Aisha narrates: Yesterday I wrote upon a wall: Mary was a virgin in white chalk, The prophetess had announced her coming, I merely heard and obeyed. A man then accosted me, he said: Do you always go around writing on peoples walls? It was beside a busy main road, a red brick wall, what Id written was neither garish nor ugly, but discrete. He was furious. It wasnt his wall! Indisputably my words there were true. Mary was in fact a virgin. I had written on a wall one month earlier: An angel is a this, a djinn is a that. Peace. Then I embellished it with some words in Arabic, words of Peace. Then I was so embarrassed by my blasphemy I wrote over each word in black so as to obscure it. The statement to my mind was simply algebra, I confessed and I picked up some litter. Then I went to pray, and so I must tell you what happened prior to my writing on the wall. I was singing softly at 1am on an empty street when a man approached me, he found me sweet, dressed in hijab and singing: la ilaha ilallah (God is One). This man said: God bless, Jesus loves you I smiled and said peace then I wondered up the street... But this man decided he wasnt done with me yet. He grabbed me, I hit him, I confess, he left. Then it came to me... A djinn is a that and an angel is a this, and what I love most is Sharia, the law of consent. She is Most Fair. I wrote an angel is a this, a djinn is a that, this day is our Eid, peace, (on the wall of Paddy Power with a pen I found, then picked up some litter.) Then I found a discrete place to pray on this empty street, facing whichever way (north in this case) behind a white van. During my third rakat some police gathered round me, I was too deep in prayer to pay them much attention to them, in truth I barely noticed. I pray as Allah has allowed me this, woe on me to bow to the uniformed guards whilst I pray forgiveness from Him, well into the night. It was after 1am. Eventually I stood up and walked, a man grabbed me, again from behind, I hit him, I confess, and then they beat me, tore my hijab from me, three men were on my back, my hands cuffed and cut, my face against the concrete, I cried: Peace! Peace! Peace! I told them my name was Yahya without a surname, yet they wrote it as Yahya Love as after I had cried for peace and then mercy, exasperated I beseeched: Love! My hijab was gone for three days, I was kept in a cell without natural light, they didnt say what would happen to me. I was very very frightened from my beating, they didnt make it clear what I was there for... In truth I barely remembered that I had graffitid... I remember it now having seen the film shown as evidence. It shows they grabbed me first, from behind and I hit him. There was not a warning from the man in uniform, they lied on record, perhaps a keen eye could tell from the video. Anyhow, due to Mosaic Law, I have inherited Palestine. The judge said, no harm done, and fined me £20. Following this, my mother said: You gave birth to yourself. My best friend said: I will throw you to the cold, homeless, without mercy. My carer called me the devil and shouted at me until I left for a shelter. Then the revelations began. Peace
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 11:39:15 +0000
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