Burka

When I first arrived here if I saw a woman on the street wearing a burka I was interested and curious. Today when I see a woman wearing a burka, I feel only anger on her behalf.

The men who accompany these women are usually wearing typical western clothing, and they fit in with the crowd. There is nothing about their appearance that would distinguish them from any other man on the street. The woman in the burka, however, stands out from everyone else. At the same time, she is totally anonymous; there is not one feature about her that can be seen. She is covered from top to bottom with this long, heavy, fabric, with only a slit for her eyes to see through. All you know about her is that she is a member of an extremely orthodox muslim group and she cannot show herself to public eyes. She is robbed of her personal individuality and identity. She is more like a symbol than a real live person. She is probably considered to be the possession of some man who no doubt places many more restrictions on her in their home. Meanwhile, that man gets to walk around London like any other person and can interact as he wishes without the stigma of wearing a costume that not only conceals the wearer but also turns most people away.