Mariam My Cousin Sister Taught Me About Sins Of The Flesh
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Mariam Hanaffi Of Somalia free porn video
What’s up dear readers? The name is Mariam Hanaffi and I’m a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I was born in the environs of Nepean, Ontario, but my family hails from the town of Mogadishu, Somalia. My brothers Ahmed and Ali and I were raised in Canada’s Capital region. Until the day I die, I will forever be the daughter of two worlds. Canadian citizen, and Somali blood kin, inseparable and everlasting.
I’m a Hijab-wearing, dark-skinned female in a world that worships skinny white girls, so it’s definitely not easy for me as a Somali woman living in the Confederation of Canada. I’m five-foot-ten, curvy and chocolate-hued, with short Black hair that I always tuck under my Hijab. I wear traditional Islamic clothing, and this irks many Canadians. I’m just being open and honest here. Canada likes to present itself as a racially diverse, liberal and tolerant country and that’s fantasy rather than reality for a lot of us. What do I mean by that? Please allow me to explain.
I was born and raised in Ontario, Canada’s most populous region and I speak English and French fluently. I’m as much a Canadian citizen as Prime Minister Stephen Harper himself. Yet not a day goes by that some idiotic white person doesn’t ask me where I come from. In the eyes of the white Canadian society, I’ll always be the cultural other because of my skin color. And people wonder why so many Somali Canadians feel left out in Canada.
I’m a criminology student at Carleton University, and the other day, I went to a meeting of like-minded students. The room was full of white students, with a few Asians and Arabs here and there. I was the only Black person besides this one other stocky Black dude there, and I felt totally left out. At this meet and greet, I was the odd woman out. I spoke to this Asian dude named William and he was cool, but everyone else just gave me the cold shoulder.
That’s Canadian society for you. They talk a good game about diversity and inclusion, but they know how to make you feel like you don’t belong, all without a single word. The country is becoming more racially diverse in part because white folks aren’t making babies while the racialized people, we who are called Africans, Arabs, Latinos, Chinese, Hindus and others, are breeding like crazy.
This fascinates me, to tell you the truth. I call it the revenge of the minority. We’re changing Canada’s demographics and this worries members of the Conservative party, hence the changing immigration rules. Too late if you ask me. Canada’s major cities are already on their way to being mostly non-white, and the trend isn’t changing anytime soon. I am proud of myself as a Somali-descended Black Canadian Muslim woman. If white Canadians don’t like it, they can kiss my thick Somali ass, thank you very much.
In recent years, I’ve turned to my Somali culture and my Islamic faith for comfort in a world that’s increasingly hostile to me. I wasn’t raised in a very religious family. My father, Abdirahman Hanaffi didn’t make us go to the mosque or anything. He’s a very secular and liberal sort, after all. Ditto for my mother, Manal Hanaffi. They were too busy trying to keep a roof over the heads of my siblings and I to worry about other stuff.
I felt at odds with Canadian society and its hypocrisy. It’s quite evident in the City of Ottawa, where a subtle but ever-present racism is always at work. Don’t believe me? Watch out white folks, especially the middle-aged males, look at any well-dressed, confident Black person walking around the downtown core, the so-called business center. They’ll look at you with your professional attire, your work ID hanging around your neck and the fact that you look like you know what you’re doing bothers them.
I know exactly what’s going on in their heads at this moment, folks. You’re a threat to them if you’re a person of color who’s intelligent and even halfway ambitious. They hate you because you’re probably smart and university-educated, and you might make more money than them, but you don’t look like them. Welcome to Canada, folks. I can’t stand these bigoted bozos, and I can’t wait until the day comes when white people are no longer the super majority in Canada. I know I will see that day within my life.
After all, white folks in North America have worse breeding habits than the Panda. Their populations are plummeting and they don’t seem to notice. Good news for people like me, I guess. What can I do in the meantime? I educate myself, and not just in my studies at Carleton University. I read books by African and Afro-Caribbean writers, and learn about the world beyond what white academia deems right for me to know.
I also read books by Arab writers, for Arabian literature has a long and colorful history, even though much of the world is ignorant of it. That’s what education is, the pursuit of knowledge. I also reach out to other intelligent people of color at school. There’s bad blood between Somalis and Ethiopians because of religious and geopolitical issues. Somalis are predominantly Muslim and Ethiopians are for now a mostly Christian group. We’ve had many, many wars in the past and even today, Somalis and Ethiopians living in Canada and beyond don’t like each other.
I’m not one of those dumb people who continue to do foolish things without learning from their mistakes. Canada has a growing Black population, and that worries a lot of people, including other minority groups that dislike or downright hate us. In the eyes of the bigots, it doesn’t matter if you’re Haitian, South African, Ghanaian, Ethiopian, Black Brazilian, Black British, African-American, or whatever. If you’re Black, you’re fair game to them because of your skin color and they hate you.
Why would I make the task of the racists easier by hating my own people? Black folks need to stop letting religious and cultural differences get in the way of unity, seriously. Those who hate us don’t care about these things. They would wipe us all out if they could. Why make things easier for them by fighting our own? I thought I was the only Black person in the world who understood that, until I met Jean-Bernard Guillot.
Jean-Bernard, or ‘J.B.’ as he prefers to be called, is a six-foot-tall, lean and athletic, ruggedly handsome young Black man whom I met while walking through the Atrium at school. The fine, well-dressed brother approached me and asked me if he could have a minute of my time. I hesitated, then nodded. Something made me stop to listen to J.B. and I’m glad I did. For J.B. was inviting me to his new club, African Unity Center, and he and I became the founding executives.
Jean-Bernard Guillot is a civil engineering student at Carleton University but honestly, the brother has a future as a civil rights lawyer or a human rights activist if you ask me. He’s quite passionate about fighting injustice, especially racism and discrimination. I’ve never met a Black Christian man who was so respectful of Islam or so passionate about African unity. What can I say? I was quite taken with J.B. from the get go.
J.B. and I recruited quite a few Black students for the African Unity Center, and we got Haitians, Jamaicans and a few Nigerians in. Along with that obligatory bleeding hearts white liberal that likes to hang on in ‘Black’ spaces. We’re pro Black but not racist in any way, honest! Working together with J.B. for the club, I got to know him better, and I found the brother smart, sexy and charming. That’s why, even though Jean-Bernard Guillot is a Christian and thus off-limits for me as a Muslim sister, I decided to claim him for myself.
J.B. and I began dating, discretely at first because, well, Somalis gossip a lot and I didn’t want people to find out about us until I was good and ready. Eventually, though, I stopped caring. It’s my life. One day, as we walked out of the Silver City movie theater in the east end of Ottawa, J.B. pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I kissed J.B. back passionately, and a s
hock of lust coursed through me as he caressed my bum while his tongue slid down my throat.
Wow, I thought, smiling at J.B. after we shared our first kiss. Hand in hand we walked around, like a true couple. We sat on the bus together, just smiling at each other and talking. I’m a Somali Muslim sister who’s fallen in love with a tall, fine-looking Haitian brother. Too bad he’s a Christian. Perhaps I can convince J.B. to embrace Islam and maybe we’ll be able to truly be together, you know? Do wish me luck, folks. I am going to need it.
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