When is a piece of cloth not just a piece of cloth?
When it is a superhero cape.
In a book written by a young girl about hijab. She says:
Hi everyone, my name is Hooriya Fatima, I am 11 years old and proud to be hijabi. … she goes on to say “imagine you have a superhero costume or a special outfit that makes you feel confident and happy. For Muslim girls and women the hijab is like a special outfit they wear daily.”
For Hooriya, the hijab is not just a cloth, it’s what gives her confidence and it gives her comfort.
A Polish convert recently mentioned that when she first put on her hijab, she suddenly felt empowered. She felt as if it was a cloak of protection. She described it as feeling like her father was right beside her when she wore it. For many Muslim women, the hijab is like an extra layer that gives them a sense of security.
Coming back to the superhero analogy, just as superman puts on his cape to face challenges, a hijab is like that cape that Muslim women put on every day. Just as a superhero has a mission – to save the world, the hijab is a reminder that we have a greater purpose. While Clark Kent is happy working 9-5, Superman has more to do. The hijab is that reminder that we have a responsibility to others beyond our own selves. We are not just here to pass time, but in this transient life, we are here for a higher purpose, to serve God, to humanity and to make the world a better place.
So the hijab is not just a cloth, it is reminder our accountability to God. Faith holds us accountable for our choices, our actions and our words. This is common across all religions. Interestingly the turban, which is typically worn by Sikh men rather than women; has become a garment that some Sikh women are choosing to wear. One Sikh woman, recently interviewed by the BBC, explained why she chose to wear it, saying:
“Doing this has helped me stay grounded and focused on what my responsibilities are as a human being.”
One of the aims of faith is to help us reach our potential, to refine our selves, to improve our characters, and to stay within the boundaries of a moral framework.
The Prophet ﷺ said:
Nothing is heavier upon the scale of the believer on the Day of Resurrection than good character (Tirmidhi)
Hijab is not an isolated command. It is just one part of larger framework
The hijab is not a stand-alone command – it has a context. It is part of a grander scheme – which is the creation of a harmonious and caring, well-functioning society. A society where women feel confident and secure to be who they are and not pressurised to attain society’s unattainable standards of beauty, nor objectified.
Wearing hijab is about trusting that our creator knows better than us. Just as a parent tells a child to put on their coat when they go out in the cold – at a personal level, the moment when I decided to wear the hijab was when I realised that God does not command us to do anything that is bad for us, nor does He tell us to refrain from something that is good for us. Like fasting, it is something that is beneficial for us.
Emily, a recent convert and the founder of Allocation Assist in Dubai, posted:
Deciding to wear hijab took me about two days — it was fairly easy because I’ve always liked standing out, and I’ve noticed the respect it brings…The most difficult part about converting to Islam has been changing my character to match what God wants from me, especially in how I treat others. I struggle with my reactions when I’m not feeling well, how I speak to people, being too aggressive in business, wanting to control everything, and sometimes speaking about others when they aren’t there. It weighs heavily on my heart.
Obedience leads to liberation
At the heart of it, wearing the hijab is simply an act of obedience to our creator. It beautifully epitomises one of the many paradoxes of Islam. Islam is full of paradoxes, such as the concept of zakat, which is the charity Muslims, (who have the means), are obligated to give. Though zakat is an act of giving, the word zakah means “growth”. The idea is that giving does not deplete your wealth, but enriches you. Another paradox is that humility brings you honour. The Prophet ﷺ said:
“No one humbles himself for God, except that God raises him.” (Muslim)
The greatest paradox is Islam itself. ‘Islam’ means submission, which is the fundamental concept that obedience to God liberates you.
When you make Allah your ultimate reference point, you no longer need to worry, “What will they think?” You do not need validation from others, you do not have to perform for attention or fit in. Similarly, hijab frees one from having to fit in.
Obedience to God not only liberates you from others, but your own impulses. Obedience entails relinquishing one’s ego and following rules, living by a structure. The pillars of that structure, such as prayer and fasting are means of training the self. That discipline isn’t prison, it’s self-mastery. If you can master yourself, you can free yourself from the shackles of baser instincts and move upwards to a higher level of being.
Someone who can’t say no to desires isn’t “free”; they’re controlled by cravings, mood swings, addiction, or impulse.
Therefore, we see that paradoxically boundaries create real freedom, and limits create space. Just as:
- sleep routines give you energy
- budgets give you financial peace
- gym discipline gives you physical freedom
Similarly, submitting to Allah gives one a moral and spiritual structure that reduces chaos and increases inner strength.
Boxing and judging
In a world where women are used to sell products and analysis reveals that advertising, which features idealised and stereotypical portrayals of femininity, continues to be associated with negative psychological outcomes such as increased body dissatisfaction and self-objectification.
Studies examining TikTok beauty content have found that even brief exposure can trigger immediate negative psychological effects, including increased appearance shame, anxiety, and lowered self-compassion.
Scholars of postfeminist media culture assert that femvertising, (ads that are supposed to support women and girls, often aiming to dismantle traditional gender roles in media) though seemingly empowering, might ironically perpetuate the idea that women’s worth is predominantly linked to their appearance and purchasing power.
The hijab, to some extent, counters this. It rejects women from being judged on their looks. It’s a way of saying: my worth isn’t up for public evaluation, and my body isn’t a product to be displayed, rated, or consumed.
Dignity is about being treated as a full human being, refusing to let the world ‘price-tag’ you by appearance. It shifts value from ‘display’ to ‘worth’.
A lot of modern culture links a women’s value to visibility: the more you show, the more you’re noticed, the more you’re validated.
Hijab pushes back gently but clearly:
- attention isn’t the same as honour
- being seen isn’t the same as being valued
- confidence doesn’t require exposure
Islam teaches that Allah honoured human beings, and that modesty (haya) is a virtue that protects that honour. The body is an amanah (trust) and has sanctity and covering is part of treating that trust with respect.
This is why head-coverings are worn by people of many faiths, by both men and women – whether it is the Sikh turban or the Jewish kippah, the hijab or the coverings worn by nuns and bishops, and scarves and wigs of orthodox Jewish women.
There was a time when it was considered uncouth if a man didn’t wear a hat. The hat represented respect. Even in our modern context, when Melania Trump visited the Vatican, she wore a long sleeve dress and a black veil.
Hats only stopped being worn in England in the 1950s and 60s, until then it was unthinkable to be seen without headgear – boys wore pre-school caps from an early age, working class men wore flat caps, bowler hats were worn by the civil service. Arab men wear keffiyehs, and these offer protection from the sun and sand. If you look at a timeline, until recently, headwear has been around since the ancient Egyptians.
Hijab is about modesty
The obvious purpose of hijab is modesty. In Islam, modesty starts with the heart and behaviour: lowering the gaze, choosing respectful speech, not seeking attention, and carrying yourself with self-respect. Clothing is the visible boundary of that inner value. So hijab is an expression of a bigger principle.
Modesty protects dignity because it sets boundaries.
Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) mentioned haya in many narrations, for instance, he said:
‘Modesty/shyness only brings good.’ (Bukhari and Muslim)
‘Faith has seventy-plus branches; the highest of which is the declaration that there is no god but Allah, and the least of which is removing harmful things from the road, and modesty is a branch of faith.’ (Bukhari and Muslim)
The Prophet (peace be upon him) was reinforcing its importance, encouraging people to cultivate this trait.
Imam Nawawi said in his book “Riyad as-Salihin” (Book of Ethics, Chapter on Modesty and its Virtue and Encouraging it):
Modesty is an internal quality that drives a person to do what is admirable and beautiful, while refraining from actions that are disgraceful and shameful.
A modest person feels shy in the presence of others when they act in ways contrary to decency; they feel shy before God when committing sins, and they feel shy when neglecting obligations or not doing what should be done. Thus, modesty is a part of faith.
In today’s world, a lot of what surrounds us, education, media, entertainment, and social norms, quietly works against haya, against modesty. Through films, cartoons, books, and online platforms, there’s often a constant push that normalises immodesty and makes dignity feel old-fashioned.
We often look back at the last with a sense of condescension and an assumption that modernity is better and progressive. Yet without looking at the past with rose tinted nostalgia, there are values that we could benefit from if we were to revive them. Sliced bread is convenient, but doesn’t taste as good as a freshly baked loaf…
To think of head coverings as anachronistic, and those who wear them backward is lazy assumption. Women in hijab do not need anyone’s pity nor do they want to liberated or rescued.
My friend Tara Uzra Dawood, who is a Pakistani entrepreneur, leader, philanthropist and champion of women’s empowerment recently gave a Ted Talk on Unboxing Identity. She said:
We are itching to box people. Itching to define and label them. However we should we not be lazy in our perception of others, nor be so lazy as to let others define us.
We should have courage to not simply accept the confines of the labels and expectations that come to us from our family and culture, but be brave in asking ourselves who we actually are and what we stand for, and know that we each have the agency to make our own choices and carve our own paths.
Carving one’s own path and taking your own decisions, often at odds with other’s norms or expectations is tough. I had a friend who started to wear her hijab the same times as me, but moved to Abu Dhabi gave up wearing the hijab because of the pressure she felt to fit in. Those women who took the hijab in the post 9-11 years were incredibly brave as they wore it in an atmosphere of suspicion and hostility.
So what women in hijab need is simply the space to take their own personal journey.
The hijab should neither be a barrier for a woman to succeed in any field nor should people assume that hijab exists to uphold patriarchy or to control women.
For many Muslim women the hijab is something that restores agency rather than removes it. In a world where visibility has become currency, hijab isn’t a withdrawal from society. It’s a boundary within it. It’s a way of choosing how to appear in public, without turning your body into the price of being seen.
And maybe that’s why, despite stereotypes and political debates, more women, even in Western countries, are choosing to wear it. Some still assume pressure or brainwashing, but that often says more about society’s discomfort with faith-based choices than it does about Muslim women themselves. Many women who wear hijab are thoughtful, educated, independent, and fully capable of critical reflection. Their choice isn’t made in spite of their strength. It’s made because of it.
Sadly, discussions about hijab often come with a certain condescension, an assumption that the most ‘advanced’ society is the one with the fewest boundaries. In a world where you can ‘bare as much as you dare’, hijab quietly asks a different question: what if a woman doesn’t want to bare her head?
In a diverse setting like this, one principle matters most: liberty must include choices we do not personally make. As much as a woman has the right not to wear hijab, she has the right to wear it. True pluralism isn’t just tolerating difference in theory, it’s protecting it in practice. So that no woman is excluded, endangered, or ridiculed because of how she dresses, whether she covers or not.
Indeed, when you spend time across cultures, you realise every civilisation has something to teach. No culture has a monopoly on what it means to be free.
Islam puts it simply: people are equal. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ taught that no one is superior to another because of race or background. Superiority is in goodness, in character, kindness, and integrity. He even taught that the heaviest thing on the scales is good character. That is a deeply modern idea: worth measured not by looks, lineage, or labels, but by who you are.
So does hijab belong to a bygone age, or does it have a place in modern society? One answer is simply visible: millions of women across the world wear it, in countless colours, fabrics, and styles. And it’s a phenomenal global sisterhood. Diverse, yet united.
I believe that in this diverse society, where so many women are guided by influencers to look a certain way, we can build a society where women are allowed to define themselves, beyond the gaze, beyond political anxiety, and beyond the demand to conform to any single cultural script.