In the chronicles of Kuwaiti literature and political life, one name pulses with defiance and vision: Taiba Al-Ibrahim—the first Kuwaiti woman to write science fiction, and one of the first to run for Parliament when women were finally allowed to do so. But more than her accolades, it’s her unwavering belief in the value of a woman’s voice that makes her a beacon.
Taiba Al-Ibrahim was not content to wait for change—she embodied it. To me, she is a voice: clear, unwavering, and deeply feminist. A woman who carved space for herself in rooms where none was offered. She ran for office, wrote bold fiction, and challenged patriarchal norms with grace and grit. Her feminism wasn’t theoretical—it was practiced daily in the quiet, intellectual assertion of autonomy and agency. She told us, not with slogans but through her life’s work: your voice matters, and your silence is not a virtue.
In her novels, she imagined alternate futures—worlds where gender roles were not fixed, where humanity was forced to confront the consequences of its own biases and blind spots. Titles like The Faded Human (الإنسان الباهت), The Multiple Human (الإنسان المتعدد), and The Extinction of Man (انقراض الرجل) weren’t just science fiction; they were political allegories dressed in futuristic skins. Her work dared to ask: What happens when patriarchy collapses? What emerges in its place?
When she ran for the National Assembly in 2006, Taiba defied expectations at every turn. She refused to open a diwaniya or host grand receptions to attract votes. She didn’t flatter tribal egos or appeal to religious populism. Instead, she stood firmly on principle—calling for justice, equality, and the separation of religion from state. She challenged patriarchal norms head-on: questioning polygamy, advocating for a woman’s right to consent in divorce, and demanding legal parity. Her views—then and now—were seen as radical by many, but she refused to soften them for public approval. Rather than echoing familiar rhetoric, she asked the difficult questions: Why must a man have the unilateral right to divorce? Why must women still seek permission to lead? Why is religion used to silence rather than to liberate?
For this, she was praised by some and vilified by others. But she never flinched. It takes immense courage to speak truths your society is not yet ready to hear. But that’s exactly what pioneers do—they plant seeds in soil that may not bloom in their lifetime.
In a media interview, she openly critiqued the societal mechanisms that hinder women’s political success—not just structural barriers, but internalized ones too. She pointed out how some women voters continued to align themselves with tribal, religious, or sectarian ideologies that ultimately worked against their own empowerment. She understood that patriarchy doesn’t only survive through men; it survives through the complicity of the silenced. Her honesty was cutting. Her clarity, disarming.
Taiba didn’t just want women to be represented—she wanted them to be awake.
Though she was not celebrated in her lifetime as she should have been, she persisted. She kept writing. Kept speaking. Kept imagining. Her legacy was never built for applause—it was built for impact. And impact it had. She is a role model—not just for Kuwaiti women, but for all of us who believe in the quiet, unstoppable power of conviction. She showed us that a woman can write science fiction, run for office, reject the systems that silence her, and still move forward with dignity.
Some called her controversial.
I call her necessary.
I call her necessary.
A list of Taiba Al-Ibrahim's books on Goodreads: