A Kuwait Man Becomes Christian

Atifah Khader wasn't the only religious woman out there with two faces, one for her family and fellow religious folk, and one which was her true self, her freaky self. I remember Josephine Saint-Mathieu, this pretty Haitian chick I ran into in the City of Brockton, Massachusetts. She was a student at Massasoit Community College, and a devoted member of a local Haitian Catholic church. I met her through my Mexican-American friend Hector Gonzales, whose sister Anna was Josephine's best friend. Josephine was a church chick but she was also a freak. She had a thing for light-skinned guys and I guess I fit the bill. That's why we fucked in her parents basement two days after we were introduced. The sexy Haitian diva laid me down on an old mattress and sucked my cock, then asked me to lick her kitty. I was more than okay with that. I spread Josephine's thighs and licked her pussy real good, then I put on a condom and shoved my dick into her cunt. A couple hours later, I walked out of her house with an extra bounce on my step. Getting laid will do that to a man.

All these thoughts about my wild past ran through my head as I gazed at Sholonda's church in action. Among all these throngs of true believers, how many of them were secretly gay or bisexual? How many husbands beat their wives and for that matter, how many wives beat their husbands? How many of these good church folk smoked marijuana, slept around and did all kinds of nasty things? How many of these young church ladies were college students and "good girls" by day and escorts by night? How many of these well-dressed church brothers sucked dick on the side? I've seen so many gay and bisexual guys in mosques that I shudder just thinking about it. In Islam, men and women spend a lot of time away from each other, so a lot of dudes fuck other dudes because they don't have access to women. Lots of Muslim women probably do the same thing. That's one of Islam's little secrets. The prevalence of hidden bisexuality among Muslim men and Muslim women. The way I figure it, hardline Christians must have the same thing going on.

When the ceremony ended, Sholonda and I stayed behind. She wanted to rearrange the chairs, among other things. I was more than happy to help her. Her father joined us shortly, along with a couple of other volunteers. The church folk seemed remarkably close together, at least to me. They cooked together, prayed together, ate together, and kept in constant contact via cellphone along with Twitter, MySpace and Facebook, of course. That night, after church, I joined Sholonda and her dad for dinner. During that somewhat uncomfortable but eye-opening event, I got to know them both a bit better. The good reverend Stephen Georges, whom I had correctly judged to be a military man, was a stern man. A graduate of the Virginia Military Institute, he served the United States Marine Corps for twenty years before finding his calling as a preacher. His first church was a congregation in Atlanta, and the second one was his current church in Boston.

This man was stern and proud, having come up through the school of hard knocks before righting his life and finding what he called "the way". He looked me in the eye when talking to me, which I found a bit daunting. He had a lot of questions about my family, my views on race, and of course my faith. I told him that my family consisted of my jet-setting, womanizing and hard-drinking Kuwaiti sheikh of a father and myself, that I was quite comfortable identifying as Afro-Arabian rather than merely African-American, and I was raised Muslim. How much of a Muslim was I at that point? Hmm. Let's see. I hadn't been to mosque in a decade. I mainly dated women from other religions and cultures because Muslim females come with too much baggage, too many bloody traditions and far too many restrictions. I also had a dog, a hairy brown mutt named Barker, because he barks a lot, and most of my friends are Christians and Jews. I don't really associate with other Muslims, with the exception of my buddy Omar, a Somali guy who considered himself an atheist these days.

The good reverend watched me like a hawk as I answered his questions. There was something about me he didn't like, and Sholonda picked up on it. She smiled icily and asked her dad to stop interrogating me. I smiled politely at the good reverend. A lot of people make all kinds of assumptions about me before they get to know me. Let me answer some of the burning questions that Christians, Jews, atheists, feminists and others have asked me in the past. How do I feel about women's rights? I'm fine with women having the same rights as men as long as they embrace the same responsibilities and burdens. How do I feel about middle-eastern terrorism? Um, it's a bad thing. What westerners don't realize is that terrorist groups like Boko Haram, Al-Qaeda and Al-Shabab kill far more Muslims than non-Muslims when they're fucking things up. They're idiots. How do I feel about female circumcision? I oppose it. Hell, while we're at it, ban male circumcision too because I don't think foreskin has anything to do with a man's connection to God, whether he calls himself Jewish, Christian or Muslim. How do I feel about Bin Laden? I'm glad he's gone. Glad President Obama got rid of him. It's about time. Shows you us brothers often can do what the white guys can't. How do I feel about Sharia Law being applied in western countries? I'm against it. The Koran itself states that Muslims should follow the laws of the countries they're living in. How do I feel about honor killings? Men from Muslim backgrounds need to realize that Muslim women living outside of the Muslim world are more western than not, and that they have to adjust their worldview. Otherwise they can go back wherever they came from, if they miss it so much. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, those are the burning questions I get asked about my erstwhile faith. Anything else?

I thought the good reverend was done questioning me, but the man had to get one last shot in. Pastor Stephen Georges smiled at me beatifically, then asked me that question every guy dreads when meeting some chick's daughter. What are your intentions regarding my daughter? Sholonda sighed with exasperation, and rolled her eyes. The reverend's eyes never left mine. I smiled at him and thought about the question. How to best answer a question often depends on a person's understanding of the underlying motives behind every question. When the preacher of a Christian church asks the Muslim male friend of his daughter what his intentions are, the male friend in question has to read between the lines. What does this mofo want? Does he think I'm one of those crazy Muslim guys who try to convert every person they run into? Fuck that, I wouldn't run around doing that shit even if I was getting paid. Sholonda shook her head and told her dad to relax. I smiled at her and told her everything was okay, then I answered the reverend. I told him what I knew he wanted to hear. You see, rabbis, priests and imams aren't as different from one another as they might think. When the daughter of a rabbi introduces him to a young man, the dad often starts hearing wedding bells and wonders about the suitability of said young man. Same thing goes for a preacher or an imam in a similar situation.

I smiled at the reverend, and used my best acting chops to cause my eyes to go moist. Not teary, mind you, but moist. I looked at Sholonda, smiled at her gently and brushed her hand with mine ( without laying my hand on hers ) , a gesture the reverend's eyes tracked. I licked my lips, then told the boldest lie I've ever told, an even bolder lie than when I told a state trooper in Easton that I was new to America and wasn't used to the mile system, thinking instead in kilometers, as far as to why I exceeded the speed limit. I cranked up my accent and everything, and the state trooper, a fat redheaded white chick, actually bought it. I told Sholonda and her dad that I was in crisis, that I felt spiritually barren. I stayed away from the mosque because I felt bad when the imams raged against the Jews and Christians, who represented most of my friends. I told them that after attending no less than two Christian schools, I honestly felt curious about Christianity as a religion, even while struggling with the realization that Islam wasn't working for me, as far as who I am today.

If lightning had struck Sholonda upon hearing those words, she wouldn't have been more shocked. Her eyes widened and her mouth was agape with surprise. Her father didn't react, though. The reverend got up from his seat at the end of the table, and walked up to me. He laid his hand on my shoulder, and told me that it was God's will that I had come to his church today. I tried really hard not to smile, and succeeded. He laid his thick hand on my arm at the precise moment that Sholonda gently touched my hand. Our three hands were joined, so to speak. Father and daughter exchanged a look, and he smiled at me. You are going in a good direction, he said. I smiled as I realized the deep shit I was in. I wanted to get the good reverend to back off. Even though I was no longer a practicing Muslim, I still believed in Allah. Islam is more than just the Masjid ( mosque). I told the dude that I was interested in Christianity to get him to back off. Instead, I was plunged in the thick of things as both he and Sholonda suddenly developed an unhealthy interest in my spiritual life. Allah Afiz, what's a guy to do? I'm in deep shit!

That's how it all began, ladies. How I found myself attending church weekly with Sholonda, much to the delight of reverend Stephen Georges. I swear I just wanted to get in her pants. Before I knew it, Sholonda was inviting me to bible study, whose membership surprised me. This chick and her dad had some kind of talent for reaching wayward souls. I mean, I was stunned to see guys who looked like gang bangers and chicks who looked like hookers attending bible study and church service. Again and again I was called upon to speak in front of them, about how I felt lost in Islam and basically began to look elsewhere for answers, which led me to Christianity. Many people in church stood up every week to give their testimony, but mine was the story they all wanted to hear. These church folk were used to hearing about Christians who switched to Islam, but Muslims leaving Islam for Christianity was completely unheard of.

