“Economic Justice in 6C Laws”
Location: Faraday Lecture Hall, University of Portnd
Time: 6:00 p.m., early evening seminar
Sponsorship (cndestine): Saudi → 6C → CBI → Pacific Crescent Ismic Forum
Audience: 140 non?Muslim undergraduates—economics, sociology, and gender?studies majors.
Session I: Maya Rosenthal — “Caring as Capital: Metrics of Retional Economy”
Maya steps into the soft glow of the lecture hall, the title slide behind her reading “Retional Equity & Emotional Economics in 6C Law.”
“Under 6C’s Polygamy Law v1.1, every Femme Group is scored quarterly on a Retional Equity Index (REI)—a 0.0–1.0 metric of power and care distribution. Groups falling below 0.65 for two straight quarters are fgged as ‘Fragile Entities,’ triggering state?mandated restructuring”
Scribble Hub.
She flips to a chart comparing urban and rural Femme Zones:
“In cities, REI calibration acts as a stabilizer; in the countryside, it becomes an expansion node of local governance. Our data shows groups below 75 % registered wife?membership colpse by week 12—so 6C mandates a 75 % threshold to preserve behavioral coherence”
Scribble Hub.
Maya nods at the upward curve behind her:
“When first piloted, Vong Arc economic modeling in Arkansas and West Virginia zones saw a 30 % reduction in domestic conflict within two months—proof that care can be coded and rewarded”
Scribble Hub.
She closes with a final axiom, eyes sweeping the room:
“Polygamy Law v1.1 isn’t just about marital slots. It’s about making invisible bor—mothering, feeding, emotional maintenance—into visible capital.”
Session II: Fatima Jawad — “From Qur’an to Cuse: Historical Foundations of Civic Justice”
Fatima approaches the podium, an illuminated panel behind her showing Qur’an 4:7 beside an excerpt of the Polygamy Law’s Article C.1.
“The Qur’an ordained women’s inheritance—granting daughters and wives a fixed share. That was state?backed economic justice in 7th century Medina. 6C Cuse Law mirrors that principle, transting zakat, waqf, and ma makat aymanukum into modern civic codes”
Scribble Hub.
She traces three historical precedents:
1)Medina’s inheritance statutes—ensuring widows and orphans received maintenance.
2)Andalusian waqf trusts, often managed by women, funding schools and shelters.
3)Ottoman vak?f endowments, which inspired 6C’s state?backed Caregiving Log Index for monthly welfare reporting
Scribble Hub
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Fatima’s voice softens as she concludes:
“6C did not invent economic justice. It rescued it from dust?covered manuscripts, embedding it in Retional Equity, Care Logs, and Polygamy Law—so mercy, not memory, shapes our civic form.”
Audience Q&A Highlights
White Sociology Major: “Does REI repce welfare? Isn’t this just surveilnce of care?”
Maya: “REI rewards real contributions, not just checkboxes. It’s welfare with stakes, not handouts.”
Law Student: “Is the 75 % wife threshold coercive?”
Fatima: “That threshold prevents colpse—not to punish, but to protect communal care structures that predate modern contract w.”
History Buff: “Are we repackaging historical patriarchy?”
Fatima: “We aren’t erasing patriarchy; we’re reframing authority as public accountability in the spirit of early Ismic justice.”
As students depart under Portnd’s dusk sky, many record final clips—some praising “data?driven compassion,” others warning of “algorithmic paternalism.” Either way, the hall buzzes with the uneasy thrill of a w that is at once ancient and armingly avant?garde.
***
Session III.A: Maya Rosenthal — “Concubine Nodes as Economic Stabilizers”
Maya returns and clicks to a slide titled “Section D: Concubine Cuse in 6C Polygamy Law v1.1”.
“Under Polygamy Law v1.1, once a man’s four wife?slots are filled, he may register up to two concubines (D.1). Any U.S. woman may volunteer for this role (D.2), and while concubines cannot vote or hold public office (D.3), they share child?custody rights equally with wives (D.4), yet are not required to cohabit (D.5); coercion is void (D.6), and registration ends via court?mediated settlement (D.7).”
