"Outside, our driver, Al Hassan, would be polishing the paint off [our Peugeot 404]. I used to watch as the little beads of sweat formed on his brow. He'd mop them off with the cloth he was using to clean the vehicle.The only thing he allowed to interrupt him was his morning prayer. He would take his mat, which he kept rolled up in the boot, and lay it out under our mango tree. Collecting some water in the empty Cow & Gate milk tin he kept specifically for the purpose, he would perform the ablutions set out in the Koran. Then he would kneel and touch his head on the mat, whispering something I could never understand.
'What are you saying?' I would ask.
'I'm talking to God,' he replied simply.
Yes, but what are you saying to Him?'
'I'm not saying anything. I'm not telling him anything. Just that I am here to serve him.'
'Don't you ask him for anything? I asked God for a new bike. Maybe you can ask him for a new car.'
'No. I just want him to keep us safe.'
Years later, as I travelled through the Muslim Sahel, I would see this ritual in progress a thousand times, perhaps at the ancient mosque in Timbuktu or in the shadow of a petrol tanker on the road to the north of Nigeria. I still cannot watch this simple act of Muslim worship without being aware of a wonderful sense of continuity. It's the absence of any ceremonial props that has always fascinated me. One man in communion with his God; no fuss, no bother. It was like that in 1966 for AlHassan; it is the same for hundreds of millions of others today.
This early and close-range familiarity with Islam is, I think, one of the reasons why I have never been tempted to accept the fanatical adherents of the religion as truly representative of the whole. In my mind Islam has always been a religion of quiet purpose and private worship; a religion that aims to help in the pursuit of personal fulfilment and communal advancement. Indeed, a religion that tries to balance the ambition required for the former with the restraint necessary to achieve the latter. Al Hassan's Islam never seemed threatening when I was a child and I refuse to feel threatened by it now."-George Alagiah, A Passage to Africa, 2001
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Two items:
1. In the documentary called 'The Pastor and the Imam' it details the struggle of two religious leaders in Nigeria to forgive each other for past violence. The Imam receives councelling from a senior imam that the teachings of their faith requires them to forgive their enemies. That was an eye opener for me.
2. Second thought - Author Brian McLaren states that the world is better off with Muslims than without.
In spite of all the atrocities committed in the name of misguided religious zeal, the force for good is overwhelming, due to people's faith. Making a difference one life at a time eh Nigel and Michal. More power to you and the work of the Mercy Ship.
George
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