Bismillah; Growing up in one of the deprived areas of London, there was an unspoken ceiling placed above us from a young age. We were constantly reminded, directly and indirectly, of how far we were expected to go. There were already certain jobs mapped out for us, certain paths deemed realistic, and anything beyond that was treated as unrealistic or unnecessary. Even when teachers and schools fought for us to be ambitious and encouraged us to aim higher, the reality outside the classroom told a different story. Being a minority in an environment where opportunities were not distributed equally made success feel distant, almost reserved for others. Over time, that limitation settles quietly in your mind and you begin to question what is possible for you. As I grew older, that feeling followed me into professional spaces. The barriers did not disappear, they simply changed form. Talent existed. Ambition existed. But access did not. I saw capable, driven Muslims struggling to find spaces where they could grow without compromising who they were. Success often came with conditions. How much of yourself you needed to dilute. What parts of your identity were acceptable and what parts needed to stay hidden. I was not angry. I was observant. I became deeply aware of how systems can unintentionally exclude people who do not fit a default mould. That awareness stayed with me for years. I moved through work and community spaces carrying a quiet frustration that I could not yet name. I saw people with skills being overlooked. People with values being forced to choose between their faith and their livelihood. I also saw how disconnected the Ummah was professionally. Incredible organisations, businesses and initiatives existed, but they were scattered. There was no central place that truly understood Muslim needs while still operating with professional standards. The idea for Ummah Hire did not come from a moment of confidence. It came from a moment of clarity. I did not have a background in tech. I did not know how to build platforms or write code. What I had was vision, lived experience and an understanding of a problem that was being normalised for too long. I started with research. Speaking to people. Listening. Observing patterns. Testing ideas. That first phase alone created traction, not because it was polished, but because it was honest.