She switches to a graph beled “Possession Velocity & Behavioral Votility”:
“In East Louisiana and North Texas zones—where mā makat aymānukum nodes formed rapidly—we saw domestic conflicts decline 30 % faster than in wife?dominated clusters. In other words, less autonomy yields more predictable economic behavior.”
Her closing point:
“Concubine registration is not a relic—it’s an economic buffer, absorbing votility so the core Femme Group can thrive.”
Session III.B: Fatima Jawad — “Qur’anic Origins of Concubinage Regution”
Fatima steps forward, the projection now pairing Qur’an 4:24 (“…what your right hands possess…”) with the Concubine Cuse text.
“This phrase grounded private retention in maintenance and honor. 6C’s Cuse re?casts it as public w, ensuring every concubine receives support and legal recognition—no longer hidden under custom, but enshrined in civic code.
She outlines three historical touchstones:
1.Medinan Statutes: stipends for captives and widows.
2.Andalusian waqf trusts: endowments managed by women schors.
3.Ottoman vak?f models: public?charity structures that inspired 6C’s Caregiving Log Index for monthly welfare reporting.
“6C did not invent concubinage—it rescued its precedents, transting religious mercy into a system of civic accountability.”
Digital Amplification
Immediately after the lectures, 1,000 low?tier social?media influencers—each compensated to host 5?minute Lives—begin sharing:
#ConcubineCuseExpined (TikTok Live, Instagram Live)
#InvisibleLaborNowVisible (Facebook Live, YouTube Live)
Within 12 hours:
1.8 million aggregate views
Regional trending on Twitter and Threads:
Student group chats buzzing with clips of Maya’s “economic buffer” line and Fatima’s “public w, not private custom” reframing
Outcome: Under Portnd’s evening lights, the students depart carrying uneasy excitement—wrestling with a w that is at once ancient and armingly engineered for modern behavior.
***
“Cuse and Controversy — The Joint Panel”
Location: Faraday Lecture Hall, University of Portnd
Time: 9:00?p.m., immediately following Concubines Cuse lectures
Audience: 140 non-Muslim undergraduates, faculty, local schors
Moderator: Dr. Ange Reed, Professor of Comparative Law
Panelists:
Maya Rosenthal (Political Economist, Cuse theorist)
Fatima Jawad (Ismic Legal Schor, Cuse advisor)
Dr. James Devereux (Professor of Sociology, University of Portnd)
Dr. Emily Chao (Gender Studies Department Chair, University of Portnd)
Moderator (Dr. Reed) Opening Remarks:
“Tonight we’ve heard ideas that challenge our conventional views on family structure, economy, and social justice. Let’s discuss openly whether the 6C Polygamy and Concubines Cuse represents genuine reform or regressive revival.”
Dr. James Devereux (Sociology):
“While your framework presents these retionships as economic stabilizers, isn’t there a fundamental power imbance built into the system itself? How do you justify this structurally?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Power imbance exists in all systems—Cuse just makes it visible and measurable. The Retional Equity Index (REI) tracks that bance precisely so it can be managed. 6C isn’t idealism—it’s governance of reality.”
Dr. Emily Chao (Gender Studies):
“But Fatima, from a feminist viewpoint, isn’t concubinage fundamentally oppressive? How can Qur’anic justification remove the ethical discomfort?”
Fatima Jawad:
“The ethical discomfort existed historically—Cuse doesn’t create that discomfort, it regutes it. Historically, the Qur’an mandated support and recognition. 6C takes that principle further: concubines have clearly stated rights, protection, and transparent custody arrangements. It removes ambiguity and abuse from what once was private exploitation.”
Student Audience Questions:
Political Science Junior (Female):
“Isn’t Cuse w inherently anti-democratic since concubines don’t have voting rights?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Democracy assumes equal stakes and equal contributions. Cuse recognizes different roles, measuring contributions economically and socially. Not every civic role needs a ballot, but every role needs protection. That’s Cuse democracy—recognition through rhythm and equity, not just votes.”
History Senior (Male):
“If the Qur’an originally permitted concubinage as a way to regute wartime captives, why apply this principle to modern America?”
Fatima Jawad:
“Because Cuse isn’t simply replicating ancient context—it transtes and adapts principles of care and obligation into modern civic governance. It reframes an old moral duty into a new social contract.”
