From Iran With Love

Jayson and I left the mall half an hour later, and parted ways at the Hurdman bus station. I took the number four heading to Carleton University by way of Bronson, and Jayson took the ninety six, since he lived in an apartment in the Kanata area. Before we left, I hugged him briefly. Just a simple hug, nothing major. When I went home that night, I felt so happy I could cry. The problem was that there was no one I could talk to about Jayson. Almost all friends at school are Muslim, with the exception of Jayson and that Lebanese Christian gal, Catherine, whom I added on Facebook recently. Is this what it's like to be in love? You can't stop thinking about the other person? Apparently so.

I was in love for the first time, and it was a wonderful feeling. I loved feeling this way about Jayson. Never mind that he's part Black and I'm Persian. So what if he's a Christian and I'm a Muslim? I didn't care. I really didn't. I just wanted to be with him. The young man who saved me the first time he saw me, and has been bringing joy and light into my otherwise lonely and dreary existence ever since. I didn't know it at the time but I was already on the path to a life-changing realization. In recent weeks, I found myself reading from the Bible Gateway website, learning all I could about Christianity, its founder Jesus Christ and his message of peace and love for the world.

So it came to be that I embraced Christianity, slowly, first in my heart, then outwardly. I stopped going to Masjid on Fridays, and began attending service at the First Church of the Divine Light regularly. I still wore my hijab, but it was mostly out of habit. I've grown really comfortable around Jayson. Enough to let him see my hair, and even touch it. It's hard to let go of ingrained social taboos and what you've been taught is a no-no since before you could walk and talk, but I tried.

When Jayson and I ran into each other at school, I greeted him joyfully with a hug and kiss. We hold hands while walking around together. Campus students, especially Muslims, often stare at us, the tall young Black man and the hijab-wearing Persian woman. I didn't care who saw us. I was proud of us, Jayson and I. Besides, let them stare. We look good together. Sadly, my picture-perfect world began to unravel. I should have known that the radiant happiness permeating every aspect of my new life would be tainted by fate's caprices.

I should have been more careful in my dealings with Jayson, because the Muslim community polices its own. My outings on and off campus with Jayson hadn't gone unnoticed. Even though my parents were still in Iran, thousands of miles away, I wasn't as free as I thought it was. By posting pictures of Jayson and I on Facebook, holding hands and kissing, going to movies, restaurants and movie theaters together, I had inadvertently jeopardized both myself and him. I put both of us in danger without realizing it.

The signs were all there, I simply hadn't been paying attention. The Muslim students at school began giving me the cold shoulder. Girls I'd become friends with at Masjid now eyed me coldly, and warned me that I was dangerously close to apostasy. They knew about my relationship with Jayson, and his Christian group. I told them to mind their damn business, but to no avail. I just didn't realize the extent they'd go to in order to make my life hell. Until the day I got a call from my angry parents, swearing to high heaven about how scandalized they were about what they'd seen on my Facebook. I didn't know my folks had online profiles!

That night, my parents cursed the very day I was born, and told me that I was dead to them. They decided to cut off my education funding. They wouldn't support my international studies at Carleton University anymore. And they promised me a fate worse than death once my study visa expired and I got sent back to Iran by the Canadian government. I hung up the phone, and quietly sat in my darkened apartment. Wracked with deep despair, I wept. What was I going to do? For the next few days, I didn't leave my apartment. I didn't see the point of going to class, or even getting out of bed in the morning. My life as I knew it was over.

Jayson kept calling me, but I ignored him. When I finally picked up the phone ( he'd left me seventeen messages over a 48-hour period ) Jayson told me he was worried about me. You don't need someone like me in your life, I said sadly. Jayson asked me what was wrong, and although I was reluctant, he slowly pried the words out of me. I am a lost cause, I said. Jayson told me not to talk like that, and was in the process of giving me a rousing pep talk when I hung up. I'm a dead woman, I said to myself.

I lay there, doing a good job of wallowing in self-pity, until I heard a knock at my door. I figured it was my landlord, an annoying little man named Keith. He collects the rent early but he's never around when you need him to fix things like heating or a broken refrigerator. Wrapping my bathrobe around myself, I went to the door. Imagine my surprise when I saw who it was. Jayson, clad in a black leather jacket and blue jeans, and looking like a million bucks. Hello Mala, Jayson said gently.

