From Yemen With Love In Ottawa

I decided to get to know Vincent a bit better, and I must say, I liked what I discovered. Vincent and I began hanging out, and I didn't care who knew. I was fascinated by him. He took me to the movies, and restaurants, and he was always the perfect gentleman. When I sat him down and told him about my Islamic faith, my ambitions as a future lawyer, and my dreams, hopes and dears as a young woman of color in Canada, Vincent listened to me attentively. You can do anything you set your mind too my sister, Vincent told me, covering my tiny hand with his big hand. I looked at his hand on mine and smiled, trying to play it cool while shuddering in happiness.

Vincent and I became an item. Two months after we met, he told me that he cared about me and wanted to know more about me, and my faith. I can't tell you how happy that made me. That Friday, I took Vincent to my favorite Masjid, and introduced him to my Imam. He entered through the brothers entrance, and prayed with the men, while I entered through the sisters entrance and prayed with the women. I watched Vincent as he walked into the mosque and silently prayed to Allah. Let him find the path and be mine, I said, then bowed respectfully and entered the holy place.

Afterwards, I waited outside for Vincent, and saw a big smile on his face as he exited the Masjid, talking to the brothers. I saw him talking to Bilal Hussein, a Somali brother he apparently knew from school. Thank you for bringing me, Vincent said, and gave me a hug. People stared at us. In my faith, close contact between unrelated and unmarried men and women is forbidden. Not too long ago, I never would have broken that rule. However, Vincent has that effect on me. I hugged him back fiercely, not caring what anyone thought. Come back anytime Insha'Allah, I said, with tears in my eyes.

Vincent and I left the Masjid. He walked me to the bus stop, and we chatted while waiting inside the bus shelter. When the bus number eighteen came, I grabbed it, but not before hugging Vincent good night. God bless you my brother, I said, and hugged him again. I waved him goodbye, then showed my green U-Pass to the bus driver before getting on the crimson and white bus. I sat there, lost in thoughts of Vincent. When he hugged me I felt...something. A deep, powerful feeling from deep inside. It was a pleasant feeling.

I went home, happy as can be. My mother noticed, smiled, and asked me about Vincent. He loves the Masjid, I said happily, and hugged my mother. I was falling in love with Vincent, and was overjoyed when he decided to embrace Islam, shortly after New Year's 2014. Now we can be together, I told him happily, as we sat in a restaurant together, celebrating after he took his Shahada in front of everybody at the Masjid. Vincent took the name Waddah Al-Wazir, which means the brilliant minister, in Arabic. To the outside world, he would continue to be Vincent Saint-Guillaume, Haitian-Canadian. To us Muslims, he is our brother Waddah Al-Wazir, the brilliant one.

A week later, I finally introduced Vincent/Waddah to my family. My parents were thrilled to meet this fledgling new Muslim, the stalwart young Haitian-Canadian man who saved me from danger the first time we met. I felt a frisson deep inside as my father shook Vincent/Waddah's hand, and embraced him. Welcome to the best religion, Dad said sincerely, and Vincent nodded respectfully. Mom smiled, as did Hassan. Let's eat, my little brother said, and we all burst out laughing.