As Salam Alaikum, dear friends. May the Creator smile upon you today. Got a story to share with you. My name is Zaynab "Nana" Samatar, and I'm a young Somali-American Muslim woman living in the City of Saint Paul, Minnesota. My parents, Halima and Abdirahman Samatar moved to the U.S. from their hometown of Mogadishu, Somalia, in 1988 and I was born three years later. These days, I attend Hamline University School of Law, and I want to be a lawyer so badly I can taste it.
"Zaynab, you need to get some sleep," said my roommate Deirdre Goldstein, startling the hell out of me as I sat at the computer in our living room, and tried to do research on the death penalty and its racial discrepancies. Not an easy topic to research, especially since it hits so close to home for me. I know all too well how the system can cause a person's life to spiral out of control.
One of my uncles, Mohammed Samatar, spent five years in prison for a crime he did not commit. After he got out, he successfully sued the state for millions but that still doesn't make up for the time he lost. I hate the American government and how it uses the criminal justice system to oppress people of color, I swear. I keep thinking that in another time, my uncle might have been executed. I hate the death penalty and want it abolished in the United States of America.
The bias in the criminal justice is all too evident nowadays. White guys like Dylan Storm Roof who've killed people and were armed when approached by the police are taken in alive, but the cops will be justified in shooting an unarmed lad like Tamir Rice just because he was black. I want to be a lawyer so I can help my people. Yes I support Black Lives Matter and have gone to the rallies. Don't like it? You can kiss my thick Somali-American derriere!
"I've got to finish this paper, sweetie," I said, and I turned around to see Deirdre facing me, clad in a red tank top and booty shorts. I smiled as I looked her up and down, and Deirdre winked at me. Five-foot-eleven, a bit on the chubby side, with reddish blonde hair, alabaster skin and blue eyes, Deirdre is definitely a cutie. Deirdre is Jewish but secular and I'm a practicing Muslim. She's studying culinary arts at Saint Paul College. We met last year when I replied to an ad for a female roommate, and we have been together ever since. Yes, that kind of together.
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I am queer. I am a Muslim woman of Somali descent who loves women. Yes I wear the Hijab. Does my family know about me? Um, yeah. And matter of fact, they're super chill with it. The idea of a Somali Muslim family being accepting of their lesbian daughter shocks you, eh? Muslims are often viewed as simple and one-dimensional, strict and religious and intolerant, when seen through the eyes of Western society. Well, we're not. In fact, we're as complex as you are.
"Damn, it's not enough that my sons Khalif and Ahmed are into white girls, my only daughter has to be into them too?" said my Hooyo ( mother ) after I told her about Deirdre and me. Mom and I sat in the family living room at our house in the City of Duluth, Minnesota. We were sipping Shaah Adays, or homemade spicy tea, a well-known Somali tradition. I looked at my mother and she looked at me, and then we both burst out laughing.
Last year, my older brother Khalif, who studied civil engineering at the University of Minnesota came home with Natalie Stagliano, the plump, dark-haired Italian chick he intends to marry. They live on the west end of Saint Paul now and have a son, my nephew Ali. My other brother Ahmed is dating Amber Pennington, whom he met while studying business at Saint Catherine University. Yup, it would seem that we definitely like white chicks in my family.
"Sorry, Mom, must be something in the water," I said, and Mom slapped me on the shoulder and laughed some more. I laughed as well, thrilled by her reaction. My mother Halima Samatar is the matriarch of our family and what she says goes. My father is a bit more conservative than she is, but I know that if she's okay with me being me, then Dad will be too. My brothers already know that I'm queer, and they're fine with it.
"Damn, little sister, it seems all the Samatar siblings like their snow bunnies," those were the words that my elder brother Khalif said to me the day I decided to tell him that I, his sole sister, am a lesbian. My brother pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the forehead. I hugged my brother fiercely, and tears of happiness streamed down my face.
"Thank you," I said, and Khalif smiled and nodded. I can't tell you how thankful I am to come from such an accepting family. I see stuff in the news about queer Muslims and it's never anything good. I read about a Muslim gal in the U.K. whose family attacked her and her girlfriend after finding out they were "more than friends". The case made headlines around the world, for a variety of reasons.
Another case hit much closer to home. While browsing a Somali forum online, I was disturbed to read a story about a woman who got stoned by an angry crowd in Somalia after they found out she had been living with another woman. Once their secret relationship was exposed, it meant their death warrant. Homosexuality and lesbianism aren't tolerated in Somalia. Lucky for me my family is more accepting.
Here I am, living with my girlfriend Deirdre, as an openly gay Somali-American woman who wears the Hijab, and I have the full support of my family. The other Somali queer women I know ( believe me, there's a lot of us in Minnesota ) aren't so lucky. Most of them hide who they are from their families. When you're a Muslim woman, whether you are straight, bisexual or gay, sex and love are complex things to navigate. For religion and culture are thrown into the mix.
