5
almost against his will, and nested inside him forever. This faith gives
him a natural understanding of his duties and responsibilities. What
people strive to understand or must force themselves to feel, he not
only caught a glimpse of it, but he also made it a part of his inner life.
I talked to Ibrâhim about this feeling. He cast down his eyes
out of shyness and answers.
Less words and more deeds is the secret of faith. When
we conceive a child, we utter a prayer. Before we dine, we say a
prayer, yes, at this moment. We even say a supplication for every
act. Bismi Allah -- In the name of Allah is the most common one. In
Islam, no deed is accepted if the five daily prayers are not completed.
In the same way, to work is offering prayer and to love too, and even
what gives us pleasure is related to a charity if it is intended rightfully.
To practice ones faith is to feel it any moment.
Ibrâhim keeps with him a few pictures of his parents; they
have tanned features but light comes from their skin. Their wide
smiles and their wide eyes are full of shine, not full of sufferings as
one could imagine from people who have lived in dear poverty most
of their lives.
I was surprised to hear from my companion that his father
never slapped his children, that he neither raised his voice against his
own people. It was common a few decades earlier to chastise
children; the education was strict. It was practiced especially at
school by the French teachers or in the Islamic school when children
did not pay attention. Discipline was emphasized but not abused.
Today, nobody touches children. Children have become the enemy;
they can send adults to court, so teachers are afraid of children.
Even hugging them looks suspicious! Even if the men had a soft
heart, full of compassion, the Arabic pride was readable in their
stature. Ibrâhim explains:
"There was a stupid quarrel between my father and my uncle.
We do mistakes because we are humans. See, nobody escapes that,
even the Prophets (Peace be upon them). Moses killed a man; Jonas
disobeyed Allah, all strayed at one point; this proves they were
humans. So, there was a dispute about the inheritance. My father
forgave his brother, but they never talked to each other. That is not
permitted in Islam, but who never did anything that was prohibited. It
was a strange story, nobody really knows about it. The mystery has
forever being concealed from our curiosity. And that is better. It is
an affair that concerns them and God alone. Now, this affair belongs
to the hereafter
"
6
He pensively rearranges the earth around the graves. His stare
becomes very focussed and piercing, maybe out of anger or out of
pain, I do not know.
"Human beings are nothing," he suddenly declares "yes, nothing."
He remembers the nobility of his grandfather, poet and scientist as
the traditional Islamic wise man. His fortune, his son had dilapidated
it, and his mother married a poor but honest and faithful shepherd.
Since then, they had lived in complete poverty, transporting their
cardboard house on the back of men around Casablanca. Only a
piece of land had remained in their possessions; and yet the territories
had been stolen by some greedy peasants. So began years of misery
lived in fear of devastating fires inside the shantytown.
Allah never abandons His servants, and provide for them, was the
only consolation they allowed themselves. For Allah's sake, they
endured and endured, were rewarded with blessed children, lawyers
and engineers. Who could have guessed?
I look more closely at their pictures. I particularly stare at Ibrâhim's
father.
2000-2001 ww.arttoday.com
He looked like a handsome man without any wrinkle at an old
age. This man wore a tiny cap on his skull since his first pilgrimage
to Meccah, since he shaved his hair with thousands of believers. He
was usually draped in a white or gray gown hiding his modesty, and
would always talk words of kindness, even to strangers as the
example of the Prophet (Peace be Upon Him.) He was a worker in
the industry. Since he had broken one wrist the first day of work, the