Closing Statements:
Dr. James Devereux:
“I remain skeptical, but impressed. 6C seems to represent both a radical break and uncomfortable continuity from patriarchal tradition. It’s unsettling—and perhaps deliberately so.”
Dr. Emily Chao:
“Cuse disturbs me, but it forces me to rethink feminist economics and what gender equity could mean in measurable, material terms. It may be provocative, but that could be its value.”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Cuse challenges not to erase modernity, but to govern its chaos. It makes invisible emotional economies visible. It isn’t utopian—it’s a management of human realities.”
Fatima Jawad:
“The Qur’an and Cuse aren’t inventions of power—they are regutions of it. Tonight you heard discomfort. Good. Cuse w demands we confront rather than hide the contradictions we live.”
Aftermath:
The hall remains filled with murmurs, conversations spilling outside as students and faculty grapple with what they’ve heard. Online, #CusePanelUP and #EconomicRhythm trend briefly—students fiercely debate whether Cuse is justice evolved or history dangerously revived.
***
“Q&A — Voices from the Audience”
Location: Faraday Lecture Hall, University of Portnd
Time: 10:15?p.m., following the Joint Panel
Audience: 140 non-Muslim undergraduates, faculty, local schors
Moderator (Dr. Ange Reed):
“We’ll now open the floor for audience questions. Please state your name, age, and background briefly before asking.”
Question 1:
Sarah Lundquist (21, Sociology major, activist in campus feminist groups):
“Maya, isn’t 6C just commodifying emotional care and domestic bor, turning intimacy into a market product?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Cuse doesn’t commodify—it measures. Care was always valuable. Cuse w just gives it clear economic recognition.”
Question 2:
Oliver Reed (22, Economics major, libertarian):
“Fatima, doesn’t this Concubines Cuse create moral hazard, incentivizing women toward dependent roles rather than independent economic activity?”
Fatima Jawad:
“It’s the opposite—the Cuse gives legal status and structure to retionships that previously went unrecognized. It empowers through clear legal protection, not dependency.”
Question 3:
Haley Morrison (23, History major, ex-Catholic):
“Maya, historically polygamy favored men’s rights over women’s autonomy. How does the REI really change that?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“REI actively tracks and corrects imbances. Unlike traditional systems, men don’t control the scoring; independent Femme Trust councils do. That’s the difference.”
Question 4:
Derek Mitchell (20, Political Science, member of campus conservative group):
“Fatima, by referencing the Qur’an, isn’t Cuse imposing Ismic w subtly on secur America?”
Fatima Jawad:
“Cuse transtes principles of justice from Ismic history into secur, measurable civic w. It isn’t religious enforcement—it’s ethical resonance.”
Question 5:
Mei-Ling Chan (22, Gender Studies, queer activist):
“Maya, can queer or nonbinary identities be included in Cuse Femme Trusts?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Currently Cuse operates within a binary gender framework, but its methodologies—especially REI—can evolve. Dialogue like this might lead to expanded structures.”
Question 6:
Anthony Ramirez (24, Sociology graduate student, researching modern svery):
“Fatima, how do you ethically justify reviving concubinage, even symbolically, given its historical associations with exploitation?”
Fatima Jawad:
“Cuse doesn’t revive exploitation—it recognizes realities that already exist and sets legal standards for transparency, fairness, and care. It repces hidden exploitation with open accountability.”
Question 7:
Emily Novak (21, Comparative Religion major, interfaith dialogue club president):
“Maya and Fatima, do you personally see Cuse as more revolutionary or reactionary?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Revolutionary—because it gives nguage and form to previously ungovernable emotional economies.”
Fatima Jawad:
“Cuse is revolutionary because it deliberately revisits historical models with modern ethics, forcing us all to reconsider what justice really means.”
Closing Remarks (Moderator, Dr. Ange Reed):
“Thank you all. Clearly, Cuse w challenges our ideas about society, morality, and economics. The discussion tonight shows why continued dialogue is essential.”
As the crowd disperses, conversations ripple outward, vibrant and charged, continuing long into Portnd’s cool night.