The sight of him standing there, looking so good and strong, well, it made my sorrows melt away like ice in the sun. I went to Jayson and hugged him fiercely, and he hugged me back. I looked at him with tear-filled eyes, and then told him what I'd been going through. The ostracism I received from the Muslim students at school, the death threats from my parents, the end of my international school funding, and oh yeah, the fact that I was all of a sudden alone in the world. You've got me, Jayson said confidently, gently stroking my chin. Then he kissed me.

In that moment, all my worries melted away. Jayson promised me he'd take care of me, and he did. I believed him, for I knew our love could withstand anything. I love him dearly, this young man for whom I walked away from my Muslim faith, my family, my friends and everything I never knew. Wherever Muslims gather, my name shall be cursed, for I am now an apostate. One who's left Islam. I am one of the forsaken, and any Muslim may end my life when he or she encounters me. The Prophet Mohammed's condemnation of all those who leave Islam is one of the strongest of his hadiths. All Muslims know it and firmly believe it.

Jayson and I ended up leaving Carleton, and Ottawa itself, since neither place was safe for us. Nothing triggers even the least religious Muslim person's die-hard hatred than those who leave the faith. Hatred of apostates is one of the core elements of Islam. Without the ancient law against apostasy, the act of leaving the religion, the faith wouldn't exist, since it was first spread by the sword. I know this now. The following Sunday, Jayson and I met with Reverend Josephine Lee, and I began the path toward my Christian faith. It's a long process. One doesn't simply walk away from Islam one day and embrace the teachings of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the next.

I had a lot to learn about Christianity, and I also had a lot of soul-searching to do. Fortunately, I had a lot of support. The people of the First Church of the Divine Light formed a protective cocoon around me. Jayson and Reverend Josephine Lee were a big help during those trying early days. Jayson and I went to City Hall downtown to inquire about things like a work permit, a social insurance number and a health card, the three things a newcomer needs to function and survive in Canada. The process was long, and the bureaucratic nightmare I encountered wasn't encouraging, but I persevered. After all, nothing worthwhile is ever easy, right?

Jayson and I ended up moving to Toronto. We had to get away from Ottawa, as I said before. It simply wasn't safe for us at Carleton or any of our usual stomping grounds. Canadians don't really understand Muslims mentality. They walk around in their shopping malls, movie theaters and office buildings and think of terrorism and religious strife as something relegated to the streets of cities in South Asia, Africa and the Middle East. They don't realize that even now, sinister forces are conspiring to destroy their society from within. I've seen a lot of Muslims with lots of western "friends" make fun of those same so-called friends and deride them for their godless lifestyle while in Muslim spaces. You wouldn't believe how two-faced certain members of my former faith can be.

Anyhow, let's speak of happier things. I met Jayson's family, and they're a lovely couple. They were fully supportive of us, since they star-crossed lovers themselves, once upon a time. Interracial couples have it almost as bad as interfaith couples. Well, Jayson and I are no longer an interfaith couple. I'm not a Muslim woman sneaking around with my Christian boyfriend. I'm a proud Christian woman who renounces Islam along with all other faiths and choose to exclusively follow the teachings of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

Once in Toronto, I got myself a job, and eventually returned to school. I opted to continue my civil engineering studies at York University, right outside Toronto. Jayson continued his criminology and criminal justice studies at the University of Toronto. We moved into a two-bedroom apartment together. Just a regular couple living our lives, that's the two of us. Work, school and church, that's all we do. Of course, we have movie night and date night just like every other couple. Jayson applied for me to become a permanent resident, and although the process took years, eventually I got it.

I am now a permanent resident of Canada, the most beautiful country in the world. Jayson and I got married after graduation, and I'm happy to say that our good friend and constant supporter, Reverend Josephine Lee, officiated at our wedding. It was a wonderful day. My eyes grow moist whenever I think about it. Jayson and I went to Montreal for our honeymoon. Jayson and I found success in our respective fields. He's now a corrections officer with the Ontario Ministry of Corrections, making decent money. I got a decent-paying entry-level position with a civil engineering firm in Mississauga.

Things aren't always easy, but Jayson and I stick together and trust in God, and we know that the Lord will pull through for us when we need Him the most. We're now the proud parents of two little angels, Laila and Amina. We're actively involved in our church, the Toronto branch of the First Church of the Divine Light. That's my story, ladies and gentlemen. I was born in a Muslim household, but fate had other plans for me. I am now a proud Christian wife and mother, and life couldn't be better. I thank God for His blessings. Peace.