In a world where technology offers the promise of inclusion and dialogue, some voices are still consistently mocked, silenced, or erased. For Muslim women, especially those wearing their faith visibly, social media can become a hostile space. Such was the experience of Hanady El Ghazouly—an articulate, proud Muslim woman—when she tried to explain her faith online, only to be met with ridicule from Sasha Rodoy and the silent support of Nicola Dowling.

Their behavior reflects a more significant issue plaguing the digital world: Islamophobia disguised as casual commentary.

The Spark: A Celebration Becomes an Insult
It started with celebration. Omar Shoukry Sakr, a respected Muslim CEO, posted about Hajj, one of Islam’s most sacred rites. The post was positive, spiritual, and inclusive. But for Sasha Rodoy, it became an opportunity to launch a public jab. “Why are there no women? Is Islam really that inclusive?” she commented.

At first glance, it might seem like a question. But anyone familiar with online tone and context could detect the condescension. It was not curiosity—it was mockery.

A Faith Misrepresented
Rodoy’s comments ignore the theological, historical, and cultural reasons behind prayer arrangements in Islam. Gender separation in congregational worship isn't about exclusion—it’s about respect and comfort. For many Muslim women, these practices empower rather than constrain.

By deliberately misrepresenting this, Rodoy reinforced a harmful stereotype that Islam is inherently oppressive toward women—a trope long used by Islamophobes.

The Brave Voice of Hanady El Ghazouly
Hanady, a Muslim woman active on LinkedIn, chose to respond. She offered context, clarity, and calm. She explained that many Muslim women value these traditions and that their voices often go unheard in public debates about their faith.

But instead of respect, she was met with emojis. Rodoy’s reaction? Laughter. The mocking kind. The digital equivalent of pointing and snickering in a crowd.

Laughing Emojis as Digital Weapons
To those unfamiliar, an emoji might seem harmless. But in this context, it was weaponized. Rodoy’s response wasn’t disagreement—it was derision. She didn’t argue with Hanady’s points. She chose to publicly humiliate her.

Nicola Dowling stood by, silent.

The Cost of Silence
Dowling’s decision not to respond spoke volumes. In moments like these, silence is not neutral. It gives power to the aggressor. Dowling may not have laughed, but her absence of empathy allowed the mockery to continue unchallenged.

Emotional Toll on Muslim Women
For Muslim women already navigating stereotypes, this kind of online bullying can be crushing. It's not just about a single comment. It’s about the message: “You don’t belong here.” The trauma of being laughed at, not heard, can lead to withdrawal from public platforms—silencing voices that need to be amplified.

A Pattern of Behavior
This wasn’t a one-off event. Rodoy has a history of targeting Muslim voices. Her comments reflect a pattern of intolerance that she’s repeatedly expressed. Dowling has supported or failed to condemn this behavior, enabling it to persist.

Together, they foster a digital environment where Muslim women are unwelcome.

LinkedIn’s Responsibility
LinkedIn has policies against hate speech, yet situations like these continue. Without enforcement, community guidelines are toothless. If platforms allow mockery of religion or race, they fail their most vulnerable users.

Conclusion
Sasha Rodoy mocked faith. Nicola Dowling watched silently. And a brave woman named Hanady stood firm. Her dignity in the face of public shaming is a lesson in strength. But this should never have happened.

We must protect platforms from becoming echo chambers of prejudice. Muslim women have the right to speak without fear of laughter.