Haitian Boyz for Somali Girls

My boo is Haitian, and he's totally more chill and relaxed than the Somali and Arab guys I previously dated. He doesn't boss me around, criticize the way I dress or hassle me over tradition and other such nonsense. Even though we're from different cultures and faiths, or perhaps because of that, my Raymond and I get along wonderfully. My name is Zarah Hussein and I'm a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. We recently went to the Caribana festival in the City of Toronto and had a blast. I'm honestly falling for this guy, and I don't care who knows it.

I met Raymond Duchene on Orientation Day at Carleton University. Like me, he's an international student. Raymond was born and raised in the town of Miami, Florida, by Haitian immigrant parents. His folks, Leon and Anne-Marie Duchene left the island of Haiti a few months before Raymond was born. A lot of Haitian immigrants come to the U.S. and Canada and end up staying there because of their sons and daughters born in those countries. Raymond playfully referred to himself as an Anchor Baby when I asked him about his life and his family back in the Sunshine State.

Raymond transferred to Carleton University from Miami-Dade Community College. I don't know why anyone would leave sunny and beach-filled Miami, Florida, for cold-ass Ottawa, Ontario, but hey, fate works in mysterious ways and all that. If Raymond hadn't won a coveted international scholarship to a certain Canadian school, we never would have met. My arrival in Ottawa wasn't due to any special effort on my part. When I first came to Canada, the place seemed like a prison to me because, honestly I did not want to be there.

How did I end up here anyways? Due to relentless partying and drinking, I flunked out of Brunel University in the City of Uxbridge, England, and ended up at my uncle and aunt's house in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, because my parents got fed up with me. You see, I've always been somewhat of a rebel. Somali girls are supposed to be pious and quiet like good Muslim girls. That's not me. I'm loud, opinionated and bossy. Not content with what my parents had planned for me, ( i.e. an arranged marriage with some random schmuck at some point down the line ) so I decided to carve out my own path.

My folks, Amina and Ali Hussein wanted me to study nursing. I opted for accounting when I enrolled at Brunel University because I've always had a head for numbers. I also love rap, and performed with an all-female band called Persian Riot. My best friend Catherine Abdullah, a Lebanese Christian chick from North London, and this Turkish gal named Ceylin Uran were in it with me. We could rap, and we performed at numerous clubs in London. Unfortunately, my parents weren't supportive. Muslim parents just don't understand that their daughters might want to be something other than the wife of some random bozo from the homeland. We want to live our lives our way!

Exasperated with my non-traditional ways of thinking, my folks sent me to stay with my uncle Yousef Hussein and my aunt Khadija in Ottawa. It's sort of a reverse Fresh Prince of Bel Air deal. I consider London, England, a far classier place than Ottawa, Ontario. I mean, name five famous people who come from Ottawa? You can't, because there aren't any. Even the locals refer to it as the town that fun forgot. And my parents expected to stay here and...skate? I stayed with my uncle and aunt for exactly two months, then I got the heck out of dodge. Before I left, I made sure I had what I needed to survive on my own. A work permit, a study permit and a social insurance card. My first job was bagging groceries at Loblaw's. I got myself a one-bedroom apartment in the Vanier area, nothing fancy but it was mine, you know?

I had to pay for school by myself since my parents stopped supporting me financially the moment they found out I was no longer living with my uncle and aunt in Ottawa. In Somali culture, unmarried young women living alone simply isn't something most people consider okay. Observant Muslim women live with their parents or their husbands. No solo life. Well, for the first time in my twenty years, I felt free. I had my own place, and had to live under nobody's rules but my own. Working at Loblaw's all summer I managed to save three grand, enough to take two classes at Carleton come September of that year. International students like myself are made to pay more than twice what Canadian students pay. If that isn't a rip-off I don't know what is. Oh, well. Got to keep on trucking, you know? I decided to make the most of my time in Ottawa. I've finally won my freedom from my family. That's something, at least?

At school I met the cutest guy I'd seen in a long time. Raymond Duchene. Six-foot-one, lean and athletic, with medium brown skin, curly black hair and the sweetest eyes I've seen on a brother since Hollywood actor/model Tyson Beckford. This fine hunk caught my eye on Orientation Day, and I 'accidentally' bumped into him. Flashing him an innocent smile, I apologized for nearly barreling into him and dropping my book bag near his feet. He smiled and picked up my bag. Hmmm. Nice smile. Pearly white teeth. He handed me my bag, then asked me where I came from. Happily I shook his hand and told him I was born in London, England, to Somali immigrant parents. He looked at me and seemed to like what he saw. I looked at him, definitely liked what I saw and decided he would be mine. And that is that.

You see, in this life, you've got to go after what you want. I want to make a new life for myself in Ottawa. The boring, tedious and predictable existence that Muslim parents have all spelled out for their daughters doesn't work for me. It might cost me my life if my folks go off the deep end and go all honor-bound with wrath on my ass, but I've got to live while I'm alive. It's my life! I am twenty years old, and have no idea how much longer I have on this earth. I don't know any more than you do. So I try to have fun and take things as they come. I want to live, I want to travel, I want to have fun and I want to be loved. I miss my friends and my old digs back in the U.K. but I've made friends here in Ottawa.

Friends like Regina Thompson, a tall young Jamaican-Canadian woman who raps better than most MCs I've met on two continents. We met at a party at school and became pals. Regina is going out with a Lebanese Christian guy named Anthony Suleiman. Her parents don't approve but she's in love with him. I told Regina to follow her heart. Life is short, you know? Sometimes, Raymond and I have double dated with Regina and Anthony. I love hanging out with these two. They're an okay pair. Yeah, I've got a new life, a new job, a new school, a new boyfriend and new friends. My family still sends me angry emails and phone calls because of how I live my life. That's why I blocked them on Facebook and changed my phone number. They don't know where I live and I want to keep it that way. My safety may depend on it someday. I've applied for permanent resident status in Canada because I don't want to go back to the U.K. I want to stay in Canada with Raymond and my new friends. I like it here. Funny how I got sent to Ottawa as punishment and I fell in love with the place and the people. Life happens, what can I say?