Somali Girls Into Haitian Girls

As Salam Alaikum, dear readers. My name is Faduma ( pronounced Fa-Doom-Ah) Ismail and I'm a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, and moved here with my parents, Aden and Amina Ismail, in the summer of 1999. We've never even left the country since that magical first summer, I swear.

Standing five-foot-eleven, with dark brown skin, long Black hair ( which I almost always tuck away under my Hijab ) and light brown eyes, I am as Somali as they come. Down to the curvy body and the, ahem, forehead. I don't always wear traditional clothing. I am just as comfortable in a T-shirt and jeans as I am in traditional Islamic feminine attire. I am only me. Believe that.

I consider myself as Canadian as Prime Minister Stephen Harper himself, the haters and xenophobes who disagree be damned. I am a proud Muslim, a Canadian citizen, and an feminist. Don't agree? You can kiss my shapely Somali derriere! I swear, in Canada, with the rise of passive-aggressive racism and systemic discrimination disguised as nationalism ( especially in the Conservative Party ), visible minorities like myself feel under attack.

The Islamic community is the single most hated and embattled of all recent immigrant groups across the vastness of Canada. The federal government hates us with a passion. A lot of White Canadians have no understanding of Islam, and the Conservative Party is using that to stoke their fears. It's like Canada is slowly being divided into two different halves.

In the major cities like Ottawa, Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver and Calgary, you see a lot of Somalis, Haitians, Jamaicans, Arabs, Latinos, Chinese people and other minority groups. In small-town Canada, things haven't changed in centuries. It's backwoods White people, with their guns and their xenophobia, terrified of anyone who doesn't look like them.

There are so many misconceptions about Islam and women's rights, seriously. The world at large thinks that Muslim women are little more than slaves for Muslim men. Doesn't work that way. If you want to find sexist pigs and brutal men who abuse women, you will find them in every race, every faith and every country. Don't believe me? You don't think that in the lily-White realm of Western Europe, even as you read these lines, some White guy is beating on a White woman? You can bet against it...and you would lose.

I'm currently studying social work at Carleton University because I want to help newcomers to Ontario, Canada, many of whom face a tough time in their first few months in this country. I remember what it was like for my parents and I in Canada during these tough early days. If you forget where you come from, you don't know who you really are if you ask me.

Today, I'm a university student, and a working professional in the capital but I shall never forget my humble beginnings in Somalia. I work at a call center in the east end of Ottawa. I'm the person on the other line when you call about your Mastercard or Visa, and I try my best to help you out. The job pays seventeen dollars an hour, I work in a cubicle, and I dress professionally. Considering most of my peers are working at Tim Horton's or Wal-Mart or McDonald's, I am pretty lucky.

Considering how tough the job market is out there, I might stick around the call center after I get my bachelor's degree in social work from Carleton University next year. I've seen recent university graduates, mostly minority but some of them White, working at Starbucks even though they have bachelor's degrees and MBAs from Canadian colleges and universities. Not fair, right? Well, life isn't fair. I got hired by the call center because I'm good with numbers and I speak English and French fluently.

While working at the call center, I met a woman whom I simply cannot get out of my head. Joanne Magloire, a six-foot-tall, sinfully sexy Haitian cutie with light brown skin, long, neatly braided Black hair and sharp features. Born in the City of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti, and raised in the City of Montreal, Quebec, Joanne was a newcomer to the City of Ottawa. Educated at Concordia University, trained as an accountant, Joanne got hired by the call center last year and quickly rose within the ranks. I joined three months before Joanne did, and this bitch is my manager.

A lot of people I know think that only White people can be abusive, uptight managers. Well, I'm a minority and a woman working in a corporate environment and my supervisor, Joanne Magloire, is a Black woman and a total bitch. No, we don't get along. I can't stand the bitch. Honestly, a lot of the women working on the seventh floor, the dreaded Marketing Department, can't stand Joanne. Well, I used to be one of them.

Alright, I've got to stop beating around the bush at this point. I, Faduma Ismail of Somalia, am a lesbian. Yes, Muslim lesbians exist. Hijab-wearing women who love other women do exist. I go to bars sometimes. Not too often, though. The lesbian nightclub scene in Ottawa is kind of dull. White lesbians and White gay men are just as racist as straight White people, if not more so. I avoid the lesbian clubs because there's always some annoying queer White chick who asks me really crude questions, and not in a fun way.

Nope, I haven't had much luck with the ladies here in Ottawa. I went to the bar that night, not expecting much. I ran into Joanne Magloire, the bitch from work. I was stunned to see this Bible-quoting, cross-wearing Haitian chick there. Of course, I bet Joanne was surprise to me, the Hijab chick from work, in a dyke bar. Life is funny like that, isn't it?

Once I got over my shock, I went over to Joanne, and to my immense surprise, she was friendly and quite pleasant. We had drinks, and talked for hours. What a world we live in! A Black Muslim woman from Somalia and a Black Christian woman from the island of Haiti, co-workers and closet lesbians, as well as business rivals, brought together by fate. An opportunity that was too good to pass up.

That night, Joanne and I went back to my place in Gloucester, and we actually had sex. I feasted my eyes on the tall Haitian Amazon as she undressed before me. With her big tits, curvy body, hairy cunt and smooth, sexy legs, not to mention her big round ass, Joanne was smoking hot. I wanted to taste Joanne's Haitian pussy. First, though, I wanted to give her a taste of my Somali goodies.

I took off my Hijab, then my T-shirt, jeans and stood before Joanne, clad only in my red bra and matching panties. The sexy Haitian gal gestured for me to come to her. Grinning, I walked up to Joanne, moving with deliberate sexiness. I stood inches from Joanne, and she smiled at me. I smiled at Joanne, and then we kissed. Gently, Joanne pulled me into her arms and began caressing me. Just like that, we began making love.

I lay on the bed, stark naked, as Joanne began kissing me and pleasuring me. The tall Haitian chick licked me from my head to my toes, and then had me shuddering in delight with her expert touch. Joanne sucked on my tits while fingering my cunt, and I cried out in pleasure. Joanne grinned wickedly and buried her face between my legs, eating my pussy with gusto. Hot damn, this Haitian chick was something else!

Joanne and I continued to have our fun. I wanted so badly to lick Joanne's pussy, and the naughty Haitian gal obliged me by sitting on my face. Seriously, that's one of my favorite things. I love having another woman sitting on my face while I lick and finger her pussy and asshole. I love burying my face down there, smelling and tasting and probing another woman's tasty bits. As a lesbian, it's sort of my reason for being.

I licked Joanne's pussy and fingered her asshole, causing her to cry out my name in that guttural yet sweet Haitian Creole language of hers. Joanne began feasting on my cunt, and we got it on, in the sixty nine position. I buried my fingers in her cunt and asshole, and I swear, I felt Joanne's entire body shudder and vibrate as I pleasured her. Joanne bit my clit gently and then began inserting her fist into my pussy, one finger at a time, while licking my asshole. I found myself crying out in Somali as well as English, this was too intense!

I came, spectacularly I might add, thanks to Joanne's expert lovemaking. For a long moment we lay in each other's arms. Two women from opposite sides of the world, separated by the lines of faith, ethnicity, language, culture and a myriad other things, yet brought together by fate or circumstance. I, Faduma Ismail of Somalia, am a lesbian. So is Joanne Magloire, the sexy Haitian gal. We spent the night together, and then Joanne left in the morning.

I wish I could say that Joanne Magloire and I became friends, or carried out a torrid affair at work. Nope, nothing of the kind happened. The next time I saw her at work, Joanne was polite but distant. In other words, Joanne was her usual self. I am still an employee of the call center and Joanne is still my bitchy supervisor. If you were expecting a fairy tale ending, I am sorry to disappoint you, ladies and gentlemen.

Joanne and I never hooked up again, nor did we discuss what happened between us that night. Joanne and I are different people, in spite of the fact that we're both highly educated Black female professionals working in corporate Canada. I am a Muslim woman of Somali descent, and a lesbian, it's not easy to be me. For now, the search for love continues. I hope to meet the right woman someday. Insha'Allah, perhaps someday I will find her.