The Hijab Hunter Conversion

Lying next to me after a night of passionate lovemaking, my wife Ayanna Abdikarim-Chandelier sighs in her sleep. The sight of her never ceases to thrill me. We first met while working as security guards at this museum in downtown Ottawa, Ontario. The tall, curvy Somali gal with the shy smile and lively eyes has haunted me from the get-go. You see, where I come from, we don't have people who look like her. I was born in the City of Amarillo, Texas, to a Haitian immigrant father and Mexican-American mother. My parents, Eustache Chandelier ( yes, I've heard all the jokes ) and Miranda Castillo produced a fine, strapping lad if I do say so.

Guess who attracts second and even third glances from the ladies wherever he goes? Yours truly, Solomon Chandelier. I'm six-foot-three, somewhat chubby but still handsome, with caramel skin, light brown eyes and curly Black hair. People say that I look like the late Hollywood superstar Lee Thompson Young, only a bit beefier. I take that as a compliment. I love being the center of attention and I love the ladies. My fondness for women has recently gotten me into trouble.

What happened? I won't go into too many details because I signed an agreement. Please try to understand. Suffice to say that a cheerleader broad whose advances I rebuffed decided to make my life hell and used the University of Texas campus administration to do it. Think false allegation of misconduct, if you will. After getting kicked out of the University of Texas over an alleged harassment incident at a fraternity event, it was decided that I would be sent to stay with my paternal uncle Samuel and my aunt Samantha Chandelier in the Canadian capital.

When I first got to the City of Ottawa, I hated the place. For a capital, this town seemed small, uptight and boring. I enrolled at Carleton University to continue my studies, and got a job as a security guard to make ends meet. I got nothing but love for my uncle and aunt but I needed my own place. I used my first paycheck, eight hundred dollars, to pay for a one-bedroom apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa. I found the apartment while browsing through the website Kijiji. It's a great place to find cheap deals. My apartment was basically the size of a shoe box but it's my shoe box. I liked it because it was mine. I lived alone, with nobody to bug me or boss me around. Vive la liberte, as my Haitian people would say!

Anyhow, the security company for which I worked sent me to this museum in downtown Ottawa. It's where I met Ayanna Abdikarim, a gorgeous young Somali woman destined to change my life forever. Growing up in the American Midwest, I was used to racial diversity. We've got African-Americans, Latinos, Chinese folks and lots of other minority groups in Texas. It's not just Cowboy Bill and his wife Sue. Still, when I came to Ottawa, I was stunned by the diversity of its population. On the same bus I saw gothic White brats, hijab-wearing Muslim girls from places like Somalia, Turkey, Lebanon and sari-clad Hindu women. Wow, this place was something else. The women from Somalia fascinated me the most.

I've never seen such a uniquely beautiful ethnic group, and I know a thing or two about racial and ethnic diversity. As a half Haitian, half Mexican guy born and raised in Texas, I'm multiethnic my damn self. Yeah, I became fascinated with Somali ladies and would often approach and befriend them. They were a bit reserved in their dealings with me because they're Muslim and as Muslim women they have strict rules to follow in their interactions with the opposite sex. Instead of rebuffing me, this arms-length method them Somali women had of dealing with men drew me in even more.

This fascination for all things related to Somali women only intensified once I met the lovely Ayanna Abdikarim. The lady was tall, curvy, big-bottomed and absolutely beautiful...and she was my supervisor. The museum employed thirty five security guards, who watched the site 24/7. Some of us were in the camera room, others were on patrol, looking after the museum's exhibits and all that jazz. The team was split into day, evening, overnight and weekend divisions. Ayanna Abdikarim was the day shift supervisor.

The first time I laid eyes on that woman, I knew I had to have her. I love a sister with a curvy body and a thick, round booty. And when said sister also happens to wear the hijab, hot damn, I get turned on just looking at her. That's why I set out to seduce Ayanna Abdikarim. Never mind that she's a devout Muslim who takes breaks during the workday to pray and I'm a lapsed Christian who lusts after her every chance I get. Never mind that we're from completely different worlds. I wanted that woman as badly as I wanted my next breath. Ayanna shall be mine if it's the last thing I do, I vowed to myself.

As you can imagine, I was headed for trouble. I relentlessly pursued the lovely Muslim gal who was the object of my affections. Basically I flirted, hollered, and stalked her. In no uncertain terms she let me know that she was not interested. I can only be with a Muslim man and a non-creepy one at that, Ayanna told me loudly one afternoon at work. Alright, I said, and watched as she walked away, sashaying that thick Somali booty from side to side. How do I get up in that? The solution to my problem came unexpectedly. You see, I've always been the bold, assertive type, for good and for ill.

