Arab BBW meets South Sudanese
As Salam Alaikum, dear readers. How are you today? My name is Fatima Mehdi, and I'm a young Arab woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm in the police foundations program at Algonquin College, and hope to work in law enforcement someday. You don't see a lot of Middle-Eastern women in that field, especially Hijab-wearing ones, but I am a determined sort and refuse to let these obstacles obstruct my path to success. That being said, I have a story to share with you.
Have you ever received the type of news that make you want to fall flat on your ass and refuse to get up? That's exactly what happened to me a while ago, and it has definitely changed my life. I was on the 95 bus leaving Marketplace Station in Barrhaven when I saw a friend whom I hadn't seen in some time.
My good buddy and former prayer partner Yusuf Akech and I have been close friends since our halcyon days at Luther Academy, an elite private school in Ottawa South where we were like unicorns. A few students of color in a sea of whiteness. Yusuf bonded in those tough days, and we kept in touch even after going to different schools for higher education. Being practical, I chose Algonquin College, and Yusuf the dreamer chose to study political science at Carleton University.
"Salam, Yusuf, my man, what's up? It's been a while, brother," I said cheerfully as I sat next to my old buddy. At this hour, the bus was packed, so I had to dart part a harried-looking businessman to grab one of the choice middle seats, where Yusuf sat. Yusuf is six-foot-five, with a thick Afro, and he's also burly and dark-skinned, a fine exemplar of the South Sudanese people. Next to him, I look almost tiny, which is saying something since, at five-foot-ten, I'm taller than the average woman.
Well, come to think of it, I'm somewhat bigger than the average woman too, I consider myself curvaceous, thank you very much. Be kind, it's not easy being a curvy, brown-skinned and dark-haired Middle-Eastern Muslim woman in a world that worships skinny white girls. I know what it's like to be different. My buddy Yusuf and I have always had this in common. Yusuf looked at me somberly, and flashed a rather reserved smile tinged with sadness.
"Walaikum Salam, sister, it has been a while indeed," Yusuf replied, and I noticed that he was holding a peculiar book in his hands. My eyes widened when I saw its front cover and title. Best of Both Worlds Bisexual Erotica by M. Christian and Sage Vivant. I looked at the book which Yusuf clutched in his hands, and looked into those soulful amber eyes of his. There was a question on my lips, but I wasn't quite sure how to utter it. Certain things are going to be awkward no matter what you try...
"Nice book, it looks interesting," I say, smiling innocently, knowing that I might be walking into a minefield. Everything is complicated when it comes to sexuality, community and human rights these days. I ought to know, I came to my campus this September and found gender-neutral washrooms. Male students expressed confusion as to whether or not they could use them. Me? I thought it was political correctness gone too far, but I kept my mouth shut about it.
I looked at Yusuf, this tall, handsome young South Sudanese Muslim brother whom I've known for most of my life. Last time I saw him was a few months ago, and he was dating this white chick named Brittany or Britney or something. You know the type, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, with big knockers, and socially clueless although she mainly dates minority men. I didn't much care for Yusuf's girlfriend, whom he insisted on bringing to Islamic community events like Eid Dinner and the Muslim Basketball Association games. Ugh.
"Yeah, it's taught me a lot, I feel less alone, knowing there's others out there," Yusuf said softly, and I scratched my head, not knowing what to say. Look, I know the stereotype about us Muslims being close-minded about LGBT issues and you can stuff it. At the end of the day, I am human, alright? Yes, I have my faith and hail from a conservative culture, but I am also a real human being, and I wouldn't be much of a person if I didn't show sympathy to a friend who's clearly going through a rough time.
"Yusuf, habib, you are not alone, my friend," I replied gently, and I laid my hand on Yusuf's, and offered him what I hope was a kindly smile. Yusuf looked at me, and I saw surprise in his eyes. The brother looked like he was about to say something, but before he could say anything, I felt that distinct feeling you feel when someone is staring at you, and looked away, and met a familiar pair of eyes.
"Fatima," came a deep voice, and I looked up and saw Ali Gurkan, a tall, raven-haired and alabaster-skinned Turk whom I briefly dated last year. I met Ali while visiting my cousin Noor at a mixer for Muslim students held at the University of Ottawa. Ali looked at me, then his eyes zeroed in on my hand, which rested on top of Yusuf's, and disapproval rolled off of him in waves. Instantly, my heart went pitter-patter and most definitely not in a good way.
You see, Ali Gurkan and I dated for about eight months, and, um, he was the first person I had, you know, relations with. Our whirlwind romance ended when I caught Ali making out with Nakia Thompson, a Jamaican chick who works as a fitness instructor at Goodlife Fitness, where Ali works out. I was heartbroken over Ali's cheating, and dumped him. No, I'm still not over it. Betrayal isn't that easy to get over.
"Ali, Salam," I replied curtly, and Ali flashed a smile a rattlesnake would recognize, and looked at Yusuf and I. Flanked by a couple of young Arab guys, Ali was standing way too close for comfort, but since the bus was quite crowded, I figured he didn't have much of a choice. Can you say awkward?
"Salam, I'm Yusuf," Yusuf said, hand extended, and he locked eyes with Ali, who looked him up and down, ignored his hand and said nothing. Awkward much? I looked at Ali and shook my head. At this point, the bus had reached Baseline Station, which is right next to Algonquin College. I could get off there, but I didn't, and instead, I remained on the bus. It was nine o'clock and I didn't have class till noon so I figured I'd go chill at Carleton until then.
"Yusuf, I don't have class right now, let's go chill at Carleton," I said, and Yusuf smiled and nodded. Ali and his buddies went to the back of the bus, and once the bus reached Bayview Station, I got off with Yusuf. Once we got off the bus, Yusuf paused and looked at me. I could feel a question coming, so I braced myself.
"Fatima, um, what was that back there? Who was that guy?" Yusuf asked, in that deep, no-nonsense voice of his. For some reason, a chill went down my spine when Yusuf's intense eyes locked with mine. I swear, sometimes the dude is like Samuel L. Jackson, only younger. I smiled and linked arms with Yusuf, and then we walked down the hill toward the O-Train Station below...
"That was Ali, my ex-boyfriend, and his douche buddies, I'll tell you more if you tell me about your ex," I replied, a bit smugly, and Yusuf looked me up and down and smiled. We went into the O-Train, which waited for a few minutes before speeding down the rail. Carling Station zoomed by, followed by Carleton. Yusuf and I got off at Carleton, and at his suggestion, we went into the University Center Building to grab coffee at the Tim Horton's located on the main floor...
"Fatima, my dear, what secrets are hiding behind those lovely but mischievous eyes?" Yusuf asked, smiling wryly, and I rolled my eyes and half-dragged him about on his own campus. As we made our way toward the U.C. Building, walking among throngs of students of all hues going about their day, I noticed people staring at us. I wonder what they think when they see a young Middle-Eastern woman acting all chummy with a tall, handsome young black man...
"You'll never know, handsome," I replied to Yusuf, and as we line up at Tim Horton's, a line that has almost forty people in it, by the way, he offers me to stand in front of him but I decline. Yusuf drops his wallet and bends down to pick it up, and, um, I catch a glimpse of his super-fine ass. Hmmm, Yusuf has a nice ass. I know I'm not the world's most observant woman but how come I never noticed it before? Well, what do you know? Looks like my morning is getting better already.
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