Divya Delhi:  According to my grandma, "The land beneath your feet is your spine—lose it, and you're spineless." Her words sink in today as she kneaded the dough with earth-worn hands, seeing the Waqf Board remove that spine from women like my friend Sameera, a Muslim widow fighting its avarice. The Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025, passed by Modi last week is a reckoning. It's a chance for Muslim women like us to stand tall after decades of male-dominated boards and fake "secular" pledges. The Waqf Board is enormous—870,000 properties, 940,000 acres worth over a lakh crore rupees, third only to the Indian Railways and Armed Forces. The laudable goal is to fund mosques, schools, and hospitals. But investigate: 70% of that land is lost to encroachments, lawsuits, or opacity. Entire villages, like Tamil Nadu's Thiruchenthurai with its 1,500-year-old temple, are claimed overnight, destroying families. Women like Sameera suffer. She lost her spouse in 2019, leaving her a Meerut house as her anchor. Then the Waqf Board intervened with a dubious "historical claim." No proof, no talk—just observation. She's still in court, selling bangles to pay lawyers, parenting two kids on grit three years later. "They don't see us," she said over lukewarm tea. Why would? Never had a say.