"Salaam, Fatou, Jummah Mubarak, gorgeous, how are you doing?" Nagla Massoud whispered into Fatouma Kandeh's ear, and the six-foot-tall, brown-skinned, Afro-sporting young African Muslim woman turned around and smiled. Standing at the cash, waiting on slow-moving, short-tempered and often foul-mouthed customers to drop their crap on the counter so she could scan it and process the transaction got boring fast, and after six hours of this, Fatouma might as well be on autopilot. And then Nagla finally came...
Fatouma's lovely brown eyes sparkled with a special light that always came into them whenever her darling Nagla was near. Never mind that this had been a particularly tiresome day at the Walmart Supercenter where they both worked. To Fatouma, Nagla's comforting presence was as welcome as the sun clearing through a cloudy sky...and then some.
For Nagla, the day started out stressful enough. Rent was due and after paying it, she barely had enough for groceries and a few other things. Oh, and there was also the fact that some construction crew was blasting and drilling in the wee hours of the morning in her neighborhood. Nagla worked ten-hour days and usually got home late at night, so this just wouldn't do. Still, the young woman forgot about all her problems when her sweetie smiled at her.
"Better, now that you're here, sweetie," Fatouma replied, and Nagla nodded and grinned. Even clad in a blue work shirt and Black Yoga pants, Fatouma looked absolutely gorgeous. Born in the City of Banjul, Gambia, to a Gambian Muslim father and a Mauritanian mother, Fatouma is the daughter of two unique worlds. A newcomer to Ottawa, the young African Muslim woman was studying business at Algonquin College while working part-time as a cashier at Walmart to make ends meet...
"Come see me during your break, let's do lunch at Thai Express," Nagla suggested, and Fatouma smiled and winked at her. Nagla smiled and winked back, and then resumed her duties as a customer service manager. She'd been working at this Walmart, located in a particularly sketchy corner of the City of Ottawa, Ontario, for six years now. The place absolutely sucked, but lately, Nagla didn't mind the dreary routine as much. The reason why? The lovely and feisty Fatouma, she of the enchanting smile and amazing derriere...
Born in the City of Kunduz, Afghanistan, and raised in the Capital region of Canada, Nagla Massoud is, by all counts, a woman of mystery. Just under six feet tall, with light bronze skin and simmering dark brown eyes, her raven hair almost always tucked away under her collection of brightly colored Hijabs, Nagla is fiercely proud of her Afghan heritage and Islamic faith. Yet she's very much a woman of the world.
Educated in accounting at the University of Ottawa, Nagla Massoud is smart, ambitious and driven, yet circumstances have forced her into a line of work far beneath her formidable intellectual capabilities. Being a customer service manager at Walmart was not what Nagla spent years at the University of Ottawa for. In the City of Ottawa, Ontario, there's a pecking order. Middle-aged White people get all the professional jobs, followed by young White people, and in the name of diversity they allow a sprinkling of minorities.
It wasn't easy being a Hijab-wearing young Muslim woman in the City of Ottawa, and Nagla Massoud knew that upholding her faith by wearing the hijab probably hindered her prospects when she looked for jobs in her field of study. Nagla saw the way the other women in the wait rooms of various job interview spots and office staffing solutions looked at her. With a mixture of surprise and pity. All of these young women knew that Nagla wouldn't get hired because outward displays of her Islamic faith made White Canadians uncomfortable.
Nagla Massoud knew exactly what she was up against, and the stalwart, driven young Afghan Muslim woman absolutely refused to give up. The fake-smiling, passive-aggressive White folks working for human resources only allowed a few Blacks, Arabs, Latinos, Indians, Chinese and other minorities into the professional work force. Even though Canadians like to think of themselves as a tolerant and friendly bunch, their dislike of Muslims is all too evident. It was Canada's dirty little secret, it would seem.
When her break came, Nagla Massoud happily clocked out, and then walked from Walmart to the nearby Thai Express restaurant. Sitting down at her favorite spot by the window, the young woman thought of all the twists and turns that her life had taken recently. Life in the City of Ottawa sucked, and Nagla was sick of it. Today more than most days, Nagla wished she were a million miles away from the Capital of Canada.
Nagla truly felt sick of it all, and then some. Sick of her mother and sisters, well-meaning and traditional-minded Afghans one and all, constantly trying to set her up with random Muslim guys, even though they knew she was a lesbian. Sick of the hassles of working at Walmart, dealing with mean associates and meaner clients. Sick of the casual racism hurled her way by random White people because of her skin color and Hijab...
"So, you like my pants?" Fatouma asked, hands on her hips, as she stood before Nagla's table inside Thai Express, forty five minutes later. Nagla, who'd been moodily biting into her chow-min rice and beef while reviewing her life, almost choked. For the young woman standing before her was a vision of absolute beauty. Having ditched her blue work-shirt for a bright red and Black tank top which matched her Black yoga pants and sneakers, Fatouma looked fantastic.
"Yes I do," Nagla replied, and Fatouma grinned and pulled the chair, then plopped her shapely ass down in it. Nagla smiled at Fatouma and gently laid her hand on hers. Fatouma squeezed Nagla's hand, and then brought it to her lips and kissed it. Nagla's heart skipped a beat. It was astonishing how much she loved this fearless, feisty young woman. Indeed, Fatouma was like an injection of life into Nagla's otherwise dreary existence...
