Hijab for Allah, Ass for Abdullah

‘How far have you gone just to get some pussy?’

That was all I asked Kobby. It was one of the cool evenings in June, we shared several bottles of Smirnoff Ice when he engaged me in this tale. He paused, with a glint in his eye almost devilish, then he turned to me saying “Did I ever tell you I converted to Islam briefly?” much to my bewilderment. You see, this came as a shock because I knew his mum – she was a devout Catholic and I didn’t see how she’d let that slide easily.

So the thing is Kobby, like a wolf, thrives on the thrills of a hunt – only that his prey are usually girls that are well outside of his usual reach. He met Ayishatu through his good friend, Odartei, at a concert they were all attending. Seeing her gyrate and swirl like wet clay in a potter’s hand to various Afrobeats songs set off a spark in Kobby’s head.

He took another swig of Smirnoff and turned to me solemnly, “Bro, the girl move me bad that night.” I laughed.

For several days after the concert Kobby stayed in touch with Ayishatu, and with each interaction his sexual attraction towards her grew more. His first hurdle came when he could no longer see Ayishatu as often because her parents were back in town from their travels. And with them being very strict, there was no way she could meet him out on their usual evening dates.

“With the way things were going I had to convert, chale.” He looked at me as if trying to convince me to understand. “You barb? Chale if you see the girl, you’ll understand.”

‘So you became Muslim for some ass?’


‘Nigga what?’ He was actually serious about it. I tried so hard not to laugh because I know Kobby. His dedication was astounding sometimes. ‘So what was your Muslim name then?’

“Abdullah” he muttered.

I lost it. It might have been the alcohol but I burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. It turns out he hid this from his mother, which might’ve been a hectic routine combining both religious activities.

This went on for about 6 weeks. Within this period he had gone to visit Ayishatu at her house at least 5 times, her parents being more receptive of him after his initial visit when they ‘found out’ he was trying to convert to Islam. He was even encouraged to come over more frequently, sharing teachings with him, unbeknownst to them that he was doing all this just to get to Ayishatu.

It was during this time that Ayishatu’s parents took a day off to visit her grandparents back at their hometown. And like clockwork, Kobby Abdullah went to see Ayishatu in their absence – the first opportunity since he started this charade and more so because his visit now won’t cause any stir since the security man was familiar with him and all that.

“Chale I didn’t waste time when I got inside.. especially after I realized she was also down for it. I mean it’s been like- how many weeks now doing this? And she knew.”

He moved in to kiss her, fondling her while at it, both moaning sensually into each other’s mouths. He half-pulled half-carried her into her room, leaving no trail of clothes behind them. After more kissing and nibbling and fondling, both aroused at this point, she looked in his face asked, “Will you really tuba for me?”

‘I don’t understand what you mean, dear’ he replied, all the while removing her hijab.

“No, leave the hijab on.”

She took off her blouse herself as he knelt before her. He then turned her around and pulled down the harem pants she wore.


He muttered under his breath with glee as her fat butt cheeks bounced in his face. Still kneeling, he touched her soft buttocks with his forehead like he does to the ground when praying and planted a soft kiss on it. He held on to her waist beads with one hand as he traced the luscious stretch mark lines that adorned her derriere like fiery lightning on a stormy rainy night in July.

‘Haha, what are you doing Kobby?’ Ayishatu said to him, very amused by his reaction. He stayed posed in his kneeling stance, as though he had finally found his true deity.

“Abdullah,” he replied, “the name is Abdullah.”

Image illustrated by author.

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