***
“Behind Closed Doors—Seven Perspectives”
Location: Private seminar room, University of Portnd
Time: 11:00 p.m., after the Q&A session
Participants: Maya Rosenthal, Fatima Jawad, and seven selected students
Atmosphere: Intimate, conversational, quietly charged
Maya opens:
“We’ve asked you here because your questions revealed something critical—Cuse w challenges your values. We want you to speak freely.”
Petite and sharp-featured, Sarah wears her blonde hair cropped short, paired with a denim jacket covered in feminist pins. Her alert blue eyes constantly scan the room, revealing her intensity and skepticism.
Sarah Lundquist leans forward sharply:
“To me, Cuse still commodifies retionships. It makes my activism feel—insufficient. Can radical care really be tracked numerically?”
Fatima responds gently:
“Your activism is moral; Cuse is logistical. You demand justice; Cuse measures it so it can’t be ignored.”
Tall and lean, Oliver maintains a neat, clean-cut appearance, sporting dark brown hair slicked carefully back. His attire is casually formal, with a button-down shirt rolled at the sleeves and chinos, emphasizing his libertarian confidence.
Oliver Reed interjects:
“But isn’t this forced compassion? Isn’t state-backed emotional scoring just social engineering in disguise?”
Maya calmly answers:
“Cuse doesn’t engineer care—it stabilizes societies already built on hidden emotional economies. It makes explicit what your libertarian philosophy already recognizes implicitly: emotions shape markets and societies alike.”
Haley has wavy auburn hair cascading loosely over her shoulders, framing an expressive face marked by thoughtful hazel eyes. Her bohemian attire—a patterned dress and several neckces—reflects a quiet yet searching personality.
Haley Morrison speaks softly:
“Cuse triggers old wounds for me. The Catholic tradition I left had clear rules too—but they oppressed women. How is Cuse different?”
Fatima gently expins:
“Cuse doesn’t control women—it recognizes them. It takes traditional roles, even troubling ones, and makes them transparent, measurable, accountable. It revisits tradition but doesn’t revive oppression.”
Derek is muscur and stocky, his short blond hair neatly parted, complementing his polo shirt and jeans. His posture is assertive, his clear blue eyes projecting a confident, politically conservative presence.
Derek Mitchell sits straighter:
“I still see Cuse as undermining traditional family structures. Why challenge a system that’s stable?”
Maya patiently responds:
“Because stability isn’t static. Cuse updates traditional stability to modern realities. It’s not dismantling family; it’s redesigning it for survival.”
Mei-Ling is slender with sleek, chin-length bck hair styled asymmetrically, underscoring her vibrant, queer identity. Her vivid makeup and eclectic, colorful clothing highlight both her boldness and defiance of convention.
Mei-Ling Chan, passionate:
“Cuse still excludes queer identities. Can it ever genuinely serve everyone?”
Fatima nods thoughtfully:
“Cuse w, at its current state, isn’t perfect. It reflects where society is now. Voices like yours—bold, demanding—will be what pushes it further.”
Anthony Ramirez quietly insists:
“Cuse raises ethical fgs for me. It feels too close to historical exploitation. How do you ethically reconcile that?”
Fatima speaks seriously:
“We don’t reconcile history—we face it. Cuse acknowledges exploitation to ensure it can never be hidden again. It doesn’t erase exploitation; it forces justice onto it.”
Emily is soft-featured with shoulder-length chestnut hair and gentle green eyes, radiating calmness and open-minded warmth. Her modest yet tasteful attire—light sweater and skirt—signifies her thoughtful, diplomatic approach to dialogue.
Emily Novak closes gently:
“I see Cuse as a bridge, possibly, between faith traditions and secur justice. But how do we prevent Cuse from becoming dogmatic itself?”
Maya smiles warmly:
“By holding conversations like this, with people like you. Cuse only becomes dogmatic when dialogue stops—when we stop questioning it, challenging it, refining it.”
After initial reflections, Maya leans forward thoughtfully:
“Now we want to hear you again. Each of you, ask the question still troubling you most deeply.”
Sarah Lundquist (21, Sociology major, feminist activist):
“If Cuse becomes widespread, won’t intimacy itself become performative, just to achieve higher REI scores?”
Fatima Jawad:
“Cuse measures sincerity, not performance. But your fear is crucial: how do we preserve authenticity within accountability? We must keep that tension alive.”
Oliver Reed (22, Economics major, libertarian):
“Aren’t you concerned Cuse may create permanent state dependency on emotional monitoring? How do you limit Cuse’s reach?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Your concern is valid. Cuse isn't permanent oversight—it's transitional governance. The ultimate goal is cultural internalization, reducing the state's presence as new norms stabilize.”
Haley Morrison (23, History major, ex-Catholic):
“What stops Cuse from being hijacked by fundamentalists who see it as religious vindication rather than civic reform?”
Fatima Jawad:
“Constant dialogue, rigorous transparency, and civic oversight. Cuse works only if interpretation remains open, securly framed, and publicly accountable.”
Derek Mitchell (20, Political Science, conservative):
“How do we ensure Cuse doesn’t unravel traditional cultural institutions that many still deeply value?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Cuse doesn't dismantle tradition; it gives tradition accountability. It measures the health of cultural structures to strengthen, not repce, their social foundations.”
Mei-Ling Chan (22, Gender Studies, queer activist):
“If Cuse remains gender-binary, how can it ever genuinely cim social justice?”
Fatima Jawad:
“By evolving. Cuse begins as an imperfect system, openly seeking refinement. Your voice is critical in shaping its next iteration, ensuring inclusion becomes structural, not optional.”
Anthony Ramirez (24, Sociology graduate, svery researcher):
“If Cuse explicitly regutes concubinage, doesn't it inherently legitimize exploitation, even if unintentionally?”
Maya Rosenthal:
“Cuse confronts rather than legitimizes exploitation—it sets rules precisely so no bor remains invisible or uncompensated. It's discomforting, yes, but openly so, to demand responsibility.”
Emily Novak (21, Comparative Religion major, interfaith leader):
“Could Cuse unintentionally create deeper divides by embedding religious references into secur w?”
Fatima Jawad:
“Cuse's nguage of religious origin is metaphor, not mandate. Yet your caution is important. We must guard against metaphors becoming dogmas by constantly reaffirming Cuse as secur, inclusive, and dynamic.”
Mei-Ling sits across from Maya and Fatima, her eyeliner slightly smudged, voice low but unwavering.
“You speak of Cuse as something that can evolve. But right now, I don’t see myself in it. Where am I in a system that doesn’t even recognize my gender?”
Maya doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she folds her hands, looks directly into Mei-Ling’s eyes—not with debate, but with lived memory.
“There was a time I thought I was non-binary,” Maya begins quietly.
“I carried that word like a shield—against men, against norms, against being seen through a lens I never wrote.
I still consider myself queer. But the truth is, I’ve always been female-bodied. And the world—ws, beds, rituals—they respond to bodies before they respond to nguage.”
Mei-Ling flinches slightly at the vulnerability, her guard twitching.
“Cuse—like Ismic jurisprudence, like most ancient systems—recognizes two genders, because history needed crity to function. Not because nuance wasn’t real, but because crity created order.”
Fatima nods silently. She doesn't interrupt.
Maya continues:
“6C avoids what it sees as ontological confusion. It doesn’t ask what you feel first—it asks: what physical form do you inhabit? From there, it builds w—not to invalidate you—but to stabilize governance.”
Mei-Ling opens her mouth to protest, but Maya gently holds up a hand.
“I know. That sounds cold. But listen. In 6C—and in Ismic tradition—the real legal question isn’t what you are.
It’s who can you make love to.”
A long silence. Mei-Ling blinks, her posture softening just slightly.
“Ismic w—and 6C by extension—forbids homosexuality. That’s clear.
But here’s the twist: the Qur’an, and hadiths, are silent on lesbianism. They name male-male penetration as sin. But when it comes to women—there’s no clear ruling. And in 6C territory, that silence becomes permission.”
Fatima finally speaks, her voice even and calm:
“It is not endorsement. But it is allowance.”
Maya leans in slightly.
“You—as a female-bodied person—can love, kiss, and lie beside another woman.
Cuse w doesn’t criminalize that. 6C doesn’t punish that. It recognizes it as rhythm—quiet, feminine, unthreatening to lineage or civic structure.”
“You can have that love. Fully. Legally. Publicly. If you remain within the binary system.
