From Laval with Love

A lot of people in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, seem to have a problem with interracial relationships, especially when the interracial relationship in question involves a Black man. Oh, well, to hell with the haters. Canada is changing. Lots of Africans, Arabs, Chinese, Indians and others are filling up cities like Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, Vancouver and even Hamilton. Diversity is here to stay, in spite of the racist policies of the Conservative government. I am proud to say that I embrace that diversity in every way.

My name is Mariam Seguin, and I'm a French-Canadian woman who is happily married to a Nigerian Muslim immigrant, and we have two lovely daughters together, Amina and Laila. I embraced Islam a couple of years ago, and don't leave the house without my Hijab. Yes, there are French Canadian Muslim women in Canada. People can stare at my husband Abdullah Adetola and our brood all they want, I don't give a flying fuck about what goes on inside their skulls. I love my husband and our beautiful mixed-race daughters. I thank my lucky stars for my loved ones.

I met my husband Abdullah Adetola in the summer of 2005, when I was a freshman at Carleton University. I was in the criminal justice program, and I was just another wide-eyed freshman trying my best at the start of my higher education journey. I was born and raised in suburban Laval, Quebec, and prior to starting college, I'd never even set foot in Ontario. La belle province is the land I call home, and I had little interest in what lay beyond its borders. Little did I know that fate had some major plans for me.

The day I met Abdullah Adetola, I was having the absolutely worst day. I lost my student bus pass along with my purse and my credit cards, not to mention my provincial health card. I was trapped inside the Rideau Shopping Center, the only thing I had left were the clothes on my back and my cell phone, which was running out of power. Can you imagine? I was about to start crying when I saw a rather tall ( easily over six feet ) young Black guy in a security uniform walk by. I hailed him, and the guy approached me cautiously, concern all over his dark, handsome face.

In a panicked voice, I explained to the security guard what had happened to me. The security guard in question was Abdullah Adetola, newcomer from northern Nigeria, and he wasn't even affiliated with the mall security team. Indeed, Abdullah was coming off a shift with another company when I asked him for help. Not only did Abdullah allow me to use his cellphone to inform my parents of what happened, but he also gave me enough money to get on the bus heading to Carleton University. Wasn't that sweet of him?

My parents, Louis and Jeannette Seguin drove to the City of Ottawa straight from our hometown of Laval, and the next day we went to City Hall, where I got a brand new health card, and then we got a new driver's licence from Service Ontario. We called Mastercard and got my credit card cancelled, and then I got a new debit card from the Bank of Montreal. Fortunately, whoever snatched my purse while I wasn't paying attention in the ladies room of the Rideau Shopping Center didn't try to use my financial information. Guess I was lucky, eh?

My parents returned to Laval, after making me swear to be careful. I thanked my lucky stars to have such wonderful people for parents, and then I returned to school, determined to ace my classes during my first semester. School was off to a nice start. The only thing that worried me was my weight gain. You've heard of the freshman fifteen, right? Well, I put on twenty pounds between September 2005 and Christmastime, believe it or not. Add to that the fact that I'm rather tall at five-foot-ten, and I've never been a skinny chick to begin with, and you can understand why I decided to make the gym my second home.

Now, like many new students, I didn't know the campus too well. Indeed, I focused mainly on my residence, the school library, and Loeb Building, which for some reason housed most of my criminal justice classes. I got lost like three times trying to access the school gym from the tunnel system. Guess who I ran into at the gym? A certain tall, dark and handsome West African gentleman with kind eyes and the physique of an Olympic athlete. Abdullah Adetola of Nigeria. Apparently, he was studying civil engineering at Carleton University. Small world, eh?

Abdullah was heading for the men's washroom, and I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. The tall, dark and handsome stud looked at me, startled. Recognition shone in Abdullah's face and he smiled. Gleefully I shook Abdullah's hand, and thanked him again for saving my plump White ass at the Rideau Shopping Center. Seriously, I was raised Catholic and I didn't really believe in Good Samaritans until I met Abdullah.

Abdullah and I talked for a bit, and then right when I was about to suggest we add each other on MySpace or Facebook, we were rudely interrupted by the arrival of a tall, dark-skinned female with a pretty face, a curvy body and a big butt. The young Black woman cleared her throat, and then Abdullah flinched, and awkwardly introduced me to his girlfriend, Stacey Malone, formerly of Kingston, Jamaica. I smiled at Stacey, who gave me a smile a shark would recognize. Linking her arm with Abdullah, Stacey wished me goodbye and the two of them walked away.

I watched Abdullah walk away with Stacey, and my face felt flush and my heart skipped a beat. Honestly, I thought Stacey was a bitch but like the polite proper Quebecer lady I was raised to be, I held my tongue. I returned to the library and then did my homework, which was a project on revolution and criminality in early Canada. I chose to write a paper about Louis Riel, leader of the Metis community and a revolutionary figure well-known by all Canadians. Afterwards, I hung around the library, with thoughts of Abdullah swirling about my brain.

