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A Wallah Bro Told Me He Loved Me — 2 Weeks In

A Wallah Bro Told Me He Loved Me — 2 Weeks In

**This article is in multiple parts — it is to be continued.**


 
Wallah bros — we all know one.
They are everywhere. From our mosques, to our university classes — and even in our social circles. They are the type of man that should be forced into isolation until they know better. The type that judge a hijabi for a wisp of hair showing, and meanwhile are taking home a different Becky every other night. “Wallah, she wants me, bro.”
Chill fam, no one wants you.
And really, they aren’t anything new. They’ve always been there. If anything, women are just more independent now and capable of calling them out.
Even better, social media and the age of the screen shot. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I’ve had to screen grab a convo with a Wallah Bro in order to get my friends to validate that homeboy was acting out of line.
And let me tell you, if it wasn’t for the ability to screen grab convos, I wouldn’t believe half the stories I’ve heard. Here is one that still renders me speechless, two years after the fact.

I cannot begin to tell you how many times I’ve had to screen grab a convo with a Wallah Bro in order to get my friends to validate that homeboy was acting out of line.

His name was Ahmed. Okay — no it wasn’t, but we’re going to call him Ahmed. Because he is a dangerous psychopath, as you will soon see.
He was the horror story that all your girls warn you to STAY THE EFF AWAY FROM. Slick hair, smooth talking, over 6’ft…you know the type. Oh, and he has a sob story…because boys like him are the eternal victim.
Like all bad things, I met him when I was — maybe — not my best self. Twenty one had been a hard year, and I was not in the headspace to make a good decision.
Cue biggest Wallah Bro of the decade. Slid into my DM asking if I was interested in working on a project with him. He was a radio host and wanted to start a podcast. To this day, I will not understand why I didn’t delete the message without responding, like I usually do with random guys.

He had a degree that my parents approved up, had enough melanin in his skin to pass as light skin, had a LinkedIn profile with a legit headshot — where was the flaw? Hint, it was everywhere.

Maybe it was because we had so many mutual friends, or because he looked like a harmless geeky tech student. Who actually knows.
A week later, we were Skyping. Two weeks later SERIOUS WORDS WERE USED, FAM. Like, he said he loved me — and I’m like, “You don’t know love until you’ve seen me PMS. Then decide if you love me.”
I will never forget this one: “Darling, I can’t wait until we are married and I can wake you up for fajr.” I burst out laughing instantly because that was such a cliché, Tumblr thing, this man was grown at 28, and I can wake myself up for fajr.
“No normal guy behaves like this, Eman,” my wise, best-guy-friend AJ said. He was scrolling through my conversations with Ahmed and came across a text where Ahmed said he loved me.
Was it weird that a man I’d never met before and only knew through mutual friends was telling me he loved me? I mean, he seemed like he checked out. I did a few background checks and people seemed to think he was great. He had a degree that my parents approved up, had enough melanin in his skin to pass as light skin, had a LinkedIn profile with a legit headshot — where was the flaw? Hint, it was everywhere.
A few days later, he asked if I wanted to get married. KEEP IN MIND, I thought I was dealing with a guy whose deen was on point. Marriage talk seemed normal, right? I mean, my best friend is happily married to the love of her life…and they talked marriage on their first date. And they’ve been together for five years. Maybe this was it for me.
I told him to come meet my parents in December. It was August and he and I were going to meet in October. Our phone calls became every day. But something about it just seemed off to me.

KEEP IN MIND, I thought I was dealing with a guy whose deen was on point. Marriage talk seemed normal, right?