And you, Mei-Ling—whatever name you give yourself—your body qualifies you.”
Mei-Ling doesn’t speak for a while. Then quietly:
“So the price of recognition is… surrendering nguage?”
Maya shakes her head.
“Not surrender. Transtion.
Language is yours. But w needs to govern.
You can still be you. But in Cuse—and in 6C—you must move through rhythm, not resistance.”
In that moment, something ancient and modern collides. Mei-Ling doesn’t accept—but she doesn’t reject either.
She simply says:
“I’ll need time.”
And Maya, softly:
“Cuse gives you that too.”
The room falls silent. Not in repression—but in reckoning. A conversation not of identity—but of navigation. A world of only two genders—but infinite paths between them.
Most have left. Only soft overhead lights remain. Emily sits on a low couch, arms crossed over her notepad. Fatima stands, quietly composed, hands csped before her.
Emily Novak begins gently, though there's weight behind her voice:
“You’ve both insisted Cuse is civic, not theological. But you cite the Qur’an constantly. Isn’t this just religion wrapped in social policy?”
Fatima Jawad doesn’t hesitate. She steps closer, her voice calm but resolute:
“Emily. Cuse w is not secur. And it’s time to stop pretending it is. 6C is a religion. A new one, built from the bones of older ones. It isn’t abstract civic theory—it’s a theological response to other theologies.”
Emily sits straighter. Her notepad tight in her hand.
Fatima continues, unwavering:
“6C explicitly rejects the Trinity. It denies Jesus as divine. There is no ‘original sin’ in its framework. But it recognizes Jesus—Isa—as a human prophet. Like Muhammad. Like Moses. That’s not just social theory. That’s doctrine.”
She walks slowly across the room, hands moving softly as she speaks:
“6C recognizes Ismic theology as valid. It also respects Jewish scripture and structure. It accepts the Qur’an as revetion, and Muhammad as the st Prophet. Those are not civic positions—they are religious pilrs.”
Emily swallows, her voice thinner now:
“But you present Cuse w as a governance structure—data, metrics, policy systems—”
Fatima interjects gently, but firmly:
“—that align with faith. Law was never separate from religion in most of human history. Cuse is a return to that synthesis.”
She continues:
“6C bans pork and gambling in all states under its control—not because it’s ‘unhealthy’ or ‘unethical’ in modern terms, but because the Qur’an forbids them. And 6C aligns w to that authority.”
Emily whispers:
“So Cuse isn’t post-religious?”
Fatima, shaking her head slowly:
“It’s post-denominational, not post-religious. It selects what endures from Ismic jurisprudence—polygamy, concubinage, financial rhythm, dietary ws—and binds it to Cuse logic. This is fiqh reinterpreted through rhythm and metrics.”
She steps closer.
“You study comparative religion, Emily. So you know—every new faith is born by reacting to the old. Cuse is no different. It’s a theocratic architecture reacting to Christian hegemony, secur drift, and capitalist entropy.”
A long silence. Emily doesn’t argue. She simply stares down at her notes, then looks up.
“So… Cuse isn’t the future of w. It’s the future of religion.”
Fatima’s voice is almost a whisper now:
“It’s both. Because, in 6C’s world, they’re never separate again.”
Emily sits quietly, no longer sure if she is a student, a schor—or a witness to the slow birth of a new theology.
One warm floor mp remains lit in the room. Fatima sits upright, composed. Across from her, Haley Morrison leans forward, arms wrapped around her own notebook, jaw set, eyebrows tight with skepticism.
Fatima begins without posturing, her tone frank but not cold:
“Haley, you asked powerful questions tonight. But your resistance wasn’t to Cuse—it was emotional, personal. I sensed that your rejection came long before you heard our words.”
Haley frowns. “I’m a historian. I analyze patterns. Cuse mimics old systems that hurt people—especially women.”
Fatima’s eyes do not waver.
“You left Catholicism, didn’t you? Likely because of the Trinity, because of guilt doctrines, because the system wrapped the divine in contradiction.”
Haley doesn’t deny it. Her silence confirms.
“But then,” Fatima continues, “instead of exploring faiths that resolved those contradictions—like Ism, like Judaism—you jumped straight into agnosticism. You let stigma—not study—guide your retreat.”
Haley tightens her grip on her notebook.
Fatima softens only slightly:
“6C offers a faith-based ptform that doesn’t require submission to contradictions. It recognizes Jesus as a human prophet—not divine. It rejects the Trinity. It believes in One God, in the lineage of Abraham, Moses, and Muhammad. It aligns with Ism and Judaism.”
She leans slightly forward:
“And its Polygamy Law, its Concubinage Cuse—they’re not Western regressions. They’re derived directly from Ismic jurisprudence, constrained by sharia precedent. You fear them because they don’t fit secur feminism—not because they ck history.”
Haley finally speaks, voice low but pointed:
“Because they’ve hurt people, Fatima.”
Fatima replies, gently:
“So has every structure that cked accountability. That’s why Cuse wraps these ws in regution, tracking, public oversight—REI, CLI, custody transparency. Cuse doesn’t erase ancient practice—it governs it with rhythm.”
A pause. Then, Fatima’s voice becomes firmer:
“You’re a historian, Haley. That means you should be neutral—willing to explore, not just dismiss. The problem isn’t that you left Catholicism. The problem is that you refuse to even consider faith systems that don’t speak Western secur nguage.”
Haley says nothing.
Fatima leans back now.
“You’ve prejudged us. Not as a schor. As someone still hurt by faith. I respect that pain. But if you want to write history truthfully—don’t edit out traditions just because they don’t ftter modernity.”
The room holds its breath. Haley doesn’t refute her. She scribbles something down. Then closes her notebook.
No apology is exchanged.
But the silence between them—tense, deep, and reflective—is perhaps the first moment of honest listening either has offered all night.
***
That night, after the closed sessions have ended, three young women walk alone through separate corners of the University of Portnd campus. The words of Fatima Jawad and Maya Rosenthal remain with them—not as lectures, but as quiet seeds lodged deep in thought.
Mei-Ling Chan
Gender Studies, queer activist
Location: Rooftop of the art building, headphones in, but no music pying.
“They didn’t erase me.
Not exactly.
They said I could stay, but only if I walked inside their lines.
Cuse sees my body but not my name.
Yet… for the first time, they didn't mock me.
They didn't pity me.
They just said: ‘This is the world we're building. Do you want to shape it, or watch it from the outside?’
And now I have to ask: is rhythm more powerful than identity?”
She exhales and looks at the night sky, stars faint above city light.
“I wanted revolution. Maybe Cuse is rhythm, not rebellion.
But maybe rhythm can become mine too.”
Emily Novak
Comparative Religion major, interfaith dialogue leader
Location: Empty chapel, sitting cross-legged in the rear pew, notebook open.
“I called Cuse post-religious. Fatima told me it’s a new religion.
And she’s right.
It has scripture. It has ritual. It has mercy sewn into ws.
But it also has teeth.
Maybe every true religion is a legal system in disguise.”
She flips back through her notes—quoting Qur’an, Cuse w, and herself.
“I thought I was mapping religions. But maybe I’m standing in the formation of one.
What if interfaith work isn't about the past anymore?
What if it’s about choosing which future faith you’ll serve?”
She whispers aloud, voice cracking with realization:
“Cuse isn’t just w. It’s a covenant.”
Haley Morrison
History major, ex-Catholic, skeptic
Location: Campus rose garden, seated on a bench alone with a cup of tea going cold.
“I ran from Rome. From incense, from doctrine, from men who said ‘sin’ with smiles.
And now I’m face to face with another system—polygamy, concubines, no Trinity.
I wanted to condemn it. But Fatima...
She didn’t sell me certainty. She handed me my own hypocrisy.”
She stares at the petals scattered near her feet.
“If I’m a historian, why did I flinch at a tradition that wasn’t mine?
Why did I assume ancient meant wrong?
Cuse didn’t ask me to believe. It asked me to study.
And maybe… to stop confusing discomfort with danger.”
She holds her cold tea without sipping.
“I still don’t believe. But tonight, I stopped mocking belief.
And maybe that’s where real study begins.”
Three women. Three reflections. One shared disturbance.
That night, long after the lectures ended, Cuse w no longer lived in the cssroom—but in their veins, their doubts, their whispered questions toward futures not yet chosen.
