and pray for our sisters in harm,
A woman in a Hijab, weeps – defeated, what is your stance?
We must join this rebellion if she is to have a chance!

Veiled Voices, Unveiled Resistance: Political Advocacy Poetry and Feminist Defiance in the Shadow of the Burqa

Political advocacy poetry has long served as a weapon of resistance, a vessel for truth, and a rallying cry for justice. When applied to feminist critique—particularly in the context of women forced to wear the burqa, niqab, or chadar under extremist regimes—it becomes a powerful tool for reclaiming identity, autonomy, and voice. The poem presented here is a fierce declaration against the systemic oppression of women under fundamentalist interpretations of Islam, especially in regions governed by the Taliban or similar authoritarian forces. It is not a critique of faith, but of the weaponization of religious symbols to silence, erase, and control.

The poem’s opening lines—“Against the Niqab in defiance, women must stand tall”—immediately establish a tone of resistance. The niqab, while for some a personal or spiritual choice, is here framed as a symbol of enforced invisibility. The poet calls for solidarity and resilience, urging women to rise together and dismantle the ideological chains that bind them. This is not a passive lament but an active invocation: “Our hearts should be a furnace of anger, ablaze.” Anger, often discouraged in women, is reclaimed as a righteous and transformative force.

Throughout the poem, the language is urgent and uncompromising. References to the Taliban and Hamas underscore the political dimension of the struggle, situating the poem within a broader critique of extremist governance that uses religious dogma to justify gender-based subjugation. The mention of “Chadar”—a traditional garment used to cover women—becomes a metaphor for imposed silence. The poet refuses this covering, not out of disdain for cultural heritage, but in protest against its coercive use. The line “Free the voice beneath her agonized, steadfast gaze” is especially poignant, capturing the emotional and psychological toll of enforced erasure while affirming the woman’s inner strength.

This is where feminism and political advocacy poetry converge: in the insistence that every woman, regardless of geography or faith, deserves visibility, agency, and dignity. The poem does not speak for the woman under the burqa—it speaks with her, amplifying her silenced voice and demanding that the world listen. It recognizes her as “a bright and beautiful mind” forced into shadows, and it calls out the false equivalence between obedience and oppression: “Muslim extremism is not obedience, it’s a subjugation crime.”

The feminist ethos of the poem is intersectional and global. It acknowledges the spiritual value of women—“loved by God and divine”—while rejecting the patriarchal systems that distort that divinity into control. The poem’s final plea—“We must join this rebellion if she is to have a chance!”—is not just a poetic flourish; it is a call to action. It demands that readers confront their own complicity, silence, or indifference and stand in solidarity with women whose freedom is denied.

This poetic advocacy aligns with the themes explored in the book Herstory, which reclaims historical narratives from a female perspective. Herstory challenges dominant patriarchal histories by centering women’s experiences, struggles, and triumphs. In the context of the burqa, Herstory would ask: Who writes the story of the veiled woman? Who decides what she represents? The poem answers: She does. And if she cannot yet speak, then we must speak until she can.

Political advocacy poetry like this is not merely art—it is activism. It transforms metaphor into movement, rhythm into rebellion. It insists that the woman under the burqa is not a passive symbol, but a living, thinking, feeling human being whose liberation is both urgent and sacred. Feminism, in this context, is not Western or secular—it is universal. It is the belief that no woman should be hidden, silenced, or erased. And poetry, with its power to ignite hearts and minds, becomes the torch that lights her path to freedom.