From Exile to Expression: Writing as a Political Act
Embracing a non-binary political stance - moving beyond the tribalism of the left and right, staying grounded in my values and exploring Humanism.

It has been several years since my last blog post, and yet my passion for expressing myself through my words remains as fervent as ever. After an extended absence from public writing and social media, I find myself longing to return to the craft that has been such an integral part of my journey. Writing these new posts makes me feel like I'm rekindling a relationship with an old friend.
The human experience is ever-evolving, and our societies are constantly shifting, making it crucial to approach the world with infinite curiosity and an open mind. Through my hiatus, life has taken me on a journey filled with triumphs and tribulations that have broadened my perspectives and deepened my understanding of the world. As I reflect on my experiences, I feel invigorated to resume my writing, eager to share my insights and observations with an audience who shares my passion for exploring the complexities of our world.
As I continue on my writing journey, I'm eager to explore a wide range of topics that have been on my mind and that I now hold a deep interest in. These topics include my experiences as a political refugee, my thoughts on the societal impact of the pandemic, the broken monetary system that continues to widen the wealth gap and oppress the poor globally, the continued acceleration of technology and its impact on societies, democracy, and human rights, science, the evolving political climate and culture, and the human impact on the environment. Furthermore, I will continue to write about my ideas and perspectives on events in the Maldives.
In addition to these topics, I want to dive deep into my humanist worldview and how those values and beliefs influence my views. I also want to address the problematic nature of tribal "us vs them" politics and how it contributes to the polarization and divisiveness in society. I aim to approach these issues from a more measured centrist stance, grounded in my core beliefs and values. My politics are non-binary - I don't swing left or right, and I prefer to write in a language that allows for more than just two options! As I explore the middle ground between different political ideologies, I hope to find common ground with liberal, libertarian, and conservative talking points that align with my values.
I look forward to sharing my insights and reflections on these subjects, and I hope to spark thought-provoking conversations that contribute to a greater understanding of the world we live in. I am excited to engage with my readers and learn from their feedback and perspectives as I continue this journey.
For those who are new to my writing, let me introduce myself. I started my writing journey 19 years ago, and my passion for writing has only strengthened over time. I am a passionate advocate for important issues, such as secularism, democracy, and human rights. My writing has forced me to endure challenging situations. I have been imprisoned, put under house arrest, and forced into exile because of my opinions. In all instances, my persecutors were both the state and religious fanatics.Â
After being recognized by the UN as a political refugee and resettled in Canada through the country's federally run Urgent Protection Program (UPP) in 2017, I am fortunate to have the opportunity to continue using my voice to spark thought and conversation. As I navigated my life unfolding and the trials and tribulations of being an opinionated writer and political activist, my passion for writing has only strengthened over time, even in the face of such adversity. It is through this unique perspective that I hope to share with all of you the lessons I have learned and the experiences I have had. I hope my words will spark thought and conversation, and we can continue to connect and learn from each other in the coming months and years.
Our experiences define us
My current worldview and how I approach specific topics, such as politics, religion, and human rights, have been profoundly shaped by my experiences in Canada. One of the biggest challenges I faced was navigating discussions about Islam in the West.
As someone who fought against religious orthodoxy and harm to human rights in an Islamic country, I found myself in conflict with the Western liberal issue of dealing with "Islamophobia." I quickly realized that making conversations about Islam was not always allowed, and cultural relativism and racism were touted as reasons. To me, this was problematic because, in the West, one can criticize Christianity without being labelled a bigot, yet discussing problems with Islam often came with a different response. Hypocrisy always left a bad taste in my mouth.
To illustrate this point, I can share a personal anecdote that highlights the difficulties of navigating discussions around Islam in the West. In my first year in Canada, I sought like-minded people to connect with and rebuild my life. I came across the Sunday meetings of the British Columbia Humanist Association (BC Humanists) through the Meetup app on my phone. I started attending the meetings and slowly got to know some members, some of whom have become meaningful friends in my life.Â
Over time, I felt comfortable sharing my story about leaving Islam in a hostile environment, becoming an atheist and my struggles for democracy and secularism in the Maldives. I was grateful for the opportunity to speak about my experiences, and my friend Joann, who once chaired the organization, encouraged me to do so. She provided me with the support and guidance I needed to overcome some of my personal struggles with PTSD and share my story with the BC Humanists community.
However, I soon realized that a more radical left-leaning faction of the community, now known colloquially as "the woke," had begun their takeover of the organization. They started censoring content on their website and social media channels deemed "wrong think" according to the ideological beliefs of this group. As the "woke" segment took over the organization, they censored and erased dissenting voices, including those who had fought against religious orthodoxy and harm to human rights in Islamic countries. My story and those of others who had struggled in Islamic theocracies were cancelled and deleted.
As someone who had suffered under religious orthodoxy, this censorship was hypocritical and hurtful. I felt pained by the experience of being silenced by people who claimed to be fighting for social justice, civil liberties and human rights, especially under the banner of Humanism. The BC Humanists community, which had once been a safe space for me to share my experiences and find like-minded individuals, became a place where my story and the stories of others didn't matter as far as the organization's public face was concerned.
This experience showed me that while it is essential to protect minorities and marginalized groups, we should not shy away from having difficult and nuanced conversations about the harm caused by religion, regardless of the cultural and political context. As a humanist, I believe it is essential to address and bring awareness to these issues, even if it means challenging some of the assumptions and values of Western liberalism.
While I understand that Muslims are a minority in the West and that there are bigots motivated by hatred, it's imperative that we protect them while still having difficult and nuanced conversations about the harm caused by religion. In my case, it was Islam. As a humanist, I found it essential to address and bring awareness to these issues, regardless of the difficulties in navigating conversations.
Additionally, my experiences navigating discussions around Islam in the West were not limited to ideological conflicts. Now a migrant refugee in a foreign and new country, I faced challenges finding employment despite having a wealth of transferable skills and experience. I share this to add further context to this issue of navigating Islam in the West and dealing with the challenges that came with how political liberalism in the West was evolving.Â
I repeatedly encountered instances where I was deemed unhirable because of my public criticisms of Islam, despite my criticisms being rooted in a desire to promote personal freedoms, civil liberties, autonomy, self-determination, human rights, women, children and minority rights, secularism, and democracy. These are the very values that liberal democracy in the West was built on.
Even more frustratingly, the fact that I had been imprisoned in the past also seemed to hinder my ability to find employment. It didn't seem to matter that my imprisonment resulted from being wrongfully persecuted by a religiously motivated, deeply entrenched authoritarian dictatorship. My only "crime" was fighting for the values that the West purports to hold dear.
This highlights the unfairness, double standards, and hypocrisy that exists within our liberal Canadian society. On the one hand, we champion the very values that I fought for, yet on the other hand, we deny people who have fought for those same values the chance to integrate and contribute to our society. It is a disheartening reality that demonstrates just how far we still have to go in achieving true equality and justice for all.Â
Though anecdotal, my experiences stand testament to how censorship of dissenting voices can lead to the erasure of important narratives and experiences, which is dangerous for any society.
Beyond that, my journey as a landed migrant rebuilding my life in Vancouver went on to expose me to the struggles of immigrant life in Canada. I got to experience some of the challenges faced by the working class from the perspectives of both the conservatives and liberals. As an outsider, I observed and learned objectively, seeking to understand the struggles of this new environment.
Despite multiple attempts to secure employment that matched my qualifications and skill set, I eventually changed tack and settled for any available job. In late 2017, I began working as a sales associate at Roots, a multinational clothing company and one of the most recognizable brands in Canada. I was earning minimum wage, working eight-hour shifts five days a week, with rotating workdays. I went above and beyond what was required, terrified of falling through the cracks of society and having to struggle with rent, all the while not having the comforting security of friends or family in the event I needed any help or assistance. I had to make it work; I had become my own safety net. I might write more details about this stage in a follow-up post.
Another significant event that profoundly impacted my worldview was the government and public health authorities' response to Covid-19. Like many others, I initially supported lockdowns as the disease was novel and much was unknown, including its mortality rate and long-term effects for those who survived. It seemed prudent to err on the side of caution at the time. As more scientific information about the virus became available, I began seeing how fear, irrationality, and even well-intentioned efforts to protect the vulnerable led to more and more extreme measures and mandates infringing on human rights.
