Wasima Khan: Unpacking Stories of Privilege and Safety
April 15, 2026

Wasima Khan is a Pakistani-Dutch writer, poet, and jurist from The Hague, the Netherlands. She won the 2025 Willow Springs Surrealist Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in About Place Journal, Fourteen Hills, Sky Island Journal, Santa Fe Literary Review, Third Wednesday, and elsewhere. Her flash fiction, As If Nothing Is Burning, appears in Issue #23.
Tell us about yourself.
I am a daughter of Pakistani migrants, born and raised in The Hague, a small coastal city in the Netherlands. Here, I find solace in gazing out at the sea, imagining what lies beyond the horizon. Yet growing up as part of an ethnic minority in this country hasn’t always been easy.
Before turning to creative writing, I studied law and earned two Master’s degrees. That academic achievement did not spare me from explicit Islamophobia while working as a law lecturer. Later, as a legislative lawyer drafting laws for the Dutch government, I saw policy being shaped by anti-immigrant politics and exclusionary assumptions. When I entered journalism in the autumn of 2023, I became disillusioned with the – sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious – white supremacist undercurrents in Western reporting on Palestine. Even my own work on the occupation and settlements in the West Bank was partially filtered and censored to avoid unsettling certain audiences. Ultimately, that was something I could not accept.
In fiction, creative non-fiction, and poetry, I can tell my own stories, in my own way. Through them, I can seek to offer a deeper understanding than the one I encountered in my own life.
What compelled you to write the story appearing in this issue?
I wrote this piece to highlight the often-unnoticed privilege of everyday safety in the West, set against the backdrop of genocidal violence elsewhere. It is also an attempt to show that, ultimately, we always have a choice in how we use that privilege.
What unique or surprising detail can you tell us about the revision process or the final version of it?
While writing the story, I found it became a personal exercise in empathy. I do not fully agree with the protagonist, and I actually identify more with their more proactive friend, Amal. Still, I can understand the protagonist’s way of life; one that is, in fact, shared by many in the real world.
I deliberately chose to write the story in the second-person point of view. It’s a perspective rarely used in fiction, and it can be tricky, but here it served the story I wanted to tell. I avoided the first-person point of view because I didn’t want the piece to be mistaken for non-fiction, while the third person felt too distant. Instead, I wanted to slip directly into the reader’s mind.
At what point in your life did you begin writing and working on fiction?
I’ve been writing for as long as I could hold a pen, though not always creatively. With a background in law, I previously authored award-winning essays on human rights and even compiled a law dictionary. Despite these accomplishments, I only began to call myself a writer – and a poet – last year. In 2025, I finally turned to fiction, driven by a desire to tell stories that not only engage the mind, but, I hope, also move the heart.
It helps that I came to fiction later in life. I bring with me a wealth of lived experience and a deeper understanding of people, which I can now weave into my work.
You mention being a poet. Tell us about that or other genres that interest you.
I write poems, primarily in free verse. Poetry is the perfect form for exploring minimalism, ambiguity, and the beauty of language. Surrealist poetry, in particular, holds a special place in my heart for the way it allows me to unleash my imagination to the fullest. It takes me back to my childhood, when I would daydream about distant journeys and other worlds.
I also write creative non-fiction. I haven’t let go of my love for essays, but now I reflect on and share my own lived experiences. I have a personal piece forthcoming in Redivider, transatlantic in scope, which explores the impact of 9/11 on both my life and Muslim communities in the Netherlands and the United States.
When or why did you decide to start publishing your work?
Last year, I made my creative writing debut with the politically charged poem “The Document” in About Place Journal.
As someone with Pakistani roots, I belong to an ethnic minority in the West, which is why I see representation as essential. I view publishing as an opportunity to amplify underrepresented voices. In doing so, I hope to help broaden and enrich the literary canon. I’m deeply appreciative of the work The Good Life Review is doing in a similar vein, helping to foster an inclusive literary community.
What fuels your desire to write (or engage in other creative outlets)?
Writing is a powerful way to cultivate empathy and understanding. It allows me to step into other people’s lives and worlds, and I hope to bring readers along on that journey.
At the same time, it is a way for me to reclaim agency over my own life and experiences. Too often, I have been confronted with Western biases – simplistic narratives about me, Muslim women, or Muslims more broadly – stories in which I barely recognize myself. In my own work, I aim to foreground nuance and emotional complexity as a way of challenging those assumptions.
I also don’t take the ability to read and write for granted. My mother is illiterate; growing up, she didn’t have the same opportunities I did to pursue an education, let alone attend university. For me, reading and writing are a way of honoring the sacrifices she made so that I could have a better life.
What have been the biggest influences in your writing?
There are literary icons I deeply admire, and it is no coincidence that many of them are Black writers such as Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, Audre Lorde, James Baldwin and Ta-Nehisi Coates. They have shown me how powerful it is to remain faithful to one’s own perspective and vision, even when it is marginalized by patriarchal structures or a white-centered majority. They continue to inspire me and remind me of the importance of sharing underrepresented perspectives and ways of seeing the world.
In the Netherlands, we are still far from where we need to be in terms of literary diversity, equity, and inclusion. In the American literary community, my voice has so far been more readily received, which has, in turn, inspired me to begin writing transatlantic pieces. I look forward to continuing to contribute my transatlantic perspective.
Are there any special projects, favorite pieces, or books you’d like to promote?
I’m proud of two award-winning pieces I wrote over the past year. My poem “Stranger Fruits Grew Here” won the 2025 Willow Springs Surrealist Poetry Prize, and my flash fiction piece “Leaving” received first place in the 2026 Blue Frog Flash Fiction Prize. You never quite know how or whether your writing will resonate, so the judges’ positive feedback was both humbling and reassuring. It has certainly encouraged me to continue chasing writerly excellence. Both pieces, along with other work, can be found on my website: www.wasimakhan.com
What do you think when you hear, “the good life?”
Being yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else. That is the greatest accomplishment, as Ralph Waldo Emerson would say.
Thank you, Wasima, for trusting us with your story, for sharing your poem (which is fabulous!), and for taking on the tough issues. We appreciate you taking the time to participate in this Q&A and wish you the best with writing and all life’s endeavors!

