The Redemption of Sidi Ibrahim Dimson, Part 7

بِسۡمِ ٱللهِ ٱلرَّحۡمَـٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ 

The following is the spiritual journey of our Tijani brother, Sidi Ibrahim Dimson.  The story was written by him.  I have only formatted it and edited the language where necessary.  The spelling of the names have been left as Sidi Ibrahim Dimson spelled it.  The style of the writing has been left largely intact to preserve its flavour. 

“Everything I learned about the Salafi movement would benefit me later in life.  I understood what the movement was all about and I understood why it appealed to the violent side of people.  This understanding would prove very useful later in life as I was confronted with the same situation.  I just wish I could tell you that my meetings with other Salafis at other prisons was as good.  It was not.  I thank Allah (s.w.t.) for Giving me guides on His Path every step of the way.  Hasbun Allahu wa Ni’ma al-Wakil. 

My original intention was to move on without going into detail about my experience in Philadelphia Federal Detention Center, but after thinking about it, I have decided to talk a bit about my experience there with our Salafi brethren.  This experience has forever changed my life because above all, I was afforded an opportunity to really learn about this ever-growing movement called Salafism. 

Abu Dharr al-Salafi was so revered by his codefendants and brothers in my cell block that, they all bowed to his opinion and instructions to treat me as a brother and to learn from me.  There were a few hard liners that still treated me with mistrust and skepticism, but it was cool overall.  Everyone knew that I was a Sufi adherent, and they had been taught as part of their ‘aqidah that Sufism and thariqa’ were bad and to be avoided like a disease.  They had been taught that in most cases, Sufis were all guilty of shirk.  And sad enough, they had been taught that it was permissible to mistreat, rob and, in some cases, even kill Sufis.  I am sure some of you think this is a generalisation on my part, but it is, in fact, one of the core and fundamental principles of the entire movement. 

Anyway, I had to seek guidance as to how to proceed.  Allah (s.w.t.) was definitely up to something quite amazing, but it scared me.  It was synonymous to a bunch of pit bulls surrendering to a bunny rabbit.  I needed guidance, I needed idzn; so I called Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) again, but as before, I was told that he had traveled somewhere overseas.  So, I reached back out to my beloved teacher, Shaykh Jibril Madaha (q.s.). 

Shaykh Madaha (q.s.) picked up the phone.  ‘as-Salaamu’Alaykum?’ 

‘Wa Alaykum as-Salaam, Malam, how are you?  It’s Ibrahim Dimson.’ 

‘My son, how are you?  Have you been doing the prayer that Sayyidah Ruqayyah Niasse gave you?’ 

‘Yes, Malam.  Allah is Merciful.  I’m no longer in danger.’ 

‘al-Hamdulillah.  Never abandon that prayer, Ibrahim.  It will keep you safe under all circumstances.’ 

‘Okay, shaykh.  But now, the same people that wanted to kill me, now want me to teach them about Islam.  I don’t know how to proceed; I’m confused.’ 

Shaykh Madaha (q.s.) began to laugh at me.  Then he said, ‘That prayer has saved Ibrahim from the Fire again, I see!  Don’t worry, Ibrahim.  Don’t be confused or afraid.  Teach them about the reality of Islam.  No need to teach them about Thariqa’ Tijaniyyah.  Teach them about Thariqa’ Muhammadiyyah.’ 

‘I don’t understand.’ 

Shaykh Madaha (q.s.) said, ‘Thariqa’ Tijaniyyah is, in reality, Thariqa’ Muhammadiyyah and Thariqa Muhamadiyyah is, in reality, the real Islam, and the real Islam is nothing more than good manners and respect towards the Creator and Creation.  Teach them how to be good, Ibrahim.  Teach them adab.’ 

‘Okay.’ 

Shaykh Madaha (q.s.) prayed, ‘May Allah (s.w.t.) Help you and Guide them through you.  You have full permission to teach them, Ibrahim.  Do well.  as-Salaamu’Alaykum.’ 

‘Wa ‘Alaykum as-Salaam, shaykh.  Thank you.’ 

The way he simplified things for me was a blessing.  It eased my fears and calmed my worries.  The first thing I sought to do was teach them how to properly read and recite the Qur’an.  They appreciated learning how to properly recite the Book of God.  I truly believe that, above all, was what really softened their hearts towards me.  As I taught them how to read and recite, I would also explain certain verses to them, as was explained to me by my father, who in turn learned the explanation from Shaykh Ibrahim Niasse (q.s.). 

The brothers began to flock to my cell at all times of the day, to talk with me about Islam.  It was during these informal settings that I taught them the importance of adab.  Adab, from a Sufi perspective, means the good manners, good thoughts and respect for God, for mankind and for yourself.  It is the fruit of the tree of Islam.  Ihsan was the branch that this fruit grows from.  And the understanding basically has a deep reality that essentially trains the person to love and respect everything.  Because everything is connected, everything comes from One, everything has a special and secret quality that must be known and treated according to that knowledge.  This was the Thariqa’ Muhamadiyyah, the Path of Muhammad (s.a.w.). 

When I was not teaching the Qur’an or answering questions or talking about adab, I was learning as much as possible about Salafism.  Talib was my teacher in this.  I thought it only fair that I have a good, sound knowledge of the founders and history of Salafism.  I learned that Salafis respected and revered two men above all: Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahab and his friend, ibn Sa’ud.  I will not recount the entire history of the Wahhabi movement here, but what I will say is that I understood better why they hated Sufis and what made them so violent.  I learned that Saudi Arabia use to be called only Arabia.  I learned that the Ottomans were the khulafah of the Islamic world until ibn as-Sa’ud joined forces with the British to overthrow their fellow Muslim brothers the Ottomans.  I learned that, in the process, traditional Islam and its sciences were disavowed by ibn Sa’ud and his shaykh, ibn ‘Abd al-Wahab and it was all replaced with their brand and interpretation of Islam.  I learned that the Sufis were blamed by the Wahhabis for what they believed was corruption in the religion.  Religious verdicts were created that basically made it legal to destroy all Sufi cemeteries, and graves of prophets and saints.  This verdict also allowed for the murder, confiscation of property and abuse of Sufis and Shi’ites. 

The religion was under attack ideologically, spiritually and physically.  A ‘renewed’ Islam was being forced down the throat of Muslims by its self-proclaimed mujaddid, reviver, Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahab.  The Muslim world was experiencing forced conversion from traditional and peaceful Islam, to a new ‘Islam’ that had violence as its modus operandi.  I learned that Wahhabism had many names: Salafism, Izala, Boko Haram and many others, and was the ideological spearhead of most of the extremist and terrorist movements to date.  The majority of Muslims that follow this way, all love and revere Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab and ibn as-Sa’ud. 

It was a sobering lesson in Islamic history.  But it made me understand better, why my fellow inner-city young African-American brothers were so attracted to this particular brand of Islam.  You see, it never removed gangsterism from their lives.  It continued to allow them to set trip.  It continued to allow them to identify their enemies because their enemies did not grow long beards or did not cut their pants to the ankles.  Basically, the brothers replaced their gangster affiliations with one huge global gang.  And the natural enemy was Sufism, which preached the polar-opposite of what they were preaching.  The Sufi Islamic methodology is infused with spirituality and goodness and the striving towards excellence.  It has, at its core, tolerance and respect for Muslims and non-Muslims.  It is, and will always remain, the natural enemy of Wahhabism. 

Please remember that everything I have posted here is based on my own research and opinion.  It is not meant to offend.  I am simply giving you all a glimpse of what has become one of the most important things to me.  Learning about Wahhabism has created in me the yearning to truly work for God and His Messenger (s.a.w.) and the fundamental message of love.  But at the time, I did not know exactly how that work would be performed.  I knew that what was going on between myself and the Salafi brothers in Philadelphia Federal Detention Center was a rarity.  Indeed, my experiences with Salafis after that has been very different.  I understood them and they hated me more intensely because of that. 

After several months, I was transferred to Fort Dix Federal Prison.  It is the biggest Federal Prison Complex in the United States and my brief stay there was very interesting to say the least.  Despite having been to jail before, I had never actually been to a real prison.  All of the places I had been were detention centers, not actual prisons.  You see, a detention center is where people stay when arrested and undergoing the trial process.  Once you are sentenced, you get moved to an actual prison.  The severity of your crime sometimes dictates what level of prison a person is sent to. 