As the situation worsened, I found it challenging to reconcile my values of advocating for human rights and democracy with the need to comply with increasingly totalitarian public health guidelines to keep myself and others safe. As a lifelong human rights activist, I understood that the consequences of sacrificing freedoms and democracy for short-term gains would be severe and that regaining what was lost would be unduly challenging. We must strive to protect the democratic and human rights gains we have made so far and continue to build upon them for the betterment of society.
Every ounce of me told me it was necessary to raise the alarm that some of these measures were regressing our long-hard-won human rights standards. Combined with the ongoing struggles of rebuilding my life in a new country added to the weight on my shoulders, feeling overwhelmed and unsure of how to move forward, I found myself struggling to find the words to express my thoughts and feelings, and my blog fell silent. Promptly. I withdrew from active public social media as well.
After I withdrew from social media, I settled into the monotonous routine of life in lockdown. At first, like many others, I thought it would be short-lived. But as the days turned into weeks and months, it became clear that the situation was far from temporary. My employer eventually laid me off, uncertain if there would be any work to return to in the foreseeable future. During that time, I relied on my employment insurance and government benefits to support myself while taking on various online work.
However, as I adjusted to this new reality, the fractures in my relationship with my wife became more apparent. We were both adjusting to life as migrant refugees in Canada, and we were dealing with our own individual mental health struggles. Yet, at the heart of our irreconcilable conflicts was the fact that we could not have children. Despite seeking medical assistance, all our pregnancies had ended in miscarriage before term, and we fell into the 20% of miscarriages that medical science could not explain. In total, my wife and I had gone through the heartbreaking experience of nine known miscarriages.
With the added stress of the lockdown, it became clear that we needed to go our separate ways. We filed for divorce in 2021 on the grounds of mutually wanting separation, which was a difficult decision for both of us. But it was the right thing to do. We soon parted ways, and we remain good friends to this day. I feel fortunate to have the relationship end the way it did; given everything we had lived through and shared along the way, it would have been a shame not to remain friends.
Concurrently, safety and security concerns dominated this period of my life. Multiple death threats were directed at me, resulting in police reports filed with the Vancouver Police Department and Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Working with law enforcement, a trail of reports was established to help ensure rapid response in an emergency situation. An open case file with the RCMP remains active for this purpose. I had essentially given up privacy in exchange for security so that I could protect my one life.
The threats were deemed credible enough that the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS), Canada's intelligence agency, issued a legally mandated warning. According to CSIS, information indicated that an Islamist terrorist cell was actively seeking to locate me, intending to make an example of a dissenter against Islam, like myself.
Mentally and emotionally, I was exhausted from the life that had been thrust upon me. On top of everything, I was also dealing with mobility issues that stemmed from childhood injuries that worsened over time due to my sedentary work life and the added strain of being on the run as an asylum seeker. Finding myself going through some of the worst times of my life, I found the strength, courage, and determination to keep going by forcing myself to exercise and go on hiking expeditions that lasted for hours on end. I will write more about my fitness journey in another post.
This chapter of my life taught me the power of perseverance and resilience, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.
Throughout my ordeal, I began to think more about money, what my long-term prospects were, what my life would be like during old age and the sort of expenses I might incur, how I could save money for my future, how I spend it and transport it over space and time. My curiosity led me to Bitcoin, where I spent hundreds of hours studying in-depth to understand its technology, game theory, value proposition, and what it solves. I thought about the incentives that drive human behaviour and shape our lives daily. This exploration also made me question what money is and how it evolved as humans tried to solve social cohesion over time.
I discovered that by understanding money, we can better grasp our collective power as people and what we can do to foster a more just and equal society. We can use our knowledge and resources to advocate for societal justice and human rights globally. It starts with us, and I'm ready to start the conversation.
Through my writing, I want to explore the evolution of my views and share the importance of human rights in our complex and changing world. Although I still want to talk about the struggles in the Maldives, I feel compelled to have a much bigger discourse that is not intuitive to most people worldwide, given that most people are still religious and have notions about the universe and life that are not in line with a scientific consensus. I hope my story and perspectives can contribute to and help create dialogue in a hyper-partisan and polarized political world.
Some housekeeping
As I return to blogging, I've made the decision to move to Substack, a platform that offers more flexibility and opportunities for engagement than my previous WordPress blog. It also allows me to do this, perhaps full-time even, while being beyond any particular source's influence. I'm cautiously optimistic as I embark on this new phase of my writing journey and share my perspectives with a broader audience.