Madinah

The people come in droves. The numbers increase each passing day but Madinah is not fazed. It welcomes all. The many faces; white, black, brown, yellow. The many languages. And yet, this is a place where none of this matters. In fact as I sit here, I can't help but think of Malcolm X’s letter from hajj:

"There were tens of thousands of pilgrims, from all over the world. They were of all colors, from blue-eyed blondes to black-skinned Africans. But we were all participating in the same ritual, displaying a spirit of unity and brotherhood that my experiences in America had led me to believe never could exist between the white and the non-white.

You may be shocked by these words coming from me. But on this pilgrimage, what I have seen, and experienced, has forced me to rearrange much of my thought patterns previously held, and to toss aside some of my previous conclusions. This was not too difficult for me. Despite my firm convictions, I have been always a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life as new experience and new knowledge unfolds it. I have always kept an open mind, which is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth.

During the past eleven days here in the Muslim world, I have eaten from the same plate, drunk from the same glass and slept in the same bed (or on the same rug)-while praying to the same God with fellow Muslims, whose eyes were the bluest of the blue, whose hair was the blondest of blond, and whose skin was the whitest of white. And in the words and in the actions and in the deeds of the ‘white' Muslims, I felt the same sincerity that I felt among the black African Muslims of Nigeria, Sudan and Ghana.

We are truly all the same-brothers.

All praise is due to Allah, the Lord of the worlds."

The hundreds and thousands of people, but still Madinah remains tranquil. The peacefulness and contentment I feel cannot be explained. I’m sitting in the courtyard, having just prayed Maghreb. The gentle hubbub of people around me and yet I could hear a pin drop amongst this crowd.

The gentle breeze continues to blow across my face. I am lost in my thoughts; in fact the thoughts in themselves are blank, empty. The birds are chirping away. They weren’t here before but I like this addition. As the prayers are led, it seems like they are praying along.

© Amy Serafina