History holds immense significance, as reflected in famous proverbs like “History repeats itself” and “Nations that forget their history cannot progress.” As a PhD student, I am deeply convinced of history’s crucial role in shaping our present and future. The philosophies and theories we apply in research are deeply rooted in historical contexts, carrying with them a rich intellectual and social legacy. For instance, when I first delved into the concept of feminism, I discovered its association with the metaphorical “waves” and the long struggle women undertook to secure their rights. Even in the United States, women had to launch the suffrage movement to win the right to vote, a right that may seem self-evident today. If we observe present-day America, it might appear as though women have always enjoyed fundamental rights. However, history reveals the tireless efforts that paved the way for gender justice in the West. Women today not only have the right to vote but also enjoy access to education, career opportunities, and the autonomy to plan their families. History, therefore, is not just a record of the past; it is a testament to human struggle and progress. It reminds us that the rights and freedoms we often take for granted were hard-won and must be safeguarded for future generations.

While reflecting on the significance of history, a wild thought crossed my mind: Were there any female historians in the past from Asian Muslim societies? If so, I would love to read their accounts to learn how women of earlier times lived, spoke, and supported (or perhaps failed to support) each other. With this curiosity, I turned to Google, the ever-reliable and ever-ready source of instant knowledge. I must admit that history had never been my favourite subject during my school years. Perhaps I had simply been a disinterested student, or maybe the textbooks I read had never highlighted the contributions of women in a way that would have captured my attention. I assumed there must have been Asian Muslim female historians whose work had been overlooked or forgotten. But when I searched for them, the results left me stunned.

According to Google, while many female historians have existed throughout history, they were almost exclusively from the West. Even a cursory glance revealed a glaring absence of Muslim women historians in the historical record. What did this mean? It meant that learning about the lives, thoughts, and experiences of past Asian Muslim women was nearly impossible, not because they remained marginalized in historical accounts, but because they never got the chance to record their own stories in their own words. The historical accounts we learn today are, more often than not, filtered through a male lens. Women of the past, whether by choice or due to societal constraints, left the task of documenting their experiences to men. And history, as we know, has largely been a male-dominated narrative. The result? A deeply skewed version of the past, one where women’s voices are either absent or misrepresented.

This realization struck me like a blow. It made me wonder: Had women documented their own lives, would our understanding of history be different? Would we have richer and broader perspectives on the role of women in shaping societies?

Perhaps it is time to re-examine history, not just as a series of events but as a narrative that needs correction. Perhaps it is time to uncover the silenced voices, reconstruct the missing stories, and question the idea that history was ever a neutral account of the past. After all, history is not just about what happened; it is about who gets to tell the story. And for far too long, women’s stories have remained untold.