On October 9, 2026, Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), a minority institution and a central university with a cultural heritage spanning over 151 years, marked a historic day. With alumni ranging from Zakir Husain and Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan to Javed Akhtar, Ismat Chughtai and sporting legend Dhyan Chand, the university witnessed a significant victory as student agitators succeeded in restoring the students’ union after eight years. The Union had remained suspended following the administration’s decision in 2018.This victory filled students with newfound courage and brought back the familiar buzz of university elections. Yet, amid the celebrations and renewed enthusiasm for student politics, an important question remained: Whose union is it? Whose representation does it guarantee? Who gets to speak at the table?During the 18 days of protest, which began around September 19, AMU witnessed a remarkable spirit of agitation, with male and female students participating alike. However, once the union was restored and attention shifted towards the subsequent electoral process, the question of equal representation became increasingly crucial.The AMU students’ union (AMUSU) functions alongside a separate representative body, the women’s college students’ union (WCSU). While the former primarily represents students on the main campus, the latter represents students enrolled at Women’s College, a geographically separate campus designated for female undergraduate students.Following the restoration of the union, questions emerged regarding loopholes in the electoral guidelines. Under the stated provisions, only the president of the WCSU serves as an ex-officio member of the AMUSU. This effectively leaves female students at the Women’s College without the right to vote for or elect candidates to the main union, apart from their representation through the court member of their respective faculties. As a result, the only formal channel through which their collective concerns can reach the main union remains limited.Inequality begins well before the ballot boxThis arrangement does not merely create a gap in representation; it institutionalises one. However, the underrepresentation of women at AMU does not begin with student politics. It begins much earlier, within the very structures that govern their academic lives.Male and female students appear for the same entrance examinations, yet the distribution of opportunities that follows is far from equal. Male students attend classes in their respective departments on the main campus, often with access to better-established faculty structures, whereas female undergraduate students are directed to the Women’s College, where several teaching positions are occupied by guest faculty. At times, the shortage of permanent faculty becomes so severe that students are left without teachers to conduct their classes. In certain instances, courses available to male students in their respective departments have been discontinued altogether at the Women’s College.The existence of a separate college for female undergraduate students further complicates the question of representation. Female students enrolled in postgraduate programmes and other professional courses on the main campus do not fall within the institutional framework of Women’s College either. Thus, the division does not simply separate students geographically; it fragments women’s collective representation across the university.These concerns were gradually recognised by a group of female students who began mobilising women across the campus. They realised that one of the larger problems was not merely the absence of representation, but also a lack of awareness and sensitisation regarding the structural inequalities women have to navigate. Students were brought together, made aware of the existing provisions and encouraged to recognise the limitations imposed on their political participation.An application was subsequently drafted and submitted to the concerned authorities, outlining demands for more inclusive representation. These included a 33% reservation for women students in the union, the inclusion of the chairpersons of the WCSU as ex-officio members of the AMUSU and dual voting rights for female students affiliated with the Women’s College.How institutional divides cement a misogynistic hierarchyAnother significant concern was raised regarding female students enrolled in the fourth year of the four-year undergraduate programme (FYUP) under the National Education Policy. Unlike the other batches, these students have their classes regulated and conducted on the main campus. They have little institutional association with Women’s College, yet they are still expected to vote and contest elections through the WCSU.The existing age guidelines create yet another contradiction. While the eligibility age for contesting WCSU elections is restricted to 17-22 years, the upper age limit for male candidates contesting AMUSU elections extends to 30 years. With the introduction of the fourth year under FYUP, which broadly corresponds to the academic stage previously associated with the first year of postgraduate education, an entire section of female students risks being excluded from contesting WCSU elections on account of age.The question, therefore, is not simply about electoral technicalities. It is about the exclusion of an entire category of students from the very democratic process through which they are expected to secure representation. How can a system claim to guarantee democracy when a section of its women students cannot even contest the elections through which their interests are supposed to be represented?In response to these demands, the administration reportedly maintained that it lacked the authority to address such matters unless they were proposed by a duly elected union. This response brings the issue back to its starting point: how are female students expected to secure representation when the institutional mechanism through which they can demand it remains inaccessible to them in the first place? How are women at AMU supposed to challenge an already male-centric political structure when the barriers to participation are directed disproportionately towards them? The restoration of the students’ union after eight years was undoubtedly a victory. It revived a political culture that students had been deprived of for far too long. But the restoration of an institution does not automatically guarantee the restoration of everyone’s political agency within it. There is also a need to question the way women’s representation features in the promises made by candidates. Why are women’s concerns so often reduced to demands for free transportation and extended outing hours? These may be legitimate concerns, but they cannot constitute the entirety of women’s political aspirations. Women need more than assurances about their mobility – they need the agency to define their own demands, participate in decision-making and determine the conditions under which they inhabit the university.Moreover, who gets to decide the limits of a woman’s freedom in the first place? Why do so many women at AMU still struggle to find the agency or the courage to speak for themselves? And, perhaps most importantly, who is going to ensure that their voices are not merely heard, but also institutionally represented?Women are far from deciding who gets to speak at the table, when they are still fighting for the right to sit at it.Maryam Khan is an undergraduate student at Aligarh Muslim University and currently serves as deputy editor of the AMU Journal.