Page 67 - AVN SEPTEMBER 2024

Landing back in California on July 4, Numi Zarah turned many an appreciative head at the airport thanks to her stunning dark-haired American/Bangladeshi heritage, but appearing glamorous was the furthest thing from her mind. After an intense half year overseas in her family’s native land, she is happy and thankful to be home and eager to get back to work—and make her harrowing experiences known.
“I want my story to be told,” she said in the first of many phone calls to this writer after settling down from her long intercontinental flight.
This isn’t the type of exposé one might expect about sleazy occurrences in the adult industry, or trafficking, or forced labor or prostitution. Rather, it’s a cautionary tale of sorts for anyone from a background steeped in extreme zealotry.
Things began with a trip to Dubai toward the beginning of this year.
“Dubai has always been my favorite place on the planet,” Zarah divulged. “I think it is incredible. It’s all man made. I’m super into art, and the architecture is insane; it’s like you are in another world.”
Supplied with a plane ticket and start-up cash, she was, or so she thought, on her way to begin a new chapter in her life.
“My flights were paid for; my luggage packed. I was told I’d get my own place with the rent paid for the first month and a card with 17K on it.”
She was excited.
“I thought I was gonna invest in myself, start a business, and get my OnlyFans back as soon as I got there,” she continued. “I have cousins there on my mom’s side that I love—I was gonna be a part of their newborn’s life. I burned everything down in L.A. so I had a chance to build it back up in Dubai.”
Once she arrived, she soon found out she’d been lured there under false pretenses.
Zarah knew that her family—her father in particular—was not supportive of her porn career. “My dad once called me a prostitute,” she recalled. “Then a little over a year goes by and we just never spoke about it. But little did I know he was plotting and planning since then.”
Her story really began when she was born in Arcadia Methodist Hospital after her parents came to California as immigrants. “I grew up my whole life in a small city on the outskirts of L.A. called Duarte,” she said. “It was mostly Hispanics and Blacks and immigrants who wanted to give their kids a better life. It was very normal to me; nobody questioned what I was—we were all different shades of brown and black. It didn’t matter. We were pretty poor, lived in a small apartment, and grew up eating a Cup of Noodles, Hot Cheetos, and my mom’s Bangali food.
“I didn’t grow up in a glamorized L.A. There were no tourists—just families trying to survive. Extremely diverse. Duarte is so small everyone knew each other. I grew up listening to ’90s hip-hop. ‘Suicidal Thoughts’ by Biggie in 6th grade was my shit. I was on the streets a lot—especially as a kid from the ages of 14 to 18—but not in a scary way. Because I had a drunk for a dad and an oppressed mother and a brother who followed my dad’s footsteps in being incredibly abusive, the streets were my family. I dated the leaders of a gang whose whole crew were my friends. This made me infamous with every female hating me for being pretty. My ex got checked by my homies for dating a ‘whore’ because they ran a train on me. But he stuck with me for three years.”
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