"Good Muslim girls aren't supposed to mess around with Christian guys, especially the ones who are teaching them," Nabila Osman's best friend Fatima Yassin reminded her, and the young Somali-American Muslim woman nodded sagely, as though heeding her friend's words. The sarcastic glint in Nabila's golden brown eyes told her friend Fatima otherwise. Fatima sighed, knowing that her favorite stubborn Somali Muslim gal pal was not about to heed her words of wisdom, and would instead continue along her chosen path...
"Fatima, get real, the men of our faith waltz all over town with those white girls in short skirts whom we both know sure as hell aren't Muslim, and yet we're supposed to be docile and obedient, and just wait for them to come to their senses and choose us? Fuck that shit," Nabila retorted, in a truly heated, borderline angry tone of voice. Once more Fatima sighed, and when she next addressed Fatima, her tone was borderline icy...
"Nabila, do what you want but be prepared to suffer the consequences," Fatima said, and she rolled her eyes at Nabila, who grinned and shrugged. They knew how to push each other's buttons like only best friends could. The two young Muslim women were seated at a Starbucks located within walking distance of the University of Minnesota campus. A welcome interlude of sorts, between classes. The place was popular with students and working professionals operating in downtown Minneapolis, mainly due to its diverse, friendly staff.
For lack of a better term, this particular Starbucks was Fatima and Nabila's favorite watering hole, of sorts. They'd been coming here since they met freshman year, during Intro to Civil Engineering. They were two of only eleven female students in a classroom of thirty, and the only Muslims. The two young women forged an incredible bond, and supported each other through thick and thin. Four years later, they were still going strong, and hanging out in the same place...
"Fatima, I know you mean well but it's my life," Nabila Osman replied, and she gently laid her hand on Fatima's, and smiled. Fatima forced a brave smile, and nodded. She kind of felt guilty for not supporting Nabila, since Nabila had been her strongest supporter when she got engaged to her beloved Mahmoud Ali, a handsome young Mauritanian Muslim whom she fell in love with. The heart wants what the heart wants, Fatima reminded herself.
Fatima's family originally came from Palestine and like a lot of Arabs, they had a dislike of Africans. They found Fatima's relationship with Mahmoud downright scandalous and unacceptable. Mahmoud, who was born and raised in the City of Nouakchott, Mauritania, came to the University of Minnesota as an international student. Fatima Yassin met Mahmoud Ali during a meeting for Muslim students at U of M, and the two of them fell in love. For ages, their relationship was kept secret, known only to Fatima's best friend Nabila Osman, and with good reasons.
Alas, eventually, Fatima's parents Mohamed and Noor Yassin learned the truth. They were incensed when they found out about Mahmoud the tall, dark-skinned young man from Mauritania and their precious daughter Fatima, to put it mildly. Fatima's only saving grace was that she'd been renting a place with her best friend Nabila, otherwise her life would have been forfeit. Bad things happen to young Muslim women whose families disapprove of their relationships.
Fatima Yassin was not about to go down like so many other young women from similar backgrounds, and she had the full support of her lover Mahmoud and her best friend Nabila. After receiving death threats, the young interracial Muslim couple moved out into an apartment in the Golden Valley suburb of Minneapolis. Mahmoud recently proposed to Fatima, who happily accepted. Through it all, Nabila supported her best friend, and now she was kind of pissed at Fatima's lack of support for her relationship...
"Fatima, Yohannes Gemeda makes me happy, when I'm with him, I feel like I can fly," Nabila said, and a dreamy look crept into the young woman's beautiful face. Fatima nodded, and gave her best friend's hand a firm squeeze. The two young women exchanged a smile, and then gathered their belongings. They walked the short distance to the University of Minnesota campus, one of the busiest spots in all of metropolitan Minneapolis, and headed to class.
"Well, Nabila, I wish you and Yohannes much happiness, and don't forget to invite me to the wedding," Fatima teased, and Nabila playfully slapped her shoulder, then gave her a hug. They headed to Engineering Dynamics, a fourth-year civil engineering class taught by Professor Yohannes Gemeda, formerly of Ethiopia, and one of a few Black male professors at the University of Minnesota. Nabila beamed when she saw Mr. Gemeda, and waved at him. The prof smiled at her and nodded, and then spoke to the entire class.
"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, this afternoon we're going to focus on your fourth-year engineering projects," Professor Gemeda said, and all eyes were on the professor as he spoke about the ins and outs of the defining project of these students academic careers. Six feet three inches tall, with dark brown skin and a smooth shaved head, clad in a Black leather vest over a white silk shirt, Black silk pants and Black Timberland boots, Professor Gemeda cut a dashing figure. Many students, female and male, had crushes on him, but the forty-something academic only had eyes for one lady...
As was her custom, Nabila Osman sat on the front row, next to a bunch of bored-looking White guys, and her best friend Fatima Yassin, of course. This class's gender demographics were a bit better than freshman year. Thirty six students, including seventeen females, three Latinos, six Arabs, five African Americans and two Asians. Everyone else was some variety of Caucasian, as was to be expected of the population of the Great Lakes region.
"Focus on the lesson plan and stop gawking at the professor's crotch," Fatima whispered into Nabila's ear, and the young Somali Muslim woman giggled, and busied herself taking notes. As class went on, Professor Gemeda spoke, but Nabila didn't really listen. She kept thinking about all the mean and sexy things that she and Yohannes did the last time the two of them got together for some wicked, kinky fun...
"You're not like any woman I've ever known," Yohannes said to Nabila, as the six-foot-tall, brown-skinned and curvy young Somali Muslim woman walked up to him, stark naked, those dangerous curves of hers begging for his attention. Nabila leaned against the kitchen counter, and gestured for Yohannes to come to her. The tall, hunky middle-aged professor didn't know it but he was about to learn a thing or two...