Alia Sammad of Yemen

In late 2017, the modern world reacted with horror upon discovering that African migrants trying to get to Europe by boat got kidnapped on the high seas and brought to the shores of Libya, where they were sold off as slaves to the highest bidder. When the news hit CNN, RDI and other major news outlets, a lot of people were shocked, but Alia Sammad, a woman in whose veins both Libyan and African blood flowed, wasn't one of them.

Hatred of Africans is alive and well in many parts of the Arab world, and North Africa is definitely no exception. From Morocco to Tunisia and Libya, dark-skinned people are treated poorly for no other reason than their skin color. This really shouldn't have surprised anyone. Long before Europeans began the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade and forcibly brought scores of Africans into the New World, Arabs made slaves of Africans.

The African male slaves were often castrated and turned into eunuchs, and used as farm laborers, builders, and sometimes soldiers. The African female slaves were often turned into concubines, existing sorely for their Arab masters pleasure. The Afro-Arabian populations found all over the Middle East and Africa owe their existence to the dalliance of Arab masters and African female slaves. That's the ugly legacy of Arabian colonialism in Africa, and it's not exactly something that's discussed by many.

In places like Libya, Mauritania, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and a few others, people of African descent are still kept in slave-like conditions by the Arabs. When CNN exposed these barbaric practices, the Arab world got in an uproar, and this sheer hypocrisy made a certain cynical biracial Muslim woman chuckle. I wish they'd get over themselves and admit their wrongdoing, Alia thought bitterly.

Alia Sammad has met a lot of people and lived in many places in her thirty seven years upon this earth. Born in the City of Al Moukalla, Yemen, to a Yemeni Arab Muslim father and an Afro-Libyan mother, Alia learned at an early age that the world was unkind to those who were different from the majority. While Yemen was very close to the African nation of Somalia, interracial couples were still the subject of scorn, thanks to many close-minded souls.

Verily, the fact that Alia's mother Yasmin Sammad was half black and half Arab did not sit well with some of the Yemeni Arab ladies in their hometown of Al Moukalla. These ladies saw Yasmin as a half-breed foreigner who bewitched and stole one of their precious Yemeni Arab men. Alia's father Hamid tried his best to protect his wife and daughter from a hostile world, but there was only so much he could do. Anti-black racism was alive and well in all corners of the Islamic world...

Alia Sammad grew up to be six feet tall, and very voluptuous, having inherited long curly dark hair, dark bronze skin, and almond-shaped golden brown eyes from her Afro-Libyan mother and Yemeni Arab father. In the Republic of Yemen, Alia was considered exotically beautiful by some, and an anomaly by others. When her parents moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, Alia experienced a whole new world, one far different from anything she could have imagined...

Living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, forever changed Alia Sammad's outlook on life. In Canada, Alia saw policewomen, and female soldiers, and female politicians, and was thrilled to be living in a world where women could do anything that men did. For a pious, Hijab-wearing young Muslim woman who grew up in a world where the sexes spent a lot of time apart, and a large number of women were housewives, this was truly a defining moment.

Alia Sammad enrolled at the University of Ottawa, where she studied business management, and after graduating she began working for KPMG. It wasn't easy for her as a Hijab-wearing Muslim gal, in a lily-white, overtly friendly and covertly hostile workplace with a lot of hidden pitfalls, but Alia persevered. That's why she rose to the level of upper management.

At the age of thirty, Alia's parents began pressuring her to get married. They were getting old and wanted to see their only daughter become a wife and mother. At a company event, Alia met a Palestinian guy named Farouk Ali, and they had a whirlwind romance and got hitched. Their marriage lasted seven years, ended in divorce, and produced nothing but headaches and a pile of debt for Alia. She'd just about given up on the male of the species, especially the ones from the Islamic world, until she met a most wonderful and unusual man...

"Cultural differences can sometimes be more of a problem than racial ones, take me, for example, my father Hamid was from Yemen and my mother Yasmin is from Libya, both of them Muslims but from two very different cultures, and I think that's part of the reason why they divorced," Alia Sammad said, and the tall, bronze-skinned and raven-haired gal looked at her student, and smiled wistfully. If only this one knew what he was in for, Alia thought, almost bitterly.

"Differences are only a problem if you let them become a problem, at the end of the day, we're all human," Abraham "Ibrahim" Stanwood replied, and the young Jamaican Muslim stroked his goateed chin and looked at Alia thoughtfully. A while ago, the two of them met at SNMC, the Islamic community center located in the City of Barrhaven, Ontario. At the time, Ibrahim was a newcomer to Islam, having converted from a Jamaican Catholic background. Thus they met, and later forged a friendship that nothing could ever break...

"Ever the optimist, Habibi," Alia replied, smiling at Ibrahim while shaking her head. Ever since Alia first laid eyes on the tall, dark-skinned and dreadlocked young Jamaican Muslim, she knew that he was one of a kind. The brother walked into the Islamic community center with a confident stride, addressing men and women alike with respect, but absolutely no fear. Ibrahim intrigued Alia, and that was part of the reason why she agreed to teach him Arabic...

That's how it all began, the relationship, for lack of a better term, which changed Alia's life. Alia did a lot of volunteering at SNMC, and teaching Arabic to new converts was one of her duties. Why did she agree to do some one-on-one tutoring with Ibrahim? I have my reasons and they have little to do with the faith, Alia thought with a wicked smile as she looked at the sexy piece of chocolate sitting opposite her, inside Bridgehead in downtown Ottawa.

"Ente Jamile Masha'Allah," Ibrahim replied, and with that, he took Alia's hand and brought it to his lips. Alia's heart skipped a beat, and she smiled at Ibrahim. The handsome young Jamaican had a swagger and charm that she found simply irresistible. That's part of what drew Alia to Ibrahim. The African men that Alia grew up seeing in Yemen were nothing like Ibrahim. They were the browbeaten descendants of people who had been conquered. Ibrahim on the other hand, carried himself like a prince, and didn't give a damn what anyone else thought...

"You flatter me handsome," Alia replied, and she winked at Ibrahim, who smiled innocently. Hand in hand, the two of them left Bridgehead, and then headed back to her place for some much-needed stress relief...of sorts. When they reached Alia's spot in Nepean, Ibrahim and Alia didn't do a lot of talking, that's for damn sure. Passions that had been barely held in check for ages suddenly bubbled to the surface, and were unleashed at last...

"You're so beautiful," Ibrahim said, watching as Alia undressed before him. The tall, curvy, bronze-skinned Muslim cutie smiled and pinched her nipples as she stood before him, stark naked, her voluptuous body causing his loins to stir. Alia licked her lips and then turned around, and that thick round booty which she'd spent so long hiding under her traditional Islamic skirt came into full view...and Ibrahim began to salivate.

"You love this ass, I've seen you check it out every time we got together," Alia replied, a cocky grin on her lovely face. Ibrahim and Alia looked at one another, man to woman, born-Muslim to convert, lover to lover. Ibrahim drew Alia into his arms and kissed her, and then hastily undressed. The curvy young Yemeni woman kissed Ibrahim passionately, and gave his cute ass a firm squeeze.

"I can see you need this," Ibrahim replied, and he stuck his tongue down Alia's throat, and pushed her on the couch, before going to work on her. Ibrahim feasted his eyes on Alia's curvy body, which silently called out to him. His eager lips found her breasts, and he sucked on her areolas. Alia moaned softly as Ibrahim sucked on her tits, and he slid his hand between her thick thighs, and began fingering her pussy.

