A Somalian Lesbian Love Story

Every time I see her, my heart flutters. My name is Fatima Al-Fatah and I am one of those women. What do I mean by that? That's kind of complicated. Do I mean Black women? Definitely. Muslim women? Absolutely. Immigrant women living in the Confederation of Canada? Totally. But what I really mean to say is that I am one of those women who love other women. A lesbian. I think that I've been one all of my life. I was born and raised in the great Nation of Somaliland. I moved to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, about ten years ago. I just graduated from Algonquin College's Police Foundations program and in September 2011 I am heading to Carleton University.

It should be one of the best times of my life. In truth, it sure looks like it. I won the scholarship I desperately needed in order to attend the school of my choice. My parents, Kader and Adelmira Al-Fatah are so proud of me. My father is a corrections officer in the City of Ottawa and my mother works for the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce as an Account Manager. Just another law-abiding Somalian family that you never hear about. My older brother Mohammed recently stunned the family by marrying this woman named Ingrid Madison. She's very tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed. She's also from the United Kingdom. She's not a Muslim. And she's convinced my brother, once a devout Muslim, to embrace the Catholic faith. Yeah, needless to say my parents aren't happy. They say they're not going to attend the wedding. I am shocked by Mohammed's actions but I hope my parents will come around. Don't they know that love is love?

My brother Mohammed and I have always been close. When he decided to study business administration instead of criminal justice at the University of Ottawa, in clear defiance of our father's plans for him, I was the first person he told. Mohammed introduced me to Ingrid, and I realized how special she was. She truly loves my brother. And I guess I understand why he left our world for her. However, at the time that I need him the most, my brother is making Cupid eyes at a white chick. I'm going through some turmoil of my own. You see, I have fallen in love for the first time. Her name is Atifah, and she is of Somali descent like myself. Except that she was raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, by a wealthy white couple from America, Liam and Anna Kensington. Atifah's full name is Atifah Abdul Kensington. And she considers herself African-American rather than Somalian. She doesn't wear the veil. And she made history by being the first international student to lead the Carleton University women's soccer team to the national championships.

I'm a short, round gal whom most people don't notice. And I've fallen in love with this tall, athletic young Black woman who looks like an angel. You have got to see Atifah to know what I am talking about, folks. She is tall and athletic, with dark brown skin and long, lustrous black hair. Her almond-shaped brown eyes are shiny, bright and exquisitely beautiful. She's got a body that Olympic athletes would envy and a butt that should be bronzed and put in a museum somewhere because it is most definitely a work of art. Is it any wonder that I fell in love with the lovely Atifah the moment I laid eyes on her? I was attending a Carleton University women's soccer team with my brother Mohammed. Even though Mohammed graduated from Carleton University three years ago with his bachelor's degree in business and now attends York University, he still comes to Carleton University sporting events. He used to play soccer and basketball for Carleton University.

That afternoon, the players of the Carleton University women's soccer team were taking on the gals of McGill University. Even though McGill University is an academic powerhouse, their athletes suck. And Carleton University handily beat them. Mainly due to the stalwart performance of a tall, exquisitely beautiful young Black woman who ran like the wind and seemed to be everywhere at once on the soccer field. We beat McGill five zero. It was amazing. Their worst defeat of the soccer season, I think. While Mohammed cheered, I checked out the captain of our team. The tall, beautiful Black woman I couldn't take my eyes off of. Later, I ran into her when I went by the Carleton Student Center. I was having some problems with my new access card. Anyhow, the first time our eyes met, I felt something pass between us. Sure, we were as different as can be. She's six-foot-one and I'm five-foot-seven. She's built like she could be on the UFC Fighting Team and I'm a couch potato. Yet when our eyes met we both smiled. At once I knew what she was and she knew what I am. We were both queer as can be. It's something only gays and lesbians possess. An innate ability to detect our own kind.

That day, in an uncharacteristically bold moment, I walked up to her and introduced myself. We shook hands. Thus we met. Atifah and I were destined to become friends. Sadly, I wanted to become more. She knew I was gay and so was she. However, from day one she saw me as the buddy type. Story of my life. I'm friends with beautiful gay and bisexual women...who never see me as the type of woman they want in their romantic lives. Yet this time, I was determined to break the cycle. I desperately wanted Atifah to be mine. She was amazing, you see. When I came out to my parents, she was there for me. More so than my usually supportive beloved older brother Mohammed, who's following Ingrid around Ontario like a lovesick puppy. Men! My parents kicked me out. My brother gave me some money but wouldn't let me move in with him and his British fiancée. Atifah let me stay at her place as long as I helped out with the rent. Anyhow, I wanted Atifah more than ever. Living with her had intensified my feelings for her. And one day, I gathered my courage and got ready to tell her.

We were walking through Saint Laurent Mall. She looked totally sexy in a bright red T-shirt and blue jeans, along with a Boston Red Sox baseball cap. I had on my usual long-sleeved black shirt, long dark brown robes and my hijab. For I am a devout Muslim through and true. We went upstairs and bought some delicious Chinese food from Manchu Wok. As Atifah and I sat down and talked about the usual stuff, I looked into her eyes. Gently, I touched her hand. Atifah looked at me, startled. My heart was going really fast. I told her that I loved her. And then, I leaned over and kissed her. All around us, people stared. I guess they weren't used to seeing a young Black woman in Muslim gear kissing another pretty Black woman. Atifah surprised me by kissing me back passionately. All hesitation was gone from her. All around us, I could hear guys hollering. Atifah and I looked at them and smiled. Proudly we got up and walked out of the food court, hand in hand.

Once we got home, the fire works happened. Atifah and I were both virgins. I had never had sex before and neither had she. We took our sweet time. Kissing, giggling and undressing. I admired her sexy athletic body as she undressed. Her breasts were firm, her body solid, her face pretty and her ass was spectacular. I undressed slowly as Atifah watched me. My own body was less spectacular. I'm round and chubby, and not that tall. Atifah sensed that I was self-conscious. Kissing me, she told me I was beautiful. Then she got on top of me, telling me that she loved my chunky body, my big boobs and my big round buttocks. I gasped in pleasure as her hand slipped between my thighs and began fingering my pussy. I sucked at her breasts gently as she penetrated me with her fingers. Soon I was moaning in pleasure as I experienced the joys of sex for the first time.

Atifah and I explored each other's bodies that night. I felt so wild when she gently spanked my butt and licked my pussy. I wanted to taste her so badly but she was hesitant. I asked her to trust me and she did. I spread her sexy thighs and licked her pussy. Like I said, this was my first time. Lesbians aren't born knowing how to rock each other's worlds in the bedroom. Like everybody else, we learn through trial and error. Atifah and I took our sweet time and pleasured each other that night. We went at it happily and eagerly, and we screamed in pleasure as we made each other cum again and again. As the afternoon rolled on, we explored each other.

We sat on the couch and watched our favourite show, Pretty Little Liars. Well, I sat on the couch. Atifah sat on my lap, kissing me and making it impossible for me to watch the television episode. Truth be told, that's one distraction I didn't mind. My Atifah looked so lovely. I silently thanked Allah for bringing her into my life. I loved her so much. That night, we fell asleep in each other's arms. And this is how I found love for the first time, folks. I'm a Black woman born and raised in the Muslim faith. I am also a lesbian, and I continue to be a practicing lesbian. I am proud of my Somalian origins and my Muslim faith as well as my lesbian identity. The three are not incompatible in my eyes. And I'm madly in love with this Somalian-born, American-flavoured young woman who's a devout Catholic and considers Will Smith her fashion icon. It's a modern world we live in!