As Salam Alaikum, dear reader. My name is Maimuna Hassan and I'm a young Black Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I'm in the Criminology program at the University of Ottawa, and will hopefully graduate next semester. Not sure if I want to do Law School right away or try to get a job in my major. It all depends on the job market out there and the state of my finances.
Insha'Allah, whatever the will of the Most High will be. Life has thrown many hurdles my way recently but I have emerged stronger from them, or so I'd like to think. Life lessons come our way and we've got no choice but to learn from them. Recently, I came out as a lesbian top my family. If you know anything about Somali family dynamics and Islamic culture, then you can pretty much guess how things probably went. Not so good.
"There's nothing more in this whole wide world that's more haram than two women actually having sex, this is disgusting, my daughter, we taught you better than that!" These stern words of rebuke, told in a decidedly harsh and unforgiving tone, came from my Houyo, my dearest mother, Fowziyah "Mommy Fofo" Hassan.
"It's my life!" I replied hotly, and before I could blink, my Houyo slapped me hard across the face. Her reaction stunned the hell out of me, for I wasn't expecting it. My mother is usually soft-spoken and even-tempered. I rubbed my cheek, and the sting I felt didn't hurt half as bad as the look of abject hatred and disgust I saw on my mother's usually joyful and loving face.
"I want you out of here, Maimuna, you need to leave this house until you come to your senses," my mother said angrily, and I nodded and rushed past her, retreating to my bedroom. My face felt hot, and I looked at myself in the mirror, and the sadness and horror I saw there made me wince.
"This is it," I told myself, and just like that, I packed up my belongings and filled two suitcases. Two weeks ago I'd gone to the City of Edmonton, Alberta, to visit my father, Elmi Hassan. I hadn't seen my father in ages, not since he and my Houyo got divorced, and Dad moved to Alberta, where he met Jennifer, the white lady he's currently living with.
I grabbed my belongings, and then headed to the Quality Hotel downtown, riding the number twelve bus from Montreal Road to Dalhousie Street. Once there, I went to the front counter, where a young Indian guy smiled pleasantly at me. I took out my MBNA Mastercard and booked a room for three nights. I've got good credit, thankfully, so the transaction went without a hitch.
I could have gone to a friend's house but word travels fast in the Somali community, and I didn't want to have to deal with the aftermath of my family outing just this minute. That first night, I lay on the hotel bed, and looked at the ceiling, wondering how on earth my life got turned upside down so damn fast. Life is pretty terrible that way!
Twenty four hours ago, I was on cloud nine. I closed my eyes, and remembered. What else could I do? I've got six hundred and ten dollars left on my Scotia Bank checking account and about two hundred in my CIBC savings account. I don't have a place to stay, other than this sterile, generic hotel room. My life is in tatters, seriously. Good thing I've still got my part-time job at Loblaw's otherwise I'd be destitute.
"I'm going to miss you sweetie," said Caroline Lahoud, as we stood in the middle of the Ottawa International Airport, twenty four hours before my life went straight to the darkest pit in hell. I stood inches from the young woman I love, and my heart thundered in my chest when I looked into Caroline's almond-shaped golden brown eyes.
"Me too," I said breathlessly, and I hugged Caroline fiercely. For this young woman truly changed my life. The past few months had been really hectic, but in a really wonderful way. I admitted to myself what I'd been feeling for ages, the fact that I feel sexually and romantically drawn to other girls. And it's all thanks to Caroline Lahoud.
From the moment I laid eyes on the six-foot-tall, raven-haired and bronze-skinned Lebanese Christian beauty, I felt something stirring deep in my chest. Caroline's eyes bore into mine the first time we saw each other in that political science class at the University of Ottawa, and her smile made me melt. My soul stirred, and my body felt warm all over. For Caroline's intense gaze set me on fire, in a most wonderful way...
At first, I fought back, I resisted the attraction I felt for the tall, gorgeous gal from Lebanon. The fact that our professor paired us for an assignment definitely complicated things, but I'm glad it happened. For it afforded Caroline and I the means of spending some time together, and allowed our friendship to blossom. We got to know each other, and the more I learned about Caroline, the more fascinated I became.
