I try hard to be the pious and respectful, Hijab-wearing and Koran-quoting Muslim sister that my parents, Ahmed and Ayaan Mohammed expect me to be, but I kind of suck at it. Partly because I love to suck dick. My name is Mariam Mohammed and I'm a young Black Muslim woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Lately, I've been suffocating under the burdens of my Islamic faith, Somali culture and the iron-clad rules of tradition. Something had to give. And the results stunned me. Man have I got a story for you today, dear reader.
A little over a month ago, I met this guy named Elijah Morrison. A six-foot-tall, lean and athletic, ruggedly good-looking brother of Jamaican descent who studies criminal justice at the University of Ottawa. I was walking through the Rideau Center and stopped to buy some food at the newly renovated food court downstairs by the escalators when a fine-looking, well-dressed brother sat at the table near mine, and smiled at me. Hello beautiful, he said, nodding at me while sipping on a Pepsi.
I looked the brother up and down. Definitely not Somali, I thought, considering his ebony skin tone, roughly handsome features, kinky hair and overall strongly built body. Clad in a blue silk shirt, black silk pants with a black tie, the guy looked good. I like a man who dresses neatly, and the fools walking around Ottawa with their pants hanging low don't impress me much. The brother's boldness surprised me, but I kind of liked it.
Now, most women wouldn't appreciate being approached this way because they find it annoying or degrading or whatever. Me? I'm a Hijabi. As a female wearing the Hijab, I NEVER get flirted with or hollered at. I swear, people forget that I'm a female, and have a sexual identity, because of my cultural outfits. I wear a Hijab on my damn head, not a frigging halo! I smiled back at the brother and looked at his plate. That looks yummy, I said, eyeing the plate of Chinese food. The brother smiled, and introduced himself as Elijah.
