Somali Lesbian Diaries Ch. 09

Apparently, Somali Muslim lesbians don't exist. Hmm, that's news to me because I see one every time I look in the mirror. My name is Halima Ali, and I'm a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I study bio-chemistry at the University of Ottawa, and I'm also fairly active on the campus LGBT scene. Indeed, I'm the only Muslim female member of the Gay/Straight Union. Got one helluva story to share with you folks.

Life as an out and proud Somali Muslim lesbian isn't easy, that's for damn sure. To the Muslim community I am somewhat of an aberration. Would it surprise you to discover that my beloved parents, Idris and Amina Ali of Somalia are actually supportive of me? I sat my folks down and told them about my lesbianism the summer after I graduated high school, and they were surprisingly accepting. It's the rest of the world that's the problem.

To White Canadians, I am something they find strange, unusual and curious, and a political lighting rod. White feminists on campus are constantly asking me how I feel about female circumcision, male dominance and sexism in Islam, and things of that nature. Ladies and gentlemen, I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of White people expecting me to be the spokesperson for all things queer and Somali. Got it? Cool!

I find these silly, over-privileged White bitches annoying as well and racist to boot. Seriously, feminism and Black Muslim women don't mix. Nor should they. Seriously, the average White female citizen of North America cannot relate to the life, view and mindset of a Black Muslim woman. That's why they monopolize the feminist movement. They don't want to hear the Black Muslim female viewpoint. The White feminists hate us women of color more than the rednecks do, that's for damn sure. I try and avoid them like the plague.

Wallahi, the last thing I want to do is hang around someone who sees my skin color and the Hijab on my head before they realize that I am a human being. To White feminists, I am and always will be the social and cultural other. The fact that I stand six feet tall, dark-skinned and curvy, in a land that worships skinny pale bitches, doesn't exactly bode well for me. I refuse to surrender in the face of adversity, though.

I tried dating White girls, since there are so many of them in the lesbian scene in Ottawa, and it was one of the worst ideas I ever had. I quickly realized that White gays and White lesbians are just as racist as straight White folks, if not more so. Seriously, I think I heard more racist jokes at an all-female and nearly all-White so-called feminist meeting at the University of Ottawa than at a biker bar, to tell you the truth.

Now and forevermore, I must assert my Islamic faith, my Blackness and my Somali culture. The ultimate victory of racist White folks over people of color stem from cultural dominance. They've managed to convince large numbers of Africans, Arabs, Asians, Latinos and others that White culture is awesome while putting down the very cultures that those people hail from. It's a complete and utter mind fuck!

I, Halima Ali of Ottawa, refuse to bow down before anything other than Allah, the one true God. I am a Black female Muslim who passionately believes in women's rights, and I also happen to be queer. I am definitely not a feminist. Feminism is essentially a social and political movement for and about White women, thank you very much. Rather than distance myself from my people, I embrace them. I love my fellow Muslims. I love my fellow Somalis. I love my family. Fuck the haters!

When you're a strong Black Muslim woman who happens to be queer, life can certainly be lonely. It's almost as if I am too strong for my own good. Strong women are said to intimidate weak men. Well, apparently, strong women intimidate weak women as well. My Hooyo ( Somali term of endearment which means mother ) jokingly asked me when I would get off my big butt and bring home a nice gal.

My mother looked into my eyes after saying this, and I realized that she was dead serious. I took a deep breath, wondering how best to answer her. I laughed and told my mother that I was too busy with work and school to chase the girlies. My mother nodded, but like any Somali mother, I knew she wouldn't be able to resist the chance to play matchmaker. Lo and behold, a week after that particular conversation, my mother introduced me to Yasmin Kader, daughter of her good friend Fatima Kader.

At first, I was dismissive, because, like all straight people, my mother thinks any random lesbian is a good match for me just because we both sleep with women. That's why I was dismissive, then I got a good look at Yasmin Kader. Tall and pretty, with light brown skin, long Black hair tucked under a baseball cap and overalls, Yasmin was a tomboy with a capital T. Yasmin saw me checking her out and smiled cockily. Our eyes met and for a moment, my heart skipped a beat. This chick was smoking hot!

I smiled and walked up to Yasmin, then we hesitantly exchanged a handshake. That's how it began, ladies and gentlemen. The relationship that changed my life. Yasmin Kader, a 22-year-old newcomer to Ottawa by way of Edmonton, Alberta, took my breath away from the get-go. Having graduated from Athabasca University with a bachelor's degree in business, Yasmin Kader came to Ottawa for work. This tall, tomboyish cutie was working for Hydro Ottawa's call center, and dare I say, I liked her unique combination of beauty, intelligence, sass and ass. The total woman if you ask me!

For our first date, Yasmin Kader and I went to the Silver City movie theater and watched The Fast And The Furious Seven, and then we grabbed some food at the Blair shopping center. I was delighted to meet a gal who liked Chinese food as much as I did. Yasmin is tall and fit, but the gal could definitely eat. Another thing I like in a woman. We talked and got to know each other better. Yasmin was mad cool, and I liked her. That's why we began seeing each other...as in actually dating. Wish us luck!