It was an unusually Spring-like, sunny afternoon -- still winter if you asked the Calendar, as my wife was making her way back from grocery shopping. We live in walking-distance to all important amenities. Places like the ones where family doctors are waiting for you, ready to tell you all about things that you do not want to hear.

There is also a mid-sized mall where you can do mall-walking if that is your preferred way of exercising; and a large No-Frills store where you can buy almost everything humans dare to consume.

On her way back, to catch her breath, my wife sat down on a side-line bench across a High School, situated on the other side of the road. Kids were playing basket ball, soccer, or just enjoying running about aimlessly.

It happened then, smoothly, out of the blue. A woman in her early fifties, dressed in an all-grey garb with compulsory Muslim decency, greeted my wife and casually settled down besides her. For the next thirty-forty minutes, she could only say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ a few times as her new acquaintance lectured her on how corrupt and rotten the Americans are. They, those rich, evil corporations, come up here and destroy Canada. “Look at Labels,” she says. “They are selling these expensive dresses, but I never buy from them. They will not make money on me. They are going out of business – the signs are all over; Allah be praised! Look at me. I do not care what others think of my underwear.

I have this mantle. It is cheap and it covers me, and it lasts long. If you come with me I take you to my congregation, we explain to you that Islam is a religion of piece. Islam means ‘peace’, and you should not think of Muslims as terrorists because we all love piece. The way you dress, I think you waste a lot of money. You will not have to by those expensive dresses anymore if you join us.”

Trying to stay relevant, my wife said, “I see what you mean.” The woman has not finished yet though.

“These stupid, old (sic!) Canadians, you know the type that was born here; they do not see what is going on. They let these evil, rich Americans come up here and spread their corrupt businesses.”

“Where are you from,” asked my wife?

“I am from Pakistan, and had to wait three years before I get my Canadian citizenship a year ago,” said the woman.

As my wife was telling me her story, a few questions surfaced in my awareness.

One: the woman was suffering the Canadian way all along for three years before she got her citizenship. This was obvious from her story. Why did she go ahead with her application to settle here in Canada if this country is so miserable? If – according to her moral standards, Pakistan is the right place for her to enjoy life, what is she doing here?

Two: How did she manage to learn so much – in a short four years span of time, about what the Americans are doing to Canada?

Three: Who is paying for the place where she lives, what she eats, and what she wears so she has all the time to educate unsuspecting Torontonians on the streets of this sinful city in this corrupt country of her new home, Canada.

Four: There was far more politics in her fanatics story than peaceful Islam. This is perhaps because some (or many?) Muslims do not make a big fuss about separating religion and politics.

Even so, what is her agenda - I mean what is the big picture? What values will she, and the like of her, contribute to Canadian society? Are we witnessing a trend here? Do we, the unenlightened, stupid Canadians, want to welcome busy-body freaks and nuts because we just love our multi-culture?

I find it unsettling how well-focused and prepared she was; the practiced fluency of the way she delivered her script, and the no-nonsense organization of this chance-meeting event. I wonder… where did she get her training?

In closing, I want to express my deep appreciation to Hon. Jason Kenney for his fine work, and ask him to sharpen those filters even more, so that our streets remain a safe way of moving about - and nothing else.