The neighborhood where I live is filled with religious institutions. There's a Haitian Baptist church, a Lebanese Christian church, a Methodist Assembly, a Greek Orthodox church, a Jewish Temple and a mosque. Late one night, while walking around, I saw some punks trying to set fire to the mosque. I rushed into the mosque's courtyard and confronted the bozos. There were three of them. I punched one dude's lights out but his buddies had knives and they got me good, man. They stuck me like a pig. I fell to the ground, basically a goner. When I woke up, three days later, I was in a room at the Ottawa General Hospital.

I had more people visiting me and talking to me that day than in all the previous months I spent in Canada. My aunt and uncle came by to visit, thanking God that I was still alive. My parents had flown in from Texas and we exchanged hugs and tears as we were reunited. The pretty Arab female doctor told me that I was lucky to be alive. It was touch and go for a while young man, Dr. Alexandra Shiraz told me. I know it doc, I said with a smile. My last visitor for the day turned out to be none other than Ayanna Abdikarim. I have been praying to Allah for you, she said, with tears in her eyes.

Man, I was stunned. Usually, whenever Ayanna and I spoke, I would flirt with her and she would tell me to go fuck myself. I'd say something clever like I'd rather do her instead, and she'd threaten to file a harassment complaint about me. Yeah, I may have overplayed my ability to charm the female of the species. Basically women find me annoying and obnoxious and can't stand to have me around. You can imagine how surprised I was to see Ayanna actually happy to see me. My father Ali is the Imam of the mosque you saved and he has ordered a day of prayer for your health, Ayanna said happily. I didn't know what an Imam was but I smiled and nodded. I couldn't stand by and let them burn a house dedicated to the God we all love and worship, I said, trying to sound deep.

Man, my voice sounded weak even to my ears but apparently, Ayanna liked what she heard. You are a good man Solomon and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it, Ayanna said, gently touching my hand. I looked at her hand on mine and smiled. Thank you my sister, I said, meaning it. Ayanna smiled and then gave me a hug. Sleep well, she said, gently kissing me on the cheek. Then she walked out of the room. I lay there, wishing I could get up to jump up and down. I was on cloud nine, dude! It took me three months of intense physiotherapy to get back on my feet....the stabbing that almost ended my life nearly crippled me.

My family was there for me every step of the way, and so was Ayanna. It turns out that my hijab-clad ex-supervisor was also a former athlete. Ayanna Abdikarim once played rugby for the University of Calgary in Alberta, so she knew a thing or two about physical fitness. That's awesome because I'm a couch potato. In those trying days, we actually bonded. I learned much about this young Somali Muslim woman I found myself falling for. Her mother Samira died giving birth to her and her father Ali was a fairly laidback kind of guy, considering he was the leader of the local Islamic community. He raised his only daughter to be a strong and ambitious gal. Ayanna had a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice from the University of Calgary and hoped to get into Law School someday but harsh circumstances forced her to put that dream on hold. That's why she was working security in Ottawa.

You'll accomplish your dreams someday my sweet sister, I told Ayanna one night, as we walked out of the Silver City movie theater. Thank you for believing in me, Ayanna said. I looked at her, and she looked so beautiful in her long-sleeved blue T-shirt, long Black skirt and stylish dark gray hijab. Impulsively I took her face in my hands and kissed her. For a moment Ayanna froze, and I thought I'd done the wrong thing. I'm extremely bad at reading women. I always misread the cues. In the back of my mind I readied myself to apologize for what I'd done. Then something surprising happened. Ayanna put her arms around me and kissed me back with a passion which surprised us both. You've got sweet lips Mister Texas, Ayanna said, smiling, when we came up for air.

I smiled at Ayanna, feeling happy and relieved. You are amazing, I said. Hand in hand we left the Silver City theater and then made our way back downtown. That night, I told my parents how I felt about Ayanna, and they gave me their blessing. My Somali sweetheart and I began officially dating, and I embraced her, and her culture, and her faith. A year later, I took my Shahada at the very mosque where I almost died. I was reborn as a Muslim, taking the name Suleiman. It's the Arabic name of the Biblical King Solomon, who is respected in the Quran and the Torah. Ayanna and I got married, her father Ali officiated at our wedding, and we now have a son, Omar Joseph Chandelier. At long last, I found peace, love and happiness. I thank the Most High for His blessings. Peace be upon you.