Standing Alone

Hotep,

My creative writing class really got interesting this week.  Not to say that it hasn’t already been interesting.  It’s more like this week’s session increased the momentum of an already fruitful experience.  Na mean?

The week prior, Dr Kuhns issued copies of an essay written by Professor Mirriam Cooke.  She holds the position of Professor of Arabic Literature, at the prestigious Duke University.  An Arabic scholar, Miriam is also a published author (“Opening the Gates: A Century of Arab Feminist Writing”) whose literary appetite led her to the sands of Egypt – where she lived abroad and studied Arabic culture. 

Her brief stint teaching Arabic in an Afghanistan prison isn’t without merit.  She’s made it her life’s purpose to engage the natural instincts of writers pushing the pens from the far eastern culture, to western civilization.

Her essay, “The Prison Memoirs of a Muslim Sister” was founded on the struggle (Jihad) of Zaynab al-Ghazali, a Muslim feminist incarcerated for conspiracy to kill and overthrow the regime of Gamal Abd al-Nasir.  Her story is written as an auto-hagiography (self written bio of a saint) within the pages of “Days From My Life.” This sister refers to her story as “a legend of torture and hardship.” Her jihad is anything but esoteric.  She and those closest to her consider her experiences to be public property, important enough that they should become instructive for others. 

After reading Professor Cooke’s essay, I was inspired to share these words with you.  It was a challenge, but I fell back until I had the opportunity to personally meet the voice behind this teaching tool.  Standing before me (I was seated in the front row) was a woman – small in stature, but bearing the heart of a titan – that once taught in an Afghanistan prison.  Living conditions – here at Central Prison – are not something that would draw the interest of a person who has witnessed confinement on the gravest of scales.  Professor Cooke’s mission became clear when she began to take questions from the class.

Listening to her dip in and out of her Arabic tongue, in the most condensed of a lecture’s setting, I wondered if the mission of Professor Cooke was somehow a beacon for my own personal struggle.  To say the least; I’m glad that our paths crossed.  Not only did my literary passion receive a mainline injection of metaphorical adrenaline, but also somehow Professor Cooke’s teachings revealed a condition of understanding to a conscious mind  - well equipped with experiences of hardship and social pariah-ism.  Sometimes standing alone is the best way to keep pace with one’s self.  Ya heard?

In July of 1997, the North Carolina death row population exceeded 200.  If I were to get any rest, it would be on a bunk bed in the midst of the dayroom.  For 18 months, whenever I was able to close my eyes, a prayer that I’d wake up in the presence of my Creator accompanied the act.  But, every day my eyes would open to the face the indomitable foe; Uncertainty.  Over time, I began to realize why I kept waking up in this realm: Life is meaningful from top to bottom, but mysterious in every direction.  Feel me?

Those many days of waking up to the clamor of a death row existence has given me the motivation to survive any indomitable presence destined to make my acquaintance.  Word is bond!

I’m sure Zaynab al-Ghazali felt the same, when she was locked away in a men’s prison (War Prison) – being tortured on the daily.  As a show of her endurance, she referred to her body, as a battlefield on which good and evil is played out.  A Wali (Muslim Saint) indeed.

Asante (thank you) Professor Cooke for seeking out my struggle.  Your teaching tool has adjusted the torque of my literary future.  That’s what’s up!!

Peace,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann