Lying next to his lover, Karim Teshome, Said Mahdi felt restless. Inside their house on Avenue Des Epinettes, deep in the Orleans suburb of the City of Ottawa, Ontario, all was quiet. Outside the house, the rain fell in thick droplets, not unusual since it was early October. A few hours ago, the two young men had a happy reunion. Karim finally returned from his trip to his hometown of Bahir Dar, Ethiopia, where he'd gone to his brother Nasser's wedding.
"I missed you so much," Karim said, smiling as he hugged Said fiercely. The two of them stood in the middle of the Ottawa International Airport. The place was busy, with folks of all hues coming and going. A few stopped to stare at the seemingly unusual spectacle of a pair of tall, well-dressed young black men embracing affectionately.
"And I missed you too," Said replied, and he kissed Karim passionately. Karim returned his kiss, and then he did the double-butt grab, his favorite move, and Said smiled. Holding Karim's right hand while dragging his luggage, Said led his lover down the ramp, and then they reached the airport's lower levels. Immediately, a middle-eastern cab driver greeted them.
"Salaam, brothers, where can I take you?" said the cabbie, and he smiled pleasantly at Karim and Said, seemingly undaunted by the sight of two young black men holding hands. Karim smiled and nodded at the cab driver, who took the luggage from Said and put it in the trunk of the cab, and then looked at the two young men expectantly.
"We're going to Orleans, thank you," Said replied, and he nodded at Karim, and just like that, they got in the back of the cab. As the cab raced from the Ottawa International Airport and began the long trek to the suburb of Orleans, Karim spoke incessantly. He couldn't shut up about his brother Nasser and his new bride Nagla, a young Yemeni woman who'd apparently grown up in Ethiopia.
Said didn't really listen, he kept thinking about a certain lady with whom he'd shared some passionate moments during Karim's three-week absence. Ever since he could remember, Said Mahdi had always been attracted to both women and men. Born in the City of Calgary, Alberta, to Somali Muslim immigrant parents, Said studied business management at the University of Calgary while lettering on the school's famed varsity football team.
An outstanding linebacker, the six-foot-three and 250-pound Said Mahdi had dreams of playing in the Canadian Football League or perhaps even the NFL. A knee injury during his fourth year on the University of Calgary football dashed Said's pro football dreams. Said stuck around the University of Calgary for his MBA before moving to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, to work for the massive firm known as KPMG.
At first, Said Mahdi hated the City of Ottawa. His hometown of Calgary was a lot more fun than the national capital, that's for damn sure. Said found the place dull and boring, and he didn't much care for the way the government workers, mostly middle-aged white guys and aging white women, with a sprinkling of minorities here and there, tended to stare at him. Apparently they weren't used to seeing tall, handsome and well-dressed young black men walking about downtown, going about their daily business.
A couple of months after moving to Ottawa and starting his career as an analyst for KPMG, Said Mahdi was supremely bored. He'd gone on a few dates with local women, and while some were attractive and maybe even halfway interesting, none lit his fire. The local gay and bisexual guys were dull and boring too. Said found Ottawa folks to be fake, passive aggressive and insecure. Nope, the brother from Calgary didn't care for them in the least. Until someone special came along...
Said remembered the exact moment when he met Karim Teshome. During lunch on a sunny Monday, he'd gone to grab a bite at Shawarma King, a quaint little restaurant located on Bank Street. While having lunch, Said watched as a six-foot-tall, slender yet muscular brother walked in, clad in a sharp gray suit and looking fantastic. Their eyes met, and Karim smiled at Said like they'd known each other their entire lives. The two of them sat down to have lunch, and the rest, as they say, was history.
Said Mahdi, a man who'd gone back and forth between female lovers and clandestine dalliances with gay and bisexual men, surprised himself by falling in love with a unicorn. For that's what Karim Teshome seemed like, at first. A tall, handsome and very masculine Ethiopian Muslim guy who recently graduated from the University of Ottawa with an accounting degree, worked for the CRA and was newly out as gay. Damn. Said definitely hit the jackpot when he landed Karim, that's for damn sure.
"Said, if you insist of leading this lifestyle, you are dead to us," Said's mother, Mouna Mahdi said, the day Said finally worked up the courage to tell them about his bisexuality and his relationship with Karim. Said's father Ali Mahdi got so pissed that he got up from the family living room, went upstairs, grabbed his hammer and threatened his only son with violence. That's when Said knew his life would never be the same...
"Said, I want you out of my house, you are a Muslim, that's how we raised you, so you know this gay business is a sin in our Islamic religion," Ali Mahdi, the family patriarch shouted at his son Said while brandishing a hammer. With tears in his eyes, Said looked at his Aabo ( father in Somali ) and Hooyo ( mother in Somali ) and shook his head, wishing to high heaven that he could make them understand. With his head held high, Said reluctantly but stoically accepted his fate. The young bisexual Somali Muslim man swiftly walked out of his family's townhouse in the Marlborough Park area of Calgary.
Karim snored loudly, the sound snatching Said from his little trip down memory lane, and Said smiled to himself. He'd actually grown used to Karim's snoring. A few hours ago, they made passionate love, and went at it so hard that Said was left sore. As soon as they exited the cab and went into their house, Karim kissed Said and practically ripped off his clothes.
