Central Asian Poetry on Womanhood and Liberation Part II3 min read
Patriarchy is deeply intertwined with Central Asian culture, which Jahan Taganova explores in her work, discussing the complex relationship between the state and female body. The separation of the body from personhood is something Jahan experiences firsthand and voices powerfully in her poetry, as explored in Part I of this series on Central Asian Poetry on Womanhood and Liberation. Part II offers a second insightful commentary by Ella Kerr encapsulating the turbulence of Jahan’s poem, “She isn’t welcome”.
Foreword by Ella Kerr: In her poem “She isn’t welcome,” Jahan continues to explore how persistent male expectations profoundly affect women’s mental health. Unruly female sexuality — real or otherwise imagined — is often framed as a threat to masculine pride in Turkmen culture. This logic traps women in a narrow performance of femininity: be modest, agreeable, and pleasant; don’t express anger or discomfort; and certainly don’t outshine men. If you’re perceived as too smart, too opinionated, or too assertive, you risk unsettling the very power structures that demand your silence. Anger, in particular, disqualifies you from being considered “nice.” So, the safest choice becomes emotional suppression — smiling constantly to avoid upsetting anyone, especially men.
In her poem “She isn’t welcome,” Jahan Taganova explores the devastating psychological toll of these expectations, offering a rare and courageous lens into the lived reality of systemic gendered oppression as a Central Asian woman. The poem dramatises the inner split many Central Asian women are forced to navigate: one version of the self is “graceful, soft-spoken” and compliant — the socially accepted ideal. The other is “furious and hurt,” a powerful force daring to express pain and rage, symbolised as a dragon.
This dragon — emotional, untamed, and real — is not welcomed. She is feared, silenced, and “buried in the farthest corners of your soul.” Women are expected to be feminine but devoid of emotion, especially in the presence of men. Feelings remind men of our shared humanity — and perhaps of their own emotional repression. When men are out of touch with their emotions or their own feminine nature, emotional expression by women becomes threatening. As a result, emotional conversations, especially in relationships, are often discouraged or avoided altogether.
The dragon metaphor carries both destructive and transformative power. But in this cultural context, any expression of feminine anger or pain is stigmatised, pathologised, and subdued — “tame her, medicate her.” The poem gives voice to the internalised violence that occurs when women are told that only palatable, pleasing versions of themselves are acceptable.
In “She isn’t welcome,” the emotional dissonance between acceptance and rejection, visibility and invisibility, is laid bare. Taganova’s work offers a raw, unflinching look at how the weight of male expectations does more than shape women’s social roles — it carves into their mental health, sense of worth, and very identity.
She isn’t welcome
The charming, the graceful, the one who pleases —
She is welcomed in homes, embraced by hearts.
Soft-spoken, adorned in warmth,
She moves like sun rays
Spilling through the cracks.
But the furious and hurt one —
That roars like a dragon in response,
Her rage a storm,
Shaking the ground beneath the feet,
Causing tremors into the cores,
Exhaling fire, scorching loving hearts to ashes,
Her words, sharp as razors, cut too deep.
She is not welcome at all costs.
Lock her away, chain her to silence,
Bury her in the farthest corners of your soul.
Tame her, medicate her,
Smooth the edges of her fury.
For a dragon’s wrath has no place in hearth or home.
Outro by Ella Kerr: Together, these poems offer a profound critique of gendered expectations in Turkmen society. They also introduce the concept of selfhood — a feminist framework in which women reposition themselves outside traditional cultural and gender norms. Taganova’s work points to the possibility of reclaiming the self as an act of liberation. Her poetic voice does more than describe oppression — it dares to imagine healing and resistance.