Now, I never told them that I wanted to convert to Christianity. I only told them that I wanted to learn about the bible and Jesus Christ. I figured I'd teach reverend Stephen Georges a lesson for ambushing me back at his house that night by banging his daughter. And the way to Sholonda Georges' heart was through her Christian faith. As I began to spend a lot of time with her, people started noticing us together and many assumed that we were a couple. Sholonda herself did nothing to dissuade them of these notions. I was okay with the attention, but didn't want word to get back to my father, or the Muslim community at large. You see, many Muslims aren't practicing, but if a Muslim guy or gal makes waves by saying publicly that they're leaving Islam, sooner or later, someone's going to take them out. Sholonda blew my cover by stating in a meeting of the Black Student Union at Boston College that I was 'changing' through the power of Jesus Christ.

The two Muslim students in our group, Farah the Somali chick and Jamal the brother from the Nation of Islam got really pissed off at me. Farah boldly challenged me, calling me a kafir and an apostate. Jamal called me a punk for allowing myself to get brainwashed by some female. I was about to explain to them that I wasn't really becoming a Christian, that I was still Muslim, but I got pissed when Jamal questioned my manhood. No one does that. I rushed over to the mofo and decked him. The big guy from the Nation of Islam fell and I rained on him with my fists. Farah leapt on my back, clawing at my face. I howled in pain as the bitch went for my eyes. That's when Sholonda jumped in, grabbing Farah and pulling the crazy Somali bitch from me. All around us, the gathering of students erupted into hooting and hollering. Security escorted us out of the building. So much for a peaceful gathering of Black students from diverse cultures and religions, huh?

As we walked off campus, Sholonda and I paused by a bench on a nearby park to catch our breath. What a night! Sholonda kept apologizing profusely, telling me that she was sorry for outing me like that. I looked at this beautiful young Black woman, and found myself mesmerized by her beauty. Lord she's beautiful. For the past few months I've thought of nothing besides bedding her, and ridiculing her uptight father the church preacher by doing so. I wanted to do her wrong, and she was trying to do me right the entire time. She believed in me and supported me. What an amazing woman. Impulsively, I leaned closer and kissed her. Sholonda seemed surprised, but did not hesitate to put her arms around me and kissed me. I smiled at her and told her I'd been dying to kiss her for ages. Sholonda grinned, smacked my ass and told me she was in the mood for more than just kissing. Translation? The lady wants to fuck. Or make love, whatever.

I looked at Sholonda, and my dick hardened as I thought of her big round booty and how fantastic her tall, curvy body must look underneath them clothes. I wanted her as badly as she wanted me. We couldn't go back to my place. What's a guy to do? Sholonda came up with the solution. She whispered in my ear that her dad was out of town for a conference, and she had the place all to herself. I grinned at her. Perfect! We drove from Boston College to Sholonda's place. As soon as we got there, we unleashed the storm of our passions, so to speak. I once heard somewhere that church chicks are the biggest freaks. I guess whoever said it must have been right because as soon as we got to her place, Sholonda the afro-centric church-going sister turned into something a porn star would recognize. Didn't know she had it in her, but I liked it!

We lay on her bed, and I quickly made her clothes disappear, along with mine. Gently, I kissed her lips while caressing her big and firm, all-natural breasts. Sholonda caressed my hairy chest and reached for my groin as I licked a path from her tits to her pussy. Gently I spread her thighs and began practicing the timeless art of muff diving. Down there, Sholonda was all natural. I doubt she's shaved even once in her life but I don't mind because I'm freaky like that. I licked that hairy mound, thrust my fingers into her pussy and licked away. I had her moaning my name in two languages, English and profane. I love eating pussy. Some dudes go at it like it's a chore or a preliminary for the main event. I see pussy eating as an integral part of pleasuring a woman. If you are a good to her, she'll be good to you. And I was so good to Sholonda that I had her shrieking and convulsing in pleasure by the time I was done licking her kitty.

