*Amina-Saira-related spoilers.*
It’s been a while since I reviewed We Are Lady Parts. We’re still waiting on series 2, but in the meantime, I wanted to revisit the central relationship between Amina and Saira, one of the best parts of an excellent show.
On the surface level, they couldn’t be more different. Amina is precise and a little prissy, a neat hijabi who’s dedicated to her studies and is anxious to get married while also dreaming of a love story worthy of an old movie. She has a life plan and isn’t prepared to accept any deviations from that path, even as she recognizes that she doesn’t quite mesh with her precise, prissy friends. Amina wants something more, but she often feels too timid to go after it.
Saira, meanwhile, is the opposite of timid. She’s surly and spiky, doing whatever she wants and not looking to anyone for permission or approval. She embodies the punk philosophy of the band she fronts, bold and unapologetic in everything she does. She’s seeing someone but holds him at arm’s length—even Saira craves and needs connection, she feels the need to act like she doesn’t, not allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of others.
In short, they’re pastels and black. Frills and a spiked collar. A simper and a snarl. But when Saira sees Amina, she knows that the prim, fussy guitarist is exactly what they need to complete their sound. Amina has paralyzing stage fright to the point that she can’t perform in public, preferring to stay behind the scenes coaching her young guitar students, but Saira is undeterred by Amina’s tendency to throw up when she’s in front of an audience. Knowing that Amina would never come to an audition of her own volition, Saira schemes to convince her in another way.
From the very start, there’s friction. Amina doesn’t want to want to be in the band, both because of her stage fright and because of her concerns that being in a punk band, even an all-female Muslim one, would be improper. But after she agrees to join, she quickly rubs her bandmates the wrong way by getting judgy about their lyrics and song subjects. Her waffling attitude constantly aggravates Saira.
Incredibly, though, the Saira who’s averse to all things soft and vulnerable refuses to give up on Amina. When Amina questions the propriety of having a song called “Voldemort Under My Headscarf,” Saira keeps Ayesha from biting her head off and tries to explain the defiant, ironic bent of the song. When the other bandmates question Amina’s ability to perform, Saira continually stands up for her. When Amina risks missing an important band audition, Saira comes to collect her, and when Amina freezes onstage, Saira tries to shake her out of it.
The band isn’t just music to Saira—it’s a way of life. She sees Lady Parts as a way for her and her friends to decide what sort of lives they want as Muslim women, and she wants to show Amina how to be a part of that. Not simply doing things for appearances or to appease others, but doing things because she has a passion for them. Taking up space and being confident, speaking up before the world has a chance to push her down.
Amina feels that early on, but she can’t quite allow her head to believe or accept it. She repeatedly tries to back away, even as she’s floored by the incredible possibilities that the band opens up for her. But as the season goes on, Saira draws her in, helping her with her stage fright and showing her that she gets to decide what being a Muslim woman looks like for her. Amina’s version of that will never look like Saira’s, but that’s okay. She learns how to be herself and not apologize for it, and in turn, her sweet, soft personality keeps Saira from running when things get too real. Saira might at times be positioned as Amina’s punk mentor, but Saira needs Amina too, and over time, the precise, prissy guitarist has a thing or two to teach the surly, spiky frontwoman.
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