What I’ve discovered through travelling solo as a Muslim woman

I remember distinctly feeling the need to get out of my hometown. A friend at the time, who was also a Muslim woman and a writer, suggested Malta as a destination. As a hijabi, she found it safe for Muslim women and had no issue. She had asked, as someone who travelled frequently for work, why I had not travelled by myself before. I could not answer her. I recall feeling this fear of the unknown.

It was soon after that conversation that I found myself walking down the promenade in Marsaxlokk, a village in Malta, seeking the best seafood in fishermen’s town. I had booked my flight six days before.

It had not hit me that I would be a stranger in a beautiful city by myself until I got to the royal blue door of my Airbnb. There was a realisation that I was here by myself, with no plans, no one I knew and conscious that no woman in my family or even friends had ever travelled by themselves before.

Tahmina Begum

I quickly unpacked, slipped into a golden midi skirt and sandals that announced my arrival on the cobblestones as I went in search of the nearest ice cream parlour. This wasn’t something I couldn’t do in England, yet the difference was that I had travelled to a corner of the world by myself, with my own money, and on my own timeline. I was self-sufficient. The opportunities felt limitless.

For Muslim women, especially those of the South Asian diaspora, it is not encouraged for them to gain a sense of self outside of servitude for others. We are praised when we look after everyone else first. You do not get points for trying to access the world outside on a whim.

Although the Quran refers to its believers as “travellers”, as a reminder that everything is temporary and we are not in this world for long, it is recommended for a Muslim woman to travel with a man within her family. This is for protection; however, culturally, it can be manipulated for control.