A coming of age memoir about growing up queer in a strict Muslim household. Like Educated with a modern British context.
Mohsin grew up in a deprived pocket of east London; his family was close-knit but very religiously conservative. From a young age Mohsin felt different but in a home where being gay was inconceivable he also felt very alone. Outside of home Mohsin went to a failing inner city school where gang violence was a fact of life.
As he grew up life didn’t seem to offer teenage Mohsin any choices: he was disenfranchised as a poor, brown boy, and he was isolated from his family as a closet gay Muslim.
However Mohsin had incredible drive and he used education as a way out of his home life and to throw himself into a new kind of life. He became the first person from his school to go to Oxford University and there he found the freedom to come out to his friends.
But Oxford was a whole different world with its own huge challenges and Mohsin found himself increasingly conflicted. It came to a head when Mohsin went back to visit his parents only to be confronted by his father and a witchdoctor he'd invited to 'cure' Mohsin.
Although Mohsin's story takes harrowing turns it is full of life and humour, and it ends inspiringly. Through his irrepressible spirit Mohsin breaks through emotional and social barriers and in the end he even finds acceptance from his family.
Now Mohsin is a top criminal barrister who fights large-scale cases on a daily basis. Having faced battles growing up, he truly understands the importance of justice as a way of life.
Okay, so this floored me. The story of Moshin Zaidi’s life is not only heartbreaking in places, eye opening for me in others, but ultimately ends in sending messages of hope. In parts I fought to hold back my tears and it affected me on a personal level, in particular with regards to his Uncle Tier. This will stay with me ❤️
One of the best memoirs I've read in a long time, A Dutiful Boy is a must read for everyone across ages, gender, culture and beliefs. Mohsin Zaidi is an epitome of a real catalyst of change starting from his own sexual identity to becoming a lawyer and advocating equality and justice for all. I admire his audacity and perserverance despite insurmountable barriers between his family and his own happiness. With your story Mohsin, you created a place for hope, acceptance, diversity and inclusivity, validating people for who they are and not who they should be. Thank you! 👏
A memoir that really shines bright in its message and leaves you feeling so hopeful and warm you can’t help but love it.
Mohsin is the child of Pakistani Muslim parents growing up in London on the breadline. As we follow his childhood and his realisation and acceptance regarding his sexuality; we follow the highs and lows this brings with remarkable frankness.
I flew through this whilst at work. It was gripping, emotional and a voice that I desperately needed to hear. Listening to this on audio really heightened the experience.
This is a beautiful and brilliant memoir all about religion, faith, family, sexuality and a story of a young man finding acceptance. Beautifully written too and an important book that could and will save lives. We need more stories like Moshin's. I loved it.
An eloquent and beautiful memoir. It made me laugh and it made me cry (on the tube as well, which is quite a sight when wearing a face mask). Deeply touching, I highly recommend it.
such an important important important book. the number of books in this particular genre is lacking and its so so fucking nice to just read something and feel seen. I underlined so many parts that are so relatable and so funny and so sad because they're true.
I welled up at so many parts and mostly tears of sadness but the 'rainbow laces' got tears of joy out of me.
it's all a work in progress, his family and his life. and it was really really nice to see this and to read this - i ate it tf up in two days. its exciting and it gives me hope and it's very touching.
Being that this is the first memoir I have read, and supremely well written one at that, I was unprepared to experience a parasocial relationship on steroids. I would binge chapter after chapter of this book, because I hung on their every word and felt like I knew them intimately by the end. To have struggled so hard and for so long with religion, culture, family and sexuality for acceptance and love, while achieving so much, is inspirational and worthy of admiration. This is an amazing book and I highly recommend reading it.
Well written and relatable in many different ways, despite being such a unique story. Brought me to tears at multiple different points, both sad and happy. By far my favourite read of 2023 so far!
i haven’t yet found the right words to describe what this book did to me and maybe i never will, but my god. it is such a beautiful portrayal of how messy life can be and how patience & courage can take you such a long way <3 i want to give this man a hug, i know this book will stay with me for a long, long time.
God, this is a beautiful, moving, often painfully relatable book. A really important work of LGBTQ+ storytelling that I genuinely think will save lives.
Incredibly moving, insightful and uplifting memoir.
Zaidi writes about the sense of unbelonging he felt from growing up in a Muslim Pakistani family in a hostile England, from being a working class East Londoner at Oxford University, and from being a criminal barrister with brown skin, frequently mistaken for his clients. The only real sense of belonging he feels for a long time is within his religiously conservative family, which is why he struggles to come out to them as gay because he knows for certain that it will create a huge rift.
This is a compassionate and forgiving love letter to his parents, particularly his mother. He helped me to understand why his parents felt the need to cling to their traditional view of family. Not all of their attitudes are tied to religion or culture - they also stem from their experiences in a council house in 80s Britain in the face of economic and racial exclusion.
It deals with heavy subject matter, including bullying, racism, internalised homophobia and suicidal thoughts, but it's also uplifting and funny. He finds community with his friends, and hope in the changing attitudes of younger people. And he finds romantic love with the man who is now his husband.
