Let’s reconstruct a hypothetical, yet typical, scenario that drives searches for "ustazah kene romen."

The Clip: A 45-second TikTok. An Ustazah, known for her fiery sermons about keeping ghirah (protective jealousy), is caught on a hot mic at a wedding. She is heard whispering to a friend: "Ish, pengantin lelaki tu hensem. Rasa macam nak romen je." (Wow, the groom is handsome. Feels like I want to get romantic.)

The Reaction:

This is the literal definition of "kena romen" — being exposed for feeling human desire, which, according to Islam, is natural, but according to the public’s expectation, is a scandal.

Why "Romen"? Because it sounds more dramatic than "cinta." In the entertainment industry, romance is a genre. But when an Ustazah "kena romen," it implies she has been struck by Cupid's arrow in a way that defies her strict upbringing.

Consider the viral cases:

The "Romen" element turns the Ustazah from a saint into a tragic heroine. The public consumes this content like popcorn at a movie theater.

If you are an Ustazah reading this, or a follower who wants to stop the toxicity, here is a radical solution: Normalize Ustazahs as Humans.

For the Ustazah:

For the Public (That’s us):

An Ustazah’s Instagram feed is a battlefield. On one side, hijab syar’i and dark, modest colors. On the other side, pastel cafes, avocado toast, and luxury handbags (justified as "rewards from Allah for a hardworking woman").

Critics argue that this "lifestyle" content dilutes the message. If an Ustazah spends more time filming a haul (fashion haul) than reciting the Quran, has she not already "kene romen" with dunia (the material world)?

The internet is forgiving to men. When an Ustaz (male teacher) marries a celebrity or takes a young second wife, he is hailed as a "sunnah follower." But when an Ustazah shows even a hint of romantic interest—if she posts a photo with a male cousin and smiles too wide—she "kena romen."

This double standard fuels the gossip industry. Female religious figures must either be:

Neither is healthy.

Let’s be honest. Producers love an "Ustazah Kena Romen" story.

Streaming services like Viu, Netflix, and local platforms have produced endless content capitalizing on this:

The Ustazah is paid handsomely. She gets free makeup, free flights, and a glamorous lifestyle. But the price is her wara’ (piety). The more she engages with entertainment, the closer she gets to "kena romen" proper.

To understand "kene romen," you must understand the lifestyle that precedes it. Modern Ustazahs are caught in a paradox.