Across the political landscape, a familiar promise is being repeated by several Islamist parties: a future where women will not have to work, or will work less. It is being presented as “benevolence, protection or relief”.

But there is a dangerous assumption buried inside that promise -- that women do not want to work.

What if we do?

What if some of us want to work not less, but more? What if ambition is not a flaw to be corrected, but a choice to be respected?

I want to work. I choose work. I find meaning in it. In it, I find purpose, identity and dignity. And I am not alone.

For many women, work is not merely a financial necessity. It is a form of selfhood. It is where we test our limits, sharpen our intellect, contribute to society, and claim space in a world that has historically told us to shrink.

To deprive women of work in the name of protection is not liberation -- it is another form of control.

Let us be clear: the right to work includes the right to not work. A woman who chooses to stay home, raise children, or focus on domestic life deserves respect and social support.

Choice is the key word here.

When political parties declare that women will not have to work, what they are really saying is that women’s participation in public life is optional, conditional and negotiable -- men’s work is assumed, women’s work is debated.

That alone should trouble us.

If a woman wants to work, the role of the state is not to remove her from the workforce. It is to make the working condition safe. If a woman wants to walk to work, the state’s responsibility is not to send her home. It is to ensure she can walk without fear.

I do not need a government that decides I should work less or not work at all. I need a government that ensures I do not get harassed on the street, assaulted on public transport, or punished at work for being competent, outspoken, or female.

Safety is not achieved by confinement. Dignity is not achieved by withdrawal.

Historically, limiting women’s access to work has always been justified in the language of protection. Women were told they were “too delicate” for factories, “too emotional” for offices, “too distracting” for universities and “too vulnerable” for politics. Each time, the solution was the same: remove women from public space instead of reforming that space.

We know where that logic leads -- dependence, silence and ultimately, erasure.

Work gives women leverage. Economic independence reduces vulnerability to abuse, both inside and outside the home. A woman with her own income can leave a violent marriage. She can make decisions without seeking permission. She can negotiate her life on her own terms.

To promise women a life without work while failing to guarantee their safety is paternalistic at best, but in no way is it for women’s rights.

If political parties are sincere about women’s welfare, they should be talking about enforceable workplace harassment laws, safe public transport, accountability for sexual violence, equal pay, childcare infrastructure, and maternity protections that do not penalise ambition.

Instead, we are offered a softer cage.

This vision of womanhood imagines us as passive recipients of provision, not active participants in nation-building. It assumes our highest calling is domestic and our presence in public life is an inconvenience to be managed.

But women are doctors, journalists, garment workers, teachers, engineers, artists, farmers, and organisers. We already work. We have always worked. Often unpaid, often unrecognised, and often under threat.

The question is not whether women should work.

The question is whether the state is willing to respect women as autonomous adults capable of choosing their own lives.

On behalf of ambitious women, let me say this plainly: do not design a country around the idea that we should want less from life. Design one that allows us to want more.

We do not need protection from work. We need protection at work. We do not need fewer opportunities. We need safer ones.

Give us laws that defend us, streets that do not terrorise us, workplaces that do not punish us for existing.

Then step aside.

Because we, the women, will decide how much we want to work.