A Feisty Saudi Woman in Nepean

"Mustapha, my love, I cherish you but I cannot ask you that," Zeinab said hesitantly, and Mustapha smiled and took her hand, then brought it to his lips. Zeinab looked at Mustapha, and licked her lips. Her heart thundered in her chest. Truth be told, she'd fallen in love with this wonderful man, who treated her like a queen even though she had nothing.

As she walked around Ottawa with him, Zeinab was aware of the way people of other races gawked at Mustapha simply because he was a tall, dark-skinned man. Canadian society, for all of its supposed liberalism and multicultural policies, seemed very much against people of color, especially black men. Their racism irked her, and Zeinab always held Mustapha's hand with pride, in spite of the hateful glares that people, especially other Middle-Easterners, shot their way. Haters gonna hate, Zeinab thought angrily.

"Zeinab, I cherish you too, and I want to help you with this, not just because we're together but I've wanted to help you long before we got involved," Mustapha said earnestly, and Zeinab felt her face flush and her eyes grow moist. All the love that she felt for this amazing man poured forth and she grabbed his face and kissed him. When they came up for air, Zeinab looked at Mustapha adoringly. Who am I to be loved this way? Zeinab thought, thankful to her lucky stars for such a find.

A couple of weeks later, Zeinab Al-Sharif and Mustapha Klassou appeared before the Immigration & Refugee Board, and stated their case. With help from Mustapha's cousin, attorney Ibrahim Klassou, they filed for Zeinab's permanent residence under the common law spouse clause. The presiding judge, a certain Latin American judicial with liberal tendencies, granted them their fondest desire. Amazed, Zeinab cried out in sheer joy, and then kissed Mustapha passionately. They thanked the judge profusely, and then exited the closed-door hearing, happy as can be.

"I've got more good news, my love," Zeinab said to Mustapha, as they rode the 95 bus from downtown Ottawa to Nepean, where they lived. Mustapha sat next to her, with one arm around Zeinab's lovely shoulders while he texted with the other. He was sharing news of their recent legal victory with friends and family members on Facebook when Zeinab took his hand, snatched away his cell phone, and pressed his hand gently against her belly.

"Oh my," Mustapha said, smiling nervously at Zeinab, and then excitement blossomed all over his face like flowers in the springtime. Zeinab smiled and nodded firmly. A few days earlier, Zeinab had gone to her favorite clinic, and complained to her doctor of recent malaise she'd been experiencing. Zeinab initially dismissed her discomfort as having to do with nervousness about her then-upcoming immigration hearing, until her doctor told her that she was pregnant. Zeinab waited until after the hearing to share the news with her beloved Mustapha.

"From now on, you're going to be Baba Mustapha," Zeinab said, smiling at Mustapha, who grinned and kissed her hand. Everyone on the crowded OC Transpo bus looked at them, and the smiling couple ignored them. Indeed, they were very much in a world of their own. As the bus reached Baseline Station, Zeinab and Mustapha got up and, in his excited state, Mustapha offered her a piggy back ride, which the tired Zeinab happily excited. Just like that, the happy couple began making their way home. Some drivers-by honked at them and waved, and Zeinab and Mustapha laughed and waved back. For the first time in forever, all is right with their world...