Let it be known, I choose to wear the burqa.I choose to feel safe and in control of my space,I hold the reasons to my bosom, my breathing, music to my ears,Under my shield, the world spinning on my fingertips,The feeling only I can truly understand.They scream for ‘My rights’No one asking me if I feel jailed under my clothes,Ignoring the fact that the answer would be ‘No’My voice not muffled under material,But rather by the by-standers’ judgementalism.Round and around, we encircle the issue of my garments.Yes, my  ‘garments’!Soon I just might be designated colours to match their preferences.Suddenly, it’s the world against a culture, a lifestyle; a heritage.Denying me my conscience; my decision to be the woman I wish to be,To be part of what sucks me into something greater than just my individualistic existenceI watch the innocent minds cave in to the pressure,Convinced that they are being dragged into the underworld of ‘ancient-ism’,Their minds brainwashed with the scrub of media; Feeding their craving to fit in, soaking their inner beings with fear,It reeks right through their guts. Am I the only one finding this degrading?Watching the child next door wears his crucifix with pride,I wish the same for my daughterBut wat does she do?;She tucks her headscarfs in her bag, dropping her head in public,Ashamed; scared of being the misfit, awkward in her choices.This is not a exhibition of the clashes of beliefsIt’s a denouncement of a theftA robbery of my voice, my desire. A robbery of my chance to pass on what I was taught as a girl..Modesty.  Sacredness of self.  Strength from within.