"What I need is you," Alia said, in a husky, throaty voice, and Ibrahim grinned, then kissed a path from her breasts to her belly, and then the space between her legs. Leaning back on the couch, Alia relaxed and enjoyed as Ibrahim began giving her pussy a tongue bath. All the tension she'd been feeling lately due to her job and home situation, or lack thereof, simply melted away, thanks to a certain Jamaican Muslim stud's magic tongue...

"Hmm, magically delicious," Ibrahim said, and he twisted his tongue against Alia's pussy, teasing her clitoris with his tongue. Alia shuddered violently as Ibrahim began to torture her in the most wonderful of ways. When he put her on all fours and began tonguing her ass, she squealed in delight. Most men from her part of the world balked at eating ass, and Ibrahim was a welcome difference...

"Oh fuck, Habibi, eat my ass," Alia squealed, her voluptuous body shaking violently as Ibrahim ate her ass, his tongue sliding deep into her asshole. On all fours, face down and ass up, Alia relaxed and enjoyed as Ibrahim ate her ass like there was no tomorrow. The Jamaican Muslim brother teased and probed her posterior like no one before, sending tingles of pleasure deep inside of her. Panting and moaning, Alia finally let go, and enjoyed the ride...

After working Alia's big booty over, Ibrahim showed her a thing or two. The outwardly conservative, privately freaky Yemeni gal found herself on her knees, with a dark, menacing object hovering right before her face. With a wicked grin, Ibrahim rubbed his long, hard dick against Alia's lips, teasing the hell out of her. Alia opened her mouth, and in one smooth move, she engulfed Ibrahim's manhood, and began sucking on it greedily.

"Hmm, this feels good," Ibrahim said softly, and Alia nodded, her lovely head bobbing up and down as she fellated him. Later, they kicked things up a notch, and Alia found herself once more on all fours, with Ibrahim greedily grasping her ass cheeks, even as he pressed his phallus against her. Alia licked her lips as Ibrahim pushed his dick into her pussy with a swift thrust. Just like that, they finally merged and became one. That's when the fun really began...

"Oh yeah, fuck me, Habibi, give me that island dick," Alia cried out, as Ibrahim took her, face down and ass up, drilling his dick into her juicy pussy. Gripping her long dark hair, which was sans Hijab for a change, Ibrahim yanked Alia's head back, and fucked her with gusto. Alia screamed wildly, uttering wild moans, and vicious obscenities, in both Arabic and English, without a care in the world. Ibrahim, who loved the sounds she made, spanked her big ass and fucked her harder. This was too damn good...

Much later, Alia lay in Ibrahim's arms, still aglow from a good fuck, with a big smile on her face. The formerly wanton and pleasurably sore Yemeni Muslim woman looked at her ardent lover, a fine young brother from Jamaican, newly Muslim, and oh-so sexy. A long time ago, prior to moving to North America, and seeing the Arab culture in which she was raised through a fresh lens, Alia shunned men who looked like Ibrahim, for no reason other than their skin color. After making the mistake of marrying Farouk Ali, Alia learnt better...

Living in North America exposed Alia Sammad to a lot of things, from the perils of white supremacy and racism to gendered violence, Islamophobia, and so much more. Living in a country where women enjoyed equality with men also taught her a thing or two. Being a Muslim female immigrant in Canada wasn't easy, but it strengthened Alia's resolve on a lot of things. It also exposed the racism of the Arab world to a woman who had grown up in it, and grown so blasé about it as to normalize it...

"No more, I know better now," Alia thought to herself as she lay in Ibrahim's arms. The Jamaican Muslim brother was fast asleep, his strong heartbeat thundering in his chest. Pressing her head against him, Alia could hear it, steady and strong. Perhaps Ibrahim was the one sent to her by her angels in the vaults of Jannah. Smiling to herself, Alia mused on the future. It wasn't going to be easy, sharing her life with a black Muslim man. Arab males and others would be insanely jealous whenever they saw her with Ibrahim, but Alia didn't care. She was ready to live and love on her own terms, or die trying...