I'm Coming Back

By Donna Foster Zahid

Donna Foster Zahid was a young mother looking forward to a bright future with her husband and young son. One day, that bright future turned into a dark nightmare when her husband whisked their son off to his native country, Pakistan, and announced that the young boy would remain there. Effectively kidnapped, the boy had no idea where his parents were nor the anguish his mother was going through. We are all led to believe that our government is there for us. Donna immediately went through "the system" of government help and found stone wall after stone wall. With no other choice, she took matters into her own hands. Donna tells a stirring and compelling story of clandestine meetings, tense moments with gun-toting Pakistani officials, and a lot of prayer. The happy ending reunites Donna with her son.

Seeing my God part the sea, knowing faith opened every door along the way!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685701499

Book preview

Chapter 1

Moving to DC

Irecall in the early ’80s life was good. Ronald Reagan just got elected as president. My dad told my sister Dorrie and I to move to Washington, DC.

Dad was chairman of Illinois Black Republican Council, and he thought he could get us political appointments. My younger sister, Dorrie, and I jumped into our Buick aka deuce and quarter and headed to the capital. We were beautiful young women of color. When we first arrived, we met an older man named Gary Mays. He told us he was from a small town called Charleston, West Virginia. Same small town as my dad. There we were in DC, lost and had no place to sleep that night. We asked if he could help us find a place to stay. Miraculously, he took us in, and we ended up living with him for several months.

Amazing how God works in mysterious ways. He was godsent and a true gentleman. Gary was the original one armed bandit. He ended up becoming a good friend of the family. I remember when we left Gary’s home. We drove off with our deuce and into our one-bedroom apartment at Riverside Condo located in southwest DC. We thought we hit the big times. We felt like grown adults who would make any parent proud.

Dorrie was working in the Reagan administration, and I was working at the condo building where we lived, and eventually at Phillips Art Gallery in DuPont Circle. We were pretty happy. Then one day, I was out on a date with this African diplomat from Benin. I wasn’t too fond of his looks nor his personality. I was just there! Just then, a fine tall, light-skinned, thick-black-haired man approached our table and, with a very distinct accent, inquired about the food.

The diplomat immediately complemented the food. I was distracted by this man’s looks. After the African spoke, I blurted out with no filter at all, If I would had known Omar Sharif’s brother was in the house, I would have brought my autographed book. My date, of course, got upset because I was flirting with someone other than him. That date didn’t last long.

A month later, little did I know I would run into Omar Sharif look-alike again and there we were walking toward each other in the streets. Now finding out his real name was Raja. I thought about how I normally looked at a man’s spirit and energy, and he had good looks. He told. me he was from Pakistan. We immediately began dating.

He treated me like a lady. Very attentive and loving. He opened car doors, brought flowers, and pulled the chair out when we dined together. We had a lot of similarities. Neither one of us smoked, drank, or partied. I was living the life of a Christian, and he was of the Muslin faith. I just knew we both prayed every day. He prayed his way, and I prayed my way. I believed in God, and he did too. I thought that was enough to make a relationship work. l didn’t care about his religion, nor did he care about mine.

We dated for several months. Then he popped the questions. I knew he loved me and deeply cared about me. I felt the same. He made me feel so special and appreciated. I said yes. I had a huge wedding reception at the Howard Inn, which is located on the grounds of Howard University. I feel so special. We had well over one hundred guests. It was so fairy-tale wedding reception. People came from everywhere and all different nationalities—Egyptian, Afghan, Pakistani, Black and White Americans.

My husband, Raja, was tall dark and handsome. My Omar Sharif. I was so proud of him. He was my king, and I was his queen. My dad was intrigued by Raja and what his name represented. Dad told me about the name Raja. In the Hazara division of Pakistan, the name came from the descendants of Turk dynasty. These rajas ruled that part of Pakistan for decades. My dad was well-read and very intelligent to know all about