From Burkina Faso With Love Ch 02

As Salam Alaikum, dear reader. The name is Aziz Kalenzaga, and I'm a young black Muslim man of Burkinabe descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm studying mathematics at Carleton University. I was born in Burkina Faso and raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. These days, I'm a U.S. citizen via naturalization. I came to Canada to study for a couple of years, but I'm seriously considering staying longer because of my sweetheart, Nadia Al-Masri.

I met the short, Hijab-wearing, bronze-skinned and dark-haired Arab cutie while walking through the Carleton University campus. The place was bigger than I thought, and since I was new at the time, I got lost often. Ottawa is full of passive-aggressive bozos who love to see a foreigner like myself getting lost. Even if they know exactly what you're looking for, they smile politely and tell you that they don't know.

Canadians aren't the uber-friendly folks that much of the world thinks they are. They are mean and they honestly kind of suck, to tell you the truth. If you're a person of color and you're intelligent and ambitious, and you also happen to be educated, know that white Canadians will hate and fear you. Under no circumstances are you to ever trust these fake-smiling, passive-aggressive obstructionists, saboteurs and liars. You've been warned.

Wandering through the vast campus, I was hopelessly lost. I was looking for a certain administrative building so I can register for courses, and the only person at school who stopped to help me was Nadia Al-Masri. The short Arab chick with the shy smile and surprisingly thick derriere not only stopped to help me but she walked me to the place where I needed to go. Thanks to Nadia, I was able to register before the deadline and get all the courses that I needed. I thank my lucky stars that I met her.

I couldn't stop thinking about Nadia, the cute Yemeni Arab chick, but I didn't hold out much hope. Carleton is a fairly big campus, and you can go weeks without seeing some people. Also, I know what the Arabs are like. Sure, plenty of them are friendly but they are fiercely protective of their women, while their men go have anybody else's women. That's their policy. Even after living in America for half my life, and becoming a U.S. citizen I haven't forgotten about the state of racial relations in the Islamic world.

I was raised Muslim, like more than half the people of West Africa. In Islam, we're supposed to be one Ummah, or community, according to the sacred words of the Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him. Muslims of any color are supposed to treat each other as brother and sister. Doesn't matter if you're from Ghana, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, Nigeria, Yemen, Indonesia, or whatever. There is only one Islam.

If you are a true Muslim, know that there is only one book of important, the Holy Koran, and one Prophet of important, Mohammed the bringer of peace. Muslims of all hues are your siblings, your brethren, your people. There's not supposed to be any separation between us, that's what the Prophet wanted. Well, today's Muslims aren't like that. Wherever you go among the Ummah, there's something of a strong dislike for people of African descent, and it disgusts the hell out of me.

I think that's part of the reason why I stopped going to the Masjid while living in the United States of America. It had nothing to do with the dislike that many Americans had come to feel for Islam after the events of September 11, 2001. It had everything to do with the racism I experienced in the Muslim community. Why go where you're not wanted? I believe in the Koran, and I respect the teachings of the Prophet Mohammed.

I can't stand the lies and bigotry of my fellow Muslims, so I pray alone, and avoid the bulk of the Ummah. If that makes me an oddball, then so be it. When I came to the City of Ottawa, I was thoroughly disgusted with the passive-aggressive racism of white Canadians. They smile to your face while hating you for your skin color, or your religion, or your cultural ways. I don't trust any of them as far as I can throw them. I saw the world as a cruel, wicked place full of bigots. I had almost given up hope on meeting decent people, until I met Nadia Al-Masri.

The short Arab chick helped me out that day, and I was thankful for her help. I didn't hold out much hope of ever seeing her again...until Nadia approached me while I was in the Carleton University library, trying to crank out an essay. I'm a mathematician, a numbers man, not the type to write literature. I was hopelessly lost, and Nadia proved to be heaven-sent, in more ways than one. Thanks to Nadia, I finished the essay and then submitted it to the professor via email. While working on the paper together, I got Nadia's number and Facebook, and that's how it all began.

Even now, I can't help but smile whenever I think of Nadia Al-Masri and I sharing our first kiss at Rooster's Café on campus, one fine November afternoon. Hand in hand, we walked out, smiling like a pair of brats. And what a pair we made! A tall, dark-skinned Muslim brother from West Africa and a short, cute Yemeni Arab chick in a Hijab. People stare at Nadia and I everywhere we go, especially by our fellow Muslims, but we don't care.

As far as Nadia Al-Masri and I are concerned, we're practicing true Islam by loving each other without letting the boundaries of skin color and cultural difference get in the way. I'm a West African man, a proud Muslim, a naturalized U.S. citizen and a good man. Someday soon I'll have my degree from Carleton University. When that happens, I'll either go back to Boston, Massachusetts, or stay in Ottawa, Ontario, with my beloved Nadia. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. Peace be upon you.