When a man loves a woman, he'll go to extreme lengths to be with her. The boundaries of race, religion, culture, class and society itself be damned. Just ask Steve Dorvil, a young Haitian man who moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, to study Business at Carleton University. At first glance, Steve didn't much care for Ottawa, for he'd much rather be in the City of Montreal, where he'd be surrounded by his own people.
When classes began at Carleton University in the Fall, Steve saw his new school and the city surrounding it as dead ends. Plenty of hot girls on campus, but none of them lit Steve's fire. Along came Hodan Mohamed, a six-foot-tall, beautiful, curvy yet tomboyish Somali-Canadian Muslim gal whom Steve first glimpsed inside the Carleton University library. One glance at the tall Somali Muslim gal who seemed like a "Beyonce in a Hijab," and Steve was definitely hooked.
Conventional wisdom states that a Christian man from the Caribbean who finds himself drawn to a Muslim lady from the Horn of Africa is simply asking for trouble. Such a man should focus his attention elsewhere, or choose another course of action. Steve Dorvil has his faults, but he's never been the kind of brother who gives up easily. It's simply not in his character...
Walking all over the Carleton University campus, Steve began to look for Hodan Mohamed, pestering his married Somali-Canadian lady friend Zahra Amir with questions about the Somali culture and whatnot. One night, while studying for his upcoming Business exams, Steve saw Hodan Mohamed seated at a computer on the library's third floor, and he got the guts to approach her. What followed was an encounter that Steve would never forget...
"Just thought I'd say hey, well, to a fellow library dweller," Steve said, smiling faintly, as he pulled the chair next to her. Hodan Mohamed smiled at this handsome, well-dressed, nervous-looking brother, and quietly assessed him. Not bad-looking but definitely has room for improvement, Hodan thought as Steve began to holler at her, or so he thought.
"Stop gawking at me like I'm Beyonce or Celine Dion or something and ask for my number already," Hodan Mohamed said sharply, flashing Steve a coy smile. They'd been talking for half an hour, and the brother, though charming, was starting to ramble instead of closing the deal. Like the helpful soul that she is, Hodan Mohamed decided to help a brother out.
