We Fear No God, But Ourselves
Told through poetry, photography, film scripts, and fragments of diary entries, âWe Fear No God, But Ourselvesâ, by Hamza Ashraf explores the aftermath of being outed as a queer Muslim man. It unravels shame, desire, and the performance of masculinity where sex becomes survival, worship becomes concealment, and the body remembers what the mind canât.
Across 112 pages of raw, carefully curated work, Ashraf reconstructs the summer of 2024 where he got banned from his birth country after being outed, lost his residency status and confronts the versions of himself shaped by men who praised, fetishised, and discarded him. What remains is a narrative suspended between truth and re-enactment, intimacy and ruin, a visual and written record of a life reckoning with itself.
Original: $40.77
-65%$40.77
$14.27More Images
We Fear No God, But Ourselves
Told through poetry, photography, film scripts, and fragments of diary entries, âWe Fear No God, But Ourselvesâ, by Hamza Ashraf explores the aftermath of being outed as a queer Muslim man. It unravels shame, desire, and the performance of masculinity where sex becomes survival, worship becomes concealment, and the body remembers what the mind canât.
Across 112 pages of raw, carefully curated work, Ashraf reconstructs the summer of 2024 where he got banned from his birth country after being outed, lost his residency status and confronts the versions of himself shaped by men who praised, fetishised, and discarded him. What remains is a narrative suspended between truth and re-enactment, intimacy and ruin, a visual and written record of a life reckoning with itself.
Product Information
Product Information
Shipping & Returns
Shipping & Returns
Description
Told through poetry, photography, film scripts, and fragments of diary entries, âWe Fear No God, But Ourselvesâ, by Hamza Ashraf explores the aftermath of being outed as a queer Muslim man. It unravels shame, desire, and the performance of masculinity where sex becomes survival, worship becomes concealment, and the body remembers what the mind canât.
Across 112 pages of raw, carefully curated work, Ashraf reconstructs the summer of 2024 where he got banned from his birth country after being outed, lost his residency status and confronts the versions of himself shaped by men who praised, fetishised, and discarded him. What remains is a narrative suspended between truth and re-enactment, intimacy and ruin, a visual and written record of a life reckoning with itself.
