Saudi Woman Becomes Christian

My name is Sean Des-Pres. I'm a young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. Two years ago I graduated from the Police Foundations Program at Algonquin College. These days, I'm a fourth-year Criminology student at Carleton University. It's been a tough year so far. The first breath of the year 2012 has been bitterly cold in the province of Ontario, Canada. What can we do but to keep trucking, right?

Today, I find myself thoughtful. I'm thinking about the themes of friendship and family a lot. My father, Antoine Des-Pres moved to the region of Ontario, Canada, from his hometown of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti, twenty years ago. Living in Canada as a Haitian refugee wasn't easy for him. It took him a long time to get his Canadian citizenship. Nevertheless, my father kept going. He attended the University of Ottawa, and graduated with his Master's degree in Sociology at the age of thirty three. He was twenty five when he began attending the school, and although it took him a long time, he said it was all worthwhile. Education is everything in this life, that's something my father says a lot.

At the University of Ottawa he met my mother Astrid Saline, a Haitian woman born and raised in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. They fell in love, got married and had little old me. Today, my father is a social worker and my mother teaches English at a Catholic school in Ottawa's East End. My parents live in the town of Orleans, about forty five minutes from the City of Ottawa. They raised me to be a God-fearing, decent young man. I am the Vice President of the Catholic Students Association at Carleton University. Exactly one hundred and seventeen days ago, I met someone remarkable, and my life hasn't been the same.

The C.S.A. meets every week in the lounge inside the University Center at Carleton University's Main campus. There are quite a few students in it. And they come from all over. Arianna Wiseman comes from the town of Melbourne, in the Commonwealth of Australia. Kendra Jackson hails from the City of Atlanta, Georgia in the United States. My good friend Miguel Hernandez comes from the region of Cancun in Mexico. Pablo Castillo comes from the town of Madrid in Spain. Anthony Mbakwe comes from the town of Lagos in Nigeria. Christina Ahmed comes from the Democratic Republic of Congo. Amelia Chang comes from the region of Shanghai in the People's Republic of China. Michael Yamamoto comes from the Home Islands Archipelago in Japan. We've got every race you can think of in our little club. Except one.

One hundred and seventeen days ago, Asimah Abdul-Razzaq joined us at a meeting of the Catholic Students Association. The five-foot-eleven, curvy and shy young Arab woman wearing the stylish blue jeans, red silk shirt and plain gray hijab took our breath away. She was definitely the last person I ever expected to see at a meeting of Christian students. I wasn't sure what to make of her. Fortunately my good friend Heather Wilkinson, the green-eyed and red-haired Irishwoman who's the C.S.A. President, welcomed the hesitant Asimah Abdul-Razzaq with open arms.

Throughout the meeting, Asimah asked us a lot of questions. She wanted to know more about Jesus Christ. I was more than happy to tell her about Our Lord and Savior. She found it amazing that Jesus Christ, a man of God, was so respectful of women. Especially since, in the Bible, Christ went as far as defending a prostitute from some angry men. I happily told Asimah that Jesus Christ is the son of Yahweh, a God of Tolerance and Peace. Asimah sadly told us that the Allah she prayed to viewed women negatively, if one were to go by the teachings of the Prophet Mohammed.

I looked at her, stunned by this. Clearly this young Arab woman was having a crisis of faith. I had to handle this with care. There are lots of Arab students at Carleton University. I don't mean to sound stereotypical but the last thing I want to deal with is a bunch of angry, violent Arab men coming after me for 'corrupting one of their Muslim sisters' by teaching her about Christianity. Asimah's questions basically dominated our first meeting. I wasn't the only one fascinated with her. The others were too. Guys and girls, all of us Catholics were mesmerized by this tall young Arab woman who wore the hijab yet seemed fascinated by Biblical passages and stories which most Christians grew up hearing about. Apparently, Asimah knew nothing about Christianity. She only heard us referred to as infidels, that's about it.

