"Old man, you must curse me even in death, I don't care what you think, it's my life," Razane Al-Bilali said angrily, and the young woman clicked off the telephone, and closed her eyes, hard. Sitting on a quiet corner of the third-floor stairwell inside the Carleton University library, Razane bravely fought the tears that were coming, and found that she simply couldn't stop them. When will my life belong to me? Razane wondered, and she shook her head vehemently.
Every person who has lived through such a trauma remembers where they were when someone told them that their mother or father died. Losing a parent isn't something that anyone ever truly gets over. It's like a part of the person's soul is gone, like a part of them died. For Razane, the atrocious news of her father Ahmed Al-Bilali's death are like a double-edged sword, to say the least...
The news of Razane's father's death, delivered by her distant cousin Ali from the City of Beirut, Lebanon, shocked the young woman. Even more shocking? The fact that, like a certain deceased conservative American politician, Razane's father saw fit to declare that his only daughter be banned from attending his funeral. In his last months of life, the old man returned to the land of his birth, shunning all contact with his only progeny over her life choices.
"You bitter old man," Razane cried out, as the tears streamed down her lovely face. Anyone looking at her would have seen a tall, curvy, attractive young Middle-Eastern woman with dark bronze skin, long curly black hair and light brown eyes. Clad in a dark gray vest over a white blouse and dark gray Capri pants, Razane looked both professional and sexy. At the age of twenty three, she'd already accomplished a lot.
Nature blessed Razane Al-Bilali with that rare combination of personality, brains and beauty, and plenty more, too. She has her business administration degree from Carleton University and a pretty good job as an account manager with the downtown Ottawa branch of the Toronto Dominion Bank. Lovely, educated and accomplished, Razane is the daughter that many people wished they had...except for her parents.
"Razane, how could you share your life with an Abeed ( slave )? We raised you better than that," said Razane's father, Ahmed Al-Bilali, the man she affectionately referred to as Baba. Lying in bed, his body ravaged by diabetes and arthritis, the wizened old man from Beirut, who was more than a decade older than Razane's late mother Aida, glared murderously at his only daughter. If looks could kill, Razane would have been deader than Disco...
"Baba, please, listen to me, Omar isn't what you think, he's a good man from a good family, just meet him and you will see," Razane protested, and she was about to add another word, but something caused her to freeze. For the supposedly feeble old Arab man, summoning his last reserve of strength, struck his only daughter, slapping Razane hard across the face, a sound that echoed like thunder in the cramped bedroom.
"I don't need to meet him, Razane, Omar is African, he's Black, their whole race disgusts me, if I were back home in Beirut and you shamed me this way, I'd kill you where you stand," Ahmed Al-Bilali shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth. Razane looked at her father and rubbed her face where he'd struck her, and shook her head resignedly. Sighing, Razane then walked out of the bedroom, and out of her father's life. The embittered old man hollered after her, calling her a harlot in Arabic...
"You're a disgusting racist, and I don't care what you think," Razane retorted as she reached the front door, too far for the shoe that Ahmed threw to hit her, but close enough that he heard her very last words to him. Razane hurried out of the house in which she'd grown up, a lovely townhouse located in the Cambrian area of Barrhaven, Ontario. She got in her car, a bright red Rav4, and sped away...
A lot of people in interracial relationships, interfaith relationships or same-sex relationships fear telling their parents or family members about the person they've fallen in love with. For Razane, the proud daughter of Ahmed Al-Bilali, a wealthy, powerful Lebanese-Canadian Muslim businessman, the owner of Bilali Motors, revealing to her father that she'd fallen in love with Omar Diouf of Senegal was akin to a suicide mission...
Overnight, Razane found herself ostracized by family members far and wide. In Arab society, it's considered perfectly okay for the men to date or even marry women of other races, other cultures, other religions. The women, however, are prevented from making the same choices because of basic male insecurity, which hides behind various patriarchal rules and traditions.
Razane, who'd been born in the City of Nabatieh, Lebanon, and raised in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, dared to break the mold by making her own choices. That's when all hell broke loose. Razane's father basically disowned her, and he even cancelled her monthly allowance of three grand. Fortunately, Razane had a job with the bank, and knew how to take care of herself. She loved Omar and kept hoping that her Baba would come around, but he never did. He held onto his hatred and ignorance for the rest of his life.
Razane Al-Bilali is a smart, headstrong young Lebanese-Canadian Muslim woman. Still, every woman is her father's daughter, and deep down inside her heart, there is a part of her that will never stop loving her Baba. That's why she was doubly shocked by the news of his death, and his request that she be prevented from attending his funeral in their homeland of Lebanon. That was the straw that broke the camel's back...
When Razane finally reached home, the two-bedroom apartment she shared with her boyfriend Omar Diouf, she was still in tears. Omar, who'd come home from his job as a Corrections Officer at the Ottawa-Carleton Detention Center, was still wearing his uniform. In his hand he held a Coors light, and he flashed Razane a bright smile when she practically stormed in. The look on her lovely face made his jaw drop, and he hurried to his beloved...
"Razane, babe, are you okay?" Omar asked as he pulled her into his arms, and Razane nearly collapsed in his embrace, all strength gone from her. Omar swiftly carried her over to the nearby couch and laid her there, then he grabbed a nearby blanket and pulled it over her. Razane was trembling, and he knew it had nothing to do with the fierceness of the Ontario winter, whose first storm was battering the City of Ottawa's vast landscape.
"Baba hates me even from beyond the grave," Razane lamented, and Omar took her hand and gently kissed it, then beckoned for her to speak. Razane sighed, wiped her moist eyes and took a deep breath. As Omar listened attentively, concern all over his dark, handsome face, Razane gave him a blow by blow description of the phone call that changed her life.
"Razane, I wouldn't presume to know what you're going through, but I'm here for you babe," Omar said in his deep, passionate voice. Cupping Razane's chin in his big hand, he looked into her lovely chestnut eyes. From the first moment Omar laid eyes on Razane while visiting Carleton University with his cousin Aisha a few years back, he was mesmerized by the tall, cute young woman with the lively eyes. Cultural barriers be damned, Omar knew he had to approach Razane, and so he did...
On that fateful day, Razane was working for guest services at the campus, giving campus tours to future students and their families. There were thirteen people in the tour group Razane was escorting and two of them really stood out, a tall, plump young Senegalese woman named Aisha Diouf, and her even taller, handsome and well-dressed cousin Omar. They had a lot of questions about student life at Carleton University, so many that Razane had trouble keeping up...