To give an example of the humour in the book: Zaidi recounts an event for parents of LGBT South Asians which turns into a bragging contest about how successful their children are and his mum whispers to him "Shall I drop the Oxford bomb?".
Favourite quotes: "Although I had never yelled at my parents at that moment I wanted to. I held back, reminding myself how isolated they must feel. I'd left my community, but I had found another. They did not have this option. They couldn't tell some of their siblings, their living parents, nor their network of friends. I had an instinctive need to protect them, which made it difficult to get angry."
This book breaks your heart to bits, then repairs it like one of those Japanese bowls gold-glued back together. I've read quite a few stories of Mormon LGBTQ people coming to terms with their sexuality and religion, but the author of this book is Mulim, and it might be even harder than for Mormons. So much guilt, self-loathing, and pain. It's amazing that coming out to his family, finally, is what starts to heal his life. Unfortunately, they did not take it well, his mother especially. They did finally come around, but it was a painful story until then.
Here is a quote I liked, from his parents who finally accepted him as gay, and his partner.
“We have so little time with our loved ones. Why waste it? God created my son this way and it is me who had the problem, not him.’ I was stunned. My dad, noticing the tremble in my mum’s voice, shuffled closer and put his arm around her. ‘Children are not ours to disown,’ he said. ‘My son is not hurting anyone. He is a good person. I don’t care what anybody says. I know that Allah loves him like I do.”
I got this free ebook from zlibrary. Neither my local library, nor Overdrive had it.
When I saw the title of this memoir, I assumed it was ironic. A tongue in cheek sarcastic remark: “yeah of course I’m totally a dutiful boy, a dutiful gay Muslim boy”. I thought the whole book would show someone coming to terms with their true identity and letting go of their incompatible roots as part of the process of growing up. That’s usually what happens to people who go through what Mohsin went through. I’ve thought about similar things, of cutting off people close to me who I think won’t support me as I appear to change my beliefs and lifestyle.
What I didn’t expect was that the title, and the whole book, was totally sincere in its use of the adjective “dutiful”. Mohsin tries so hard to maintain his relationship with his parents, even through their apparent crisis in having a gay son. I suppose his story is a rarity. Nevertheless it’s important to hear a story about never giving up on family.
I wish this was available when I was a lot younger and struggling with my Identity and religion/culture!! Parts of this book were so relatable and made me feel like I wasn’t alone when reading through Mohsin’s journey compared to mine. I hope that future generations pick this book up and it empowers them to be their authentic selves and create their own successful stories like Mohsins.
Thank you Tara for lending me this book! So inspiring and beautifully written. Through humour, humility, and a good level of insight into the journeys and perspectives of other characters, Mohsin has managed to make his memoir accessible and captivating, when it could have been far more harrowing and frustrating. An important book for anyone and everyone to read.
The book is very well written. The reader can empathize with each and every emotion of the author.
The book takes us through the life of Mohsin as he grows up in a Pakistani home in London. It explains the struggles of growing up in a poor brown family. The troubles are compounded by sexuality of Mohsin.
There are so many dimensions that the author explored. He talked about religion, class, race, sexuality and family.
The book also explores different parts of Mohsin's life and his constant wish to bring them all together. He is an Oxford educated gay barrister Muslim with Pakistani heritage married to an Irish guy.
Must read!!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Read this if you want to become a better ally. A Dutiful Boy is a multi-dimensional story, cutting across issues of sexuality, religion, race, and class with remarkable depth.
This wasn’t on my radar. I had no idea this book was out in the world. It was recommended to be by my bestie. This was a great memoir, heartbreaking at times, interesting and eye opening at times. I found it relatable to some degree, putting aside the religious aspect of this memoir, I think many people would find it relatable. It’s about coming to terms with one’s identity, one’s sexual identity and where that fits in, in a world that says being gay is sinful, and makes you a bad person. It’s about reconciling one’s feelings, about acceptance, family obligation and expectations and living life to meet these expectations. Ultimately it’s about reaching a point of self-love, because to love someone else, you have to love yourself first. I highly recommend this.
“We have so little time with our loved ones. Why waste it? God created my son this way and it is me who had the problem, not him.’ I was stunned. My dad, noticing the tremble in my mum’s voice, shuffled closer and put his arm around her. ‘Children are not ours to disown,’ he said. ‘My son is not hurting anyone. He is a good person. I don’t care what anybody says. I know that Allah loves him like I do.”
This was a very important story to tell. I am wary of queer literature perpetually ending up as trauma porn. In that vein, this was a breath of fresh air. I am so very happy for Mohsin to get his story out and I truly admire his belief in the possibility of things to change. His passion for utilizing stories to spread hope for Muslim queer youth is visible in this memoir. That said, the latter half of the book, although deeply important to the author, lacked a hook for me as a reader. I found myself going through the pages as a chore. It was bound to be somber given the nature of the story but I feel Mohsin could have added more meat to it.
There were so many moments of almost poetic catharsis in Mohsin’s story, I had to keep reminding myself that this is someone’s truth. I hope that this book can serve as a modest pillar of hope and inspiration for people with a similar story to Mohsin and his family, whether they are right at the beginning of it, or somewhere in the middle. Thank you, Mohsin, for sharing your truth.