I would be super happy and think he was amazing, and then he would say something that was a kick in the ribs. In hindsight, this was signs from the Creator for me to “run Forrest, run.”
I didn’t. A few weeks after he talked, I was traveling for work when he called me. “I told my mom about you,” he said. And I’ll be honest, I melted. I’m not that girl you keep secret. “And? What did she say?” I asked, eager for the response.
“I asked her how she would feel if I married a Black girl,” he said. I stopped in the middle of Pearson Airport. I’m sorry, what did this clown say?
“She yelled at me and told me not to ask something so stupid,” he said. He was laughing. To him, it was a joke — and he knew that didn’t matter to his mom, he said. But in my mind, I’m thinking, “is this clown serious?”
My skin is my pride and joy. It’s glowing. I basically think my skin is the muse for Anastasia’s Glow Kit, and this dusty-ass-melanin-deprived-punk tried to negotiate it like it was a bad thing.
I let it go. What I should have done was let him go, and prayed rakatain for the early warning signs. I didn’t listen. And so began six months of having my soul sucked out by the Head Wallah Bro.

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‘I asked her how she would feel if I married a Black girl,’ he said. I stopped in the middle of Pearson Airport. I’m sorry, what did this clown say?

Eman, why didn’t you listen? Because God wanted you to realize that any man who says he loves you in two weeks is emotionally unstable, that’s why. Lessons, I tell ya.
See, the trick with these people is that in the same day, they can both treat you like the best and worst thing that’s ever happened. And every time you try to pull away, there is a big sweeping declaration of affection. Of love. Of how special you are. And underneath all this baddiness, I’m still low-key an emotional sap. Oh,you need me in your life? Okay I’ll stay and love your broken self forever.
But you should never stay. YOU RUN, MAMA. You run at the first sign of craziness. I stayed until the 500th. The one that was over the type and signified how dangerous this person really was/is. And I joke, because humor makes it better, but really this person should be arrested.
He told me that something about his best friend — who was also Muslim — which makes this more insane. And to this day, I don’t know why it took me so long to report it to the police. It scares me that it did, because in a sick way, it’s like he groomed me to normalize his behavior.

You run at the first sign of craziness. I stayed until the 500th. The one that was over the type and signified how dangerous this person really was/is. And I joke, because humor makes it better, but really this person should be arrested.

Are you still with me? It’s coming.
One day, he told me that his best friend, some Lebanese dude whom I will refer to as Robby, records the women he’s having sex with and uploads it on to drop box to share with friends.
I’m sorry, what? And he’s still your best friend? And you’re sharing this information? Now, I’m a smart girl. I’m outspoken, I’m not intimidated and I do what I believe is right always. Except for this time. Something about this person had made me feel powerless, and like I was crazy. But see, the benefits of screenshots is that they confirm what you don’t want to believe.
That’s the thing with men like Ahmed. They groom you until you’re powerless, and then they show you this ugly. But nah papi, hoyo didn’t raise no punk.
I can have a bad day, I can have a bad week or a bad year, but you best believe that when I come to my senses, you better be ready to account for your sins.
When I realized that this man, the one who always called me darling and talked about a wedding in Morocco the first two weeks I knew him, was actually deranged, I cut all contact with him.
And then I reported it to the police. With the screenshots (to be shown next week), with his place of work, the Facebook message, and his friend’s address.

View Comments (14)
  • Creepy! His friend, I mean. Did his friend show interest in you? Did his friend want to marry you? Did he want to have intimacy with you before marriage, before he told his mother about you?
    He discussed you with his mother. That is about as big as it can get, the biggest step a guy takes when he wants a girl in his life. One big final step he takes before he proposes to the girl he loves. He tells the woman who carried him for nine months, gave him life, gave him birth, suckled him and loved him unconditionally beyond measure all of his life…that he has found a girl he loves to share his life with. He tells the woman who has loved him about the woman he loves. He was frank with you about his creepy friends. That is about as close and intimate a guy, a Muslim guy, can get short of having you in his arms.
    He did not have to tell you all that if he did not love you, trust you. In guy talk/mansplaining, he was telling you that he was not like his friend. That he was an upright man. A Muslim.When he said he will wake you up for fajr that was as loving a thing for a practicing Muslim, like bringing a cup of coffee on a weekend morning to ones wife.
    Love takes a life time, these are the little things that make it so. Love is built brick by brick. Saying or implying by words and actions “I love you” declared his truth, the first step…the last step before love is complete and sealed forever is when you lay your love in her grave and in angry and in grief cry out to your Creator: “Why did you not take me first?” As you wish you were in the grave beside her, before her.
    Love at first sight is not relevant in the Feme Age. Love came to you and knocked at your door. You laughed and ridiculed it. You have had your chance. Love does not knock twice. Sex every weekend, twice on holidays. It is two years since. The clock will run faster each year from now on, accelerate!
    Have a nice day FemNazi.