I bristled when I heard that. Even though I personally found the ways of the Muslims supremely strange, I was always respectful of them. I don't approve of a lot of things, from Gay Marriage to legalized Marijuana, but I always respect the person's right to do what they want. I'm a liberal person at heart. Sometimes it conflicts with my Christian beliefs but hey, I get over it. To hear Asimah refer to us Christians as infidels kind of bothered me. Whenever someone says something negative about Muslims, they get mad as hell and call you a bigot. Sometimes they attack you. Yet Muslims often refer to Christians as unbelievers and infidels. I can't stand this ugly double standard. Nevertheless, I kept my mouth shut and tried to make Asimah Abdul-Razzaq feel welcome. When the meeting ended, we said our prayers. She simply watched us while we prayed. After the meeting ended, we all shook hands and wished each other a good weekend. I wished Asimah goodbye, and walked to the bus stop.

I stood at the bus stop not far from the University Center, waiting for the number four. Guess who made her way to that same bus stop? It was Asimah. I stood there uncomfortably. I don't deal too well with new situations. Asimah stood next to me, and smiled. I smiled politely. She asked me where I was going. I told her I was headed home. I live in the Vanier area near Saint Laurent Mall. Asimah smiled, and told me she lived in the same area. I tried not to roll my eyes. Great. Finally, the bus came. I went to sit in the middle. Guess who sat next to me? The talkative Asimah. While the bus headed to Hurdman Station, she pestered me with questions about Christianity. Was it true that Christians had female Ministers? Yes. The Catholic Church is a bit slow on that but most other denominations have female Priests, female Ministers, female Pastors and female Preachers. Did men and women really pray in the same space inside Christian Churches? Yes. Could women lead men in prayer in Christianity? Yes. I was getting a bit tired of her questions. You've got to understand that conservative Christians like myself mostly stay away from the Muslims because of our radically different beliefs. I was curious, though. What was this chick's game?

I finally asked Asimah a question of my own. Why did she, an obvious Muslim, attend a religious meeting full of Christians? Asimah hesitated. Her beautiful face darkened. I winced. Whatever was bothering her had to be something painful. I apologized for my question, and silently prayed for the bus to get to Hurdman faster. It's Friday night. Lots of traffic. Asimah looked me in the eyes, took a deep breath, and confessed something to me. She was having a crisis of faith, and it had a lot to do with Muslim men's treatment of Muslim women. There was a case which dominated the news in Canada and beyond. A Muslim guy named Mohammed Shafia and his wife along with his oldest son killed his daughters. They killed the daughters in the name of so-called family honor. This case of honor killing stunned Canadian society. This man Shafia took the stand in one of Canada's criminal courts and said that if his daughters came back to life a hundred times, he'd kill them a hundred times. Wow. I always wondered what Muslims, especially Muslim women, thought of Mohammed Shafia's actions. Of course, I never asked.

The horrified look on Asimah's beautiful face told me everything I needed to know. Asimah told me this criminal case was being discussed in many Muslim households across Canada. Many of the young Muslims, especially the women, were appalled. The older generation publicly decried Mohammed Shafia's actions but privately, many of them understood why he did what he did. It was this public condemnation and private support of Mohammed Shafia's murderous actions that infuriated Asimah and had her questioning her faith. I tried to play Devil's advocate and told her that honor killings didn't represent all of Islam. I wasn't sure if I believed it but it was the politically correct thing to say. Asimah looked at me with narrowed eyes and told me Christians didn't know anything about Islam. With a sudden coldness in her eyes she told me that if the Muslims ever gained worldwide domination, they would hunt down Christians like dogs. I froze. How do you answer such a statement?