Next, I wanted to stick it in but Sholonda told me that she wanted to taste me. Before I could stop her, she grabbed my dick and began sucking me like her life depended on it. I lay on the bed and smiled to myself as yet another gorgeous, deeply religious young woman took my dick into her mouth. Still, Sholonda wasn't like the others, at least not to me. As she pleasured me, I murmured words of encouragement to her, and also told her how beautiful she was. I don't normally bother doing that shit to chicks who are going down on me. They know what the deal is at that point. Sholonda sucked me really good, so much that she had my toes curling. I warned her that I was about to cum and she just winked at me. Shoot, I came. And she just took it all. Hot damn. I didn't know she got down like that. It's all good, though.

Sholonda and I continued with our fun, and she climbed on top of me. For several moments we playfully wrestled, as if she wanted to get away from me and my hard dick. I put on a condom before slipping my cock into her pussy. Like hell, she wasn't getting away from this jimmy. She straddled me, and I saw a look of lust and hunger in her smoldering dark eyes. She wanted this, and I wanted to give it to her. I was about to enter her when she stopped me. Damn, we've come this far and she wants to stop now? I looked at her, wondering if everything was alright. Sholonda nodded, then asked me to be gentle with her. I smiled at that. I can definitely do gentle. Gently I pressed my dick against her pussy, then eased my cock inside of her. Sholonda let out a sharp cry as I penetrated her. We began making love slowly, taking our sweet time. She wasn't going anywhere and neither was I. Looking into her eyes, I saw more than a wild, sexy woman who was giving me her all in the bedroom. I saw the woman who changed my life. I saw the woman I wanted to be with, always. And I gave her my all, mind, body and soul.

When morning came, it found Sholonda Georges and I, Tariq Rahim Alkaabi, entwined in each other's arms. When Sholonda opened her eyes, she saw me looking at her and smiled. I smiled too, though at that moment I felt very scared. Not of her, of course. I was scared of all the things which were happening. Too much was happening, things were going too fast. Yesterday the Muslim students at the Black Student Union found out I was considering Apostasy, the most grievous crime in all of Islam. Anyone who leaves the religion of Islam becomes an Apostate and it becomes the duty of all true Muslims to destroy him or her. Apostates know too much and must not be allowed to live. I looked at Sholonda, at the oversized crucifix hanging ominously above her bed, and at our reflections in the mirror. I was no longer Muslim, so what was I? I asked myself that aloud. Without realizing it, I had begun to tremble. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

When all this started, in my mind it was just a game. I would bed Sholonda, and make sure that her proud Christian father, the good reverend Stephen Georges knew that his darling daughter had given it up to me, a Muslim, one of the people his ex-U.S. military ass hated. Hell, I told myself I might even convince her to leave her religion and embrace mine. What an affront that would be to her uptight Christian father. Seducing Christian girls and getting them to leave their religion and their families, it's what many young, good-looking Muslim guys like myself do. It's called Romeo Jihad, and we're GOOD at it. In hindsight, though I didn't think it through, that must have been the plan. Until everything started to go wrong. I found myself falling in love with Sholonda, with her church, and with the life she showed me that could be mine. If I was truly honest with myself, I had to admit that I felt far more welcome at Sholonda's church than any of the mosques which I once attended. Back in Kuwait, I was seen as the mongrel son of a wealthy Kuwaiti sheikh who bedded an exotic African woman. In America, in the black church, I was surrounded by people who were more like me than not. I was...home.

I looked at Sholonda, and realized that I had tears in my eyes when she rushed to me, wrapped her arms around me and asked me if I was okay. I looked at this young woman who changed everything I was, without even trying, and smiled. Women are mysterious creatures, aren't they? I kissed her forehead, then told her that I loved her, and her church, and the life she showed me I could have. Sholonda grinned and kissed me passionately. She held my hand afterwards, and told me she'd be there by my side to help me weather the storm. How right she was. A storm was coming. News of my apostasy spread like wildfire among the Muslim community of Boston, and beyond. Overnight I found myself thrown out of Boston College. Apparently, even at this predominantly Christian school, lorded over by Jesuit priests, the Muslims had pull. I got expelled from Boston College, they blamed it on the fight at the Black Student Union meeting. I was saddened by that, but that was nothing compared to what my father would unleash on me after he found out.