    • You’re gross. If you know you’re friend if sexually exploiting women and you do nothing to stop it, you are scum of the earth. Please take your ideas of love elsewhere.

      • Oh I forgot to sign it, FemNazi. Cause you best believe I’ll wear that badge with pride if it keeps me away from rape-culture-spreading men like you and the featured Wallah Bros. Please email me if you’d like your own feature. xo

        • “Oh I forgot to sign it, FemNazi. Cause you best believe I’ll wear that badge with pride”
          FemNazis’ have corrupted morals and memories. A Muslim girl would NOT wear that ‘Badge of Shame’ at any cost much less with pride. It proclaims the ultimate degradation of women before men: “I am a S|ut, do me” to the World.
          “if it keeps me away from rape-culture-spreading men
          like you”

          You are shamelessly presumptuous. I don’t rape. Not for a million bucks or more can I do harram. I have saved three girls from brutal rape on three different occasions in my life.
          Once almost at the cost of my life when a girl was flailing and screaming and crying in the woods as I jogged by: “Allah, Ya Allah in the name of Muhammad help me. Allah please help me”.
          Two men had her pinned to the ground, stripping her, trying to spread her legs which she was holding together curled – crying, screaming shouting, with all her might… two men, two armed men! She looked at me and pleaded Khuda Ke Waste, Allah ke Rasul Ke Waste”. The World disappeared around me. All was silence and in slow motion. All I could see was them the trio. A strange feeling of power and prowess and invulnerability flowed into me, through me…
          I have made one judgmental mistake in my life but that was on the on the Internet, not in real life, when I misjudged a girl as good but who turned our to be an older woman, an experience older woman, a S|ut.
          In real life – when you are like me – keeping girls, some women too, off me … and I mean physically off me has been a chore and a ‘Test of Yusaf’ repeated over and over again for me – that I have passed many times more than he did.
          I don’t do Harram. I have been made immune to Harram in any and all of its many versions and temptations. Angels watch over me. I have not failed these tests by the Grace of Allah.
          Please email me if you’d like your own feature. xo
          Thank you. But no thank you. No disrespect meant. I may want, perhaps one day, but my time at this time is already tightly organized. Setting some apart to comment in the name of Islam is all I can do at this time. In commenting on your article, I am encouraging your work, challenging you to think things through – not just criticism for the heck of it. It is not.
          I think MuslimGirl is doing well without me and will continue to do better, exploring, daring, and provocative…examining, testing Muslim girls life from all angels. Lighting it, enlightening us. Thank you.
          Wish you and Muslimgirl well.
          Be well, be safe, all of you.
          Peace & blessings!

      • In the real world you need solid verifiable proof not talk. The law wants to see hard evidence not hear say – he said, she said, this and that – which can be denied by hear say alone.

  • The guy sounds like no prize, but the author sounds unstable as well. She keeps blaming him for why she stayed instead of taking responsibility. Honestly, these articles come off as vindictive and like the man has moved on whereas the woman is still a jealous mess. Feminism is about equality in personal responsibility as well not just in perks.

      • Actually you covered for his friend until you two broke up. You only spoke up after you got dumped. So you are just as complicit in protecting that creep, boo.

        • No lol. I didn’t say anything until I could find someone to hack his dropbox so that I had something to give the police. The joys of being a journalist is that we understand the need for a paper trail and actual proof. But thanks for trying to explain my own story to me boo xo.

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