Asimah sounded...odd, folks. I wasn't sure how to deal with her. I looked her in the eye and asked her if she hated Christians. Asimah shook her head, and told me that a Christian man saved her life once. Her uncle Abdullah got mad at her one time and beat her with an electric cord because he caught her talking to a Nigerian Muslim guy she met while visiting Mecca in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I was horrified to hear that this gal's uncle beat her up simply for talking to a guy. Asimah smiled sadly, and told me that in her world, men had all the power and women had all the responsibilities and burdens. I shrugged, and told her it doesn't have to be this way. When she asked me what I meant, I smiled and said nothing. Asimah and I rode in silence for the rest of the ride. Finally the bus had just pulled into Hurdman. I caught the ninety five bus to Orleans and got off at Saint Laurent Mall. Then I took the number eighteen which took me to my spot in Vanier. Asimah wished me goodnight before boarding the number fourteen bus. I nodded politely, and before I could leave, she extended her hand for me to shake. I hesitated, then shook her hand. Sorry, in my experience with hijab-wearing Muslim ladies, whether Somali or Arab, they don't shake hands with men. I was a bit surprised by Asimah's forwardness. However, I wished her the best then took my bus.

I went home, and tried in vain to fall asleep. This isn't my typical Friday night. Usually, I do more fun things like going to the Cineplex with friends or check out the nightlife in the City of Gatineau, Quebec. Yes, even a staunch Christian gentleman like myself knows how to have fun. I lay in bed, unable to sleep. Finally, I went on Facebook. Guess who sent me a friend request? None other than Asimah! What is with that chick? I added her as a friend, not knowing that I was setting up a chain of events which would forever change my life. As it turns out, Asimah was online and promptly sent me a chat request. We began talking. The Muslim gal had a lot of questions about Christianity!

I began to chat with Asimah, somewhat reluctantly. I answered her questions to the best of my ability. The conversation drifted into odd territory. She wanted to know what Christian guys thought of Muslim girls. I told her that due to a certain double standard in Islam, Muslim males could marry Christian women and Jewish gals but Muslim women could only marry Muslim men. Being forced to convert to Islam kept a lot of Christian men away from Muslim women. Asimah's reply to that was that she knew it was a double standard but Islamic law was Islamic law. I told her that in Canada, Islamic law didn't apply, only Western society's laws. If a Muslim woman walked into City Hall tomorrow to ask for a marriage licence to walk down the aisle with a Christian man, no one could legally stop them. Of course, Muslim women often trapped themselves by following rules that made no sense and thus often lost their chance at happiness. Asimah acknowledged that Islamic women ought to ask more questions without following the rules blindly. Whether she agreed with my statement on Muslim female/Christian male relationships remained to be seen.

We chatted until the wee hours of the morning. By then I had learned a lot about Asimah. She was born in the City of Dhurma in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, on the sixth day of November 1989. Her father Amir Al-Razzaq moved to Ontario, Canada, with her mother Fatuma. He was a wealthy real estate mogul on two continents. The Al-Razzaq fortune was estimated at seventeen millions in American currency. Recently, Amir perished during a trip to Gauteng in the Republic of South Africa. I was deeply saddened to hear that Asimah's father had passed away. My pops and I are really close and if something happened to him I'd be devastated. Asimah presently lived in the Barrhaven area of Ottawa with her mother and younger sister Aamina. Her uncle Abdullah became the new CEO of the family's Saudi-based Real Estate Empire following Amir's untimely death.

Wow. Asimah really has an interesting life. I always wondered what it would be like to be supremely wealthy. I can't even imagine what I'd do with seventeen million dollars. Probably buy a small island. Nah, I'd invest. When I asked Asimah what she was studying at Carleton University, she told me she was a Law student. Cool. I'm in Criminology. I'm surprised we didn't have any classes together. Asimah and I continued chatting away, talking about friends and family. I learned how she got a dog, a little terrier she named Marquis. When I reminded her that owning dogs as pets was haram in Islam, Asimah told me to shut my mouth. I smiled. Nice to know she's willing to break with tradition every now and then. Proves that she's got a mind of her own. It was three in the morning when we finally said goodnight.

