"As Salaam Alaikum, sisters, I come here to give you a warning, you see, in the Islamic world, the rampant racism and sexism are both hidden and in-your-face, there is a lot of hatred for darker-skinned people, especially Black Africans, across the Arab world and beyond, many women are pressured into marriage to men they do not like, and they face reprisals when they object," said Nouzha Boussaid, addressing the meeting of her sorority sisters.
Nouzha stood at the podium, and she could be described best as a slight woman, only five-foot-seven, a bit curvy, with the light brown skin, dark eyes and dark hair common to the people of Northern Africa. Born in the City of Nador, northeastern Morocco, Nouzha is a newcomer to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, where she studies Political Science at Carleton University. Tonight, Nouzha has decided to speak truth to power, as they say...
The twenty six young women in the room listened with rapt attention as the young Moroccan Muslim woman spoke, describing at great length the plight of women and racial minorities in her part of the world. They were in the Tory Building at Carleton University in Ottawa, with nary a man around, safe and sound as they discussed matters of import to all women.
The death of the Shafia women in the City of Kingston, Ontario, at the hands of their own family members shocked Canada and the world. For the first time, Canadians found themselves looking at the country's growing Muslim minority as they learned about honor killings. The killing of a woman by her own family members because she wouldn't follow the iron-clad rules of their religion or culture, and was seen as shaming the family with her behavior. As a Muslim woman and a feminist, Nouzha felt compelled to speak up.
"A lot of this hits close to home, and with good reason, you see, my own family has disavowed me and sworn to end my life because I've fallen in love with a man from an African background, my fiancé Bilal is amazing, he's a good Muslim and a great guy, but my father could not see past his skin color," Nouzha continued, and she paused for effect, looking at her audience.
"Go on, Nouzha," said a slender, blonde-haired young white woman sitting at the front row, and Nouzha paused and nodded at Beatrice Martin, her roommate. The young Quebecoise gave her the thumbs up sign, and a smiling Nouzha continued. I can always count on having Beatrice in my corner, Nouzha thought, thankful to her bestie for having her back.
"The worst part is that a lot of terrible things happen in places like Morocco, Yemen, Mauritania, Iraq and Saudi Arabia, the darker-skinned people are treated as no better than animals, in Yemen, the local Africans live on the edge of society, foraging among the refuse from the big cities," Nouzha continued, and she shook her head, recalling the horrors that she had seen.
When most people thought of slavery, they envisioned a white person with a southern accent beating on black folks in an antebellum mansion somewhere in Alabama or Texas before the American civil war. That's the popular image. In the Arab world, long before the first European went to Africa on a slave-trading quest, slavery had existed for thousands of years.
The Arabs were the first to enslave Africans, and what they did to the sons and daughters of the African motherland was atrocious, to say the least. The African male slaves they often castrated and turned into eunuchs before using them as a labor force, and the African female slaves they used for sexual purposes, siring many mixed-race offspring upon them.
The majority of today's Afro-Arabian people, commonly found in places ranging from Somalia to Yemen, from Mauritania to parts of Iraq and Libya, are descended from African women whom the Arabs had their way with. Many Arab scholars deny this, and claim that while atrocities were visited upon Africans during the Age of Islamic Conquest, once many African nations embraced Islam, those atrocities ceased. If only that were true...
"People were shocked when they heard about Libyans capturing African migrants in the high seas and selling them as slaves on the shores of Libya, in the age of Facebook and cellphones, but they needn't be surprised, slavery is happening right now in places like Saudi Arabia and Mauritania, and nobody's talking about it," Nouzha said, her anger rising.
"What can we do about it?" said a young woman seated next to Beatrice, a short-haired, dark-skinned, Amazonian gal whom Nouzha recognized as Laila Jacobson, from the Carleton University women's rugby squad. The young black woman looked at Nouzha, right in the eyes, and did not blink. Nouzha met Laila's stare, and nodded firmly.
"We must speak out, as women of all races, because it's up to us to be the conscience of the communities in which we live," Nouzha said, and upon hearing that, Laila nodded firmly. Beatrice and Laila exchanged a glance, and then held hands. A few minutes later, Nouzha concluded her speech, after rounding up the main point, the rampant racism and sexism found in the Muslim world.
"Sisters, please don't think that just because we live in Canada, that women are safe from this barbarism that would deny Muslim women the right to choose their husbands, and puts darker-skinned people at the bottom of the totem pole in Islamic societies, they're here, they still have that mindset, and we must combat it," Nouzha said, and that statement was met with thunderous applause.
"You were on fire up there," Laila said, and the young woman impulsively shook Nouzha's hand, causing her to smile. Nouzha then hugged her roommate Beatrice, who squealed excitedly. The entire speech had been filmed and would be put on YouTube. Nouzha felt nervous about the whole thing, for she knew she would be making herself a target. Muslim women who spoke up against certain practices in their communities often met an untimely end. Still, Nouzha wouldn't back down...
"Hey, Nouzha, someone's here to see you," Beatrice said, and the blonde Quebecoise went and opened the door, revealing a vision of masculine beauty. Bilal Thurston stood there, clad in a black leather jacket over a red silk shirt, black silk pants and his trademark black timberland boots. The brother's head was shaved, as was his face. His full lips parted in a smile as bright and white as his skin was beautifully dark.
"Salaam, ladies," Bilal said, and he smiled as he stepped into the room full of women, cheerfully greeting Beatrice and her girlfriend Laila, whom he was already acquainted with. Bilal looked for his favorite diminutive Moroccan cutie, and soon found her. Nouzha was just getting off the podium when she saw...him. That's when her heart skipped a beat, and the normally imperturbable young woman stepped forward excitedly, nearly tripping in the process.
"Salaam, handsome," Nouzha said, as she threw herself into Bilal's arms. Laila and Beatrice looked on, smiling and shaking their heads. Love is love, Beatrice thought. She was well aware of how strongly her roommate Nouzha felt about Bilal Thurston, the proud son of African American Muslims from the Chicago branch of the controversial Nation of Islam who moved to Antigua in the 1990s to escape 'the man' and raised their son there.