That night, I looked Abdullah up on MySpace and Facebook, found him and sent him friend requests. I didn't expect Abdullah to add me as a friend or have anything to do with me. I've never been the type of female that most men consider attractive. I'm one inch shy of being six feet tall, with broad shoulders, a chubby body, wide hips, thick legs and a big ass. I have alabaster skin that burns rather than tans, light brown eyes and long Black hair. I used to play rugby back in Laval, until the female coach developed a crush on me and kicked me off the team when I spurned her advances. FYI? Not all females who play rugby are lesbians! Sheesh. I am one hundred percent heterosexual, thank you very much!

Abdullah added me as a friend on Facebook and MySpace, and we exchanged numbers. We were both newcomers to the City of Ottawa and didn't know many people on the Carleton University campus. Abdullah told me about his family and his old life in Kano, Nigeria, which he dearly missed. I missed Laval, Quebec, as well, but unlike Abdullah, my hometown was only a few hours away from Ottawa. I think it would take someone almost a whole day of flying if not more, in order to reach the City of Kano, Nigeria, from the City of Ottawa, Ontario.

Abdullah also told me about his problems with Stacey. Apparently, the gorgeous Jamaican chick had a temper. Who would have thought? Abdullah and I hung out sometimes at school, and as his relationship with Stacey Malone floundered due to her jealousy and control-freak behavior, I got closer to him. I became Abdullah's confidante, the one female in his life whom he could tell anything. When Stacey dumped Abdullah, I was there to pick up the pieces. I comforted Abdullah and I was there in his time of need. Once Abdullah recovered from the loss of Stacey, I claimed him as my own.

Abdullah and I were hanging out in my dorm, just chilling one Friday night watching reruns of the television series Andromeda when...it happened. I got up to get us some snacks and Abdullah laid his hand on my thigh and looked at me in such a way. I froze, excitement coursing through me like a river. I sat back down, and Abdullah drew me into his arms, and kissed me. I kissed Abdullah back with a passion that surprised both of us.

Just like that, Abdullah and I began making love right there on the couch. I've often felt self-conscious about my chubby body, and loathed my large breasts, wide hips and big, white buttocks. Abdullah took my hands in his and kissed them, and assured me he found me beautiful. I undressed without fear or shame, and Abdullah looked at me as though I were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Abdullah drew me to him, and he kissed me once more and caressed my breasts, pinching my nipples.

Abdullah laid me on the couch, and kissed a path from my tits to the space between my legs. I felt a bit nervous when Abdullah began his approach into me, for I hadn't showered yet and wouldn't be "fresh" down there. Abdullah didn't give a damn and buried his handsome face between my legs. I moaned softly as Abdullah's tongue slid into my pussy, followed by his agile, probing fingers. Soon the sexy West African Muslim stud had me crying out his name. Abdullah teased my cunt with his tongue and fingers, and I moaned in ecstasy, loving every minute of it.

Abdullah had me horny as ever, and I wanted to feel him inside of me. Eagerly I reached for his manhood with both hands. Abdullah smiled as I stroked his thick, dark dick. Without hesitation I fell on my knees before Abdullah and took his dick into my mouth. I've been with a handful of guys prior to meeting Abdullah so I know my way around the magic stick. Abdullah groaned as I sucked his dick while massaging his balls. Soon the brother was hard as a piston.

I grabbed Abdullah's handsome face and looked into his dark eyes. A silent plea went from me to him. Abdullah kissed me and then pulled me on top of him. His strong hands went to my hips and I straddled him. With a swift thrust, Abdullah entered me. I gasped at this most welcome intrusion. Abdullah and I began making love, and I opened myself up to him, loving the feel of his thick, dark dick inside my pussy. I hadn't made love for ages prior to meeting Abdullah, and I definitely wanted to make up for lost time.

Abdullah and I went at it for hours, until we lay, exhausted, on the carpeted floor of my single-occupant dorm room. Did the other students in the residence hear us? I didn't know and I did not care. All I know is, I loved the feel of Abdullah's strong arms around me. I rested my head against the West African Muslim stud's chest, and listened to his rhythmic heartbeat. I looked up at Abdullah and he smiled at me but said nothing. We just smiled at each other. For the first time in ages, I was at peace.

Abdullah Adetola and I come from different worlds, that's definitely true. I am a French Canadian woman raised in la belle province. I attended Catholic schools my whole life. Yet I've fallen in love with a tall, dark-skinned Muslim gentleman from West Africa. Abdullah is taking up civil engineering at Carleton University and I'm in the criminal justice programme. Wherever we go on campus, people stare at us. We don't care. When I introduded Abdullah to my parents, they were surprised but quickly grew to like him. For Abdullah is the one who rescued me during my darkest of days. Love can win out in the end, folks. Just give it a chance.