I woke up at ten o'clock that Saturday morning. I showered, ate breakfast and got ready to go to school. I sold my laptop months ago so I've got to go to the campus library to get my homework done. I sat in the back near the Maps and Data Information Center. Guess who I ran into? Alright, you got me. I found Asimah sitting at my favorite computer terminal. Clad in a Black T-shirt featuring Rob Zombie, Black sweatpants and a Black hijab, she looked kind of good. I greeted her with a puzzled smile. Asimah grinned, and asked me to sit next to her. I sighed, and sat down. I'm starting to run into this chick everywhere, and I've only known her for less than a day! She seemed really enthusiastic today. I wondered why. I wasn't enthusiastic about anything. I had a super boring week and I spent most of my Friday night chatting online with a talkative Muslim chick. I need more sleep.

Well, Asimah was in a talkative mood. I'm starting to think that's her natural state. As it turns out, she was one of two hundred people in my Criminal Sociology And Deviance class and we had an assignment due. She proposed that we worked on it together. I was okay with the idea. I could sense she was smart. We began working together, discussing the pros and cons of Capital Punishment in the United States, etc. it surprised me that Asimah was all for capital punishment, apparently it was practiced in her native Saudi Arabia. We worked on the assignment together for the better part of the afternoon. During a break, we grabbed lunch together inside The Page Break, this little restaurant located inside the Carleton University library. Asimah was definitely not what I thought, I can honestly say that after spending a few hours with her. Still, I was a bit alarmed by what she told me. After we finished working together, I went home thinking about her.

The next time I saw her, I did something I hadn't done since high school. I ditched class. In a true testament to the fact that spontaneous people can bond rather quickly, Asimah and I ditched our classes the following Monday and went to hang out at Blair Mall. We watched the new Sherlock Holmes movie, followed by The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. And then we went to the Food Court upstairs to eat some Manchu Wok. It was a lot of fun. While chowing down, Asimah told me ( more ) about her life. Lately she had experienced a personal awakening. And she was seriously considering Islam for Christianity. I almost choked on my spring roll when I heard that. What the fuck? Asimah looked at me and laughed, then smacked me between my shoulder blades as I coughed. I looked at her, incredulous. Asimah smiled, and told me she'd been having long arguments with her mother, and other relatives considering her choices. With tears in her eyes she told me the men and women whom she ran into during her first visit to a Christian church were far friendlier to her than any of her fellow Muslims whom she ran into weekly inside mosques. I was amazed when she told me this.

I looked at her, baffled by her statement. Asimah smiled, and gently touched my hand. In a clear voice, she told me that Christianity is the faith she would now embrace. Before my amazed eyes, Asimah took off her hijab. I stared at her, mesmerized at how beautiful she looked. I didn't know she had such long, lustrous Black hair. Wow. Asimah's beautiful face shone in the early afternoon sunlight. Breathlessly I told her how beautiful she looked. Asimah grinned, and did something else which surprised me. She gently kissed me on the cheek. If lightning had struck me, I wouldn't have been more shocked. Wow. Asimah smiled, and triumphantly said that she finally rendered me speechless. I smiled bashfully. She is so right...

And there you have it. Thus began my friendship with this remarkable, gorgeous young Persian woman born and raised in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia who converted to Christianity and became the Secretary of the Catholic Students Association at school. Of course, her conversion didn't go unnoticed by her conservative Saudi family or her old Muslim friends at school, who shunned her. Asimah was amazed by their coldness. I promised her that I would stand with her, come hell or high water. Since the time of Jesus Christ, Christians have suffered for their beliefs. Ancient Romans used to feed Christians to the lions. Now the seat of Christianity is in Rome itself! Asimah and I walk through the hallways of Carleton University, hand in hand. A Haitian guy born and raised in Canada and a young woman from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. What a pair we make! I care deeply for Asimah. And I stand by her side. When her mother and other relatives cursed her name by calling her infidel and threw her out, I argued with the school to offer her housing. And I won that argument. Asimah lives in the dorms at Carleton University now. And she works part-time at the movie theater to support herself. I've taken a part-time job on weekends because I want to help her out. We've recently began dating, you see, and I want to be able to take care of my lady. I can't thank God enough for putting her into my life. God be praised!