Fort Dix Federal Correctional Institution (FCI) was located in New Jersey, about 40 miles from Philadelphia.  It is a huge complex that houses almost 5,000 inmates.  It actually houses the most inmates out of all the other Federal Prisons in the United States.  I will never forget the first day I stepped onto the prison grounds.  I was expecting huge walls and lots of bars and stuff; you know, the way prison looks on TV.  It could not have been more different.  The institution was built more like an inner-city housing-project or apartment complex.  It is a huge neighbourhood with buildings that are used for housing inmates, a dining-hall, a gymnasium and a prison work factory.  It was one big plantation with 5,000 inmates and maybe 50 guards.  It is the most unique institution in the whole country because it houses large groups of every nationality.  There were Africans, Asians, South Americans, Europeans and Americans.  Every group comprised of several hundred members.  There were also divisions based on the part of the state that we were from.  So, New Yorkers had a crew, Philadelphia, Virginia, Washington D.C., California, Detroit and every other state had crews.  The next grouping was that of the gangs: Bloods, Crips, Vice Lords, Latin Kings, Niettas, MS, TRG, PowRule and dozens of other gangs.  Finally, there were the religious gangs: Muslims, Christians, Catholics, Jews, Nation of Islam, 5 Percenters, Hebrew Israelites, Wiccan and a few others.  And yes, I did say ‘religious gangs’.  Every person there is affiliated with one of the many groups, and sometimes more than one.  It is a microcosm of the world as we know it. 

Everything went down at Fort Dix.  Every type of criminal in existence was at Fort Dix; murderers, thieves, rapists, fraudsters, child-molesters, financial crooks, ex-mayors, ex-governors and even ex-presidents of foreign countries.  Everyone was fighting to survive the horrors and misery of prison life.  Everyone was clinging to some hope of one day becoming a free man again.  Most importantly, everyone was about some business.  My business was gaining closeness to God and staying alive. 

My existence there was inevitably dictated by my religious affiliation.  For the first few weeks, I tried to keep as much to myself as possible.  I wanted to mind my own business and not get into any problems with the Muslims there.  But that did not last long at all.  The Muslims there were the biggest gang in the facility.  They had over 1,000 members.  They were the largest and deadliest group.  When I found this out, it sickened me.  I did not want to be bothered by the religious bickering I had previously experienced. 

As expected, a few weeks after my arrival there, I was approached by a delegation of Muslims.  They were Salafi.  I told them that I was not interested in joining their group and just wanted to be left alone.  They backed off.  Soon after, another group approached me.  This was a group that identified themselves as Ahl as-Sunnah wa al-Jama’ah.  This group were followers of the four traditional schools of Islamic jurisprudence.  They were the avowed enemies of the Salafi group.  I was very cordial to them, but told them that I was a simple Muslim and wanted to be left alone.  After them, I was approached by the Shi’ites.  I told them the same thing I told the others.  Finally, I was approached by the inmate imam himself.  He was a big guy with a beautiful smile and slight accent.  His name was Abdul Ghani.  He was a very nice and courteous man.  With him was a brother named Eman.  The two of them commanded a great deal of respect from everyone at the institution.  They had each been in prison for over 20 years.  I expected another pitch to join whatever group they were affiliated with, but they simply introduced themselves to me and asked me simple questions about where I was from.  They brought with them two big bags of food and toiletries.  They welcomed me and told me that I could come to them for anything.  I felt very comfortable with them and assured them that I would.  It seemed as if they wanted to ask me something but for some reason I felt like they were holding back.  I was still skeptical about their intentions and did not plan on reaching out to them or anyone of the other Muslim groups that approached me earlier. 

It was my custom to perform my prayers in a small empty room in the unit that I lived in.  I would hide myself there and perform my obligatory prayers and my daily wird and wazhifah.  I did not have prayer beads, so I tore a piece of my bed linen, tied 100 knots in it and used that as my counter for my dzikr.  I avoided praying in congregation with the other brothers, and I stayed away from the Friday prayers.  It was the one time of the week that all of the Muslims, no matter what faction, came together to perform the obligatory prayer. 

One day, about a week after I was visited by Abdul Ghani and Eman, I went to my ‘hide-out’ to perform maghrib.  As I began the prayer, someone entered the room and stood behind me as I prayed.  I was incredibly uneasy.  Damn, could it be one of the fanatics come to try and stab me again?  Was it a corrections officer?  Was it some pervert watching me as I prayed?  I resisted the urge to turn around.  I left it to God, and focused on my prayer.  When I finished, I turned to see who it was and to my surprise, it was Abdul Ghani and Eman.  They had joined me in the prayer.  I said nothing and continued with my supplications.  When I was done, I shook their hands and got up to leave.  Normally, I would sit there and perform my wazhifah but I did not feel like answering any questions about what I was doing. 

They just sat there, looking at me with an expression of sadness and expectation, waiting.  I ignored their looks and left the room.  It baffled me as to how they found me and why they chose to pray with me.  Abdul Ghani usually led the prayers in the chapel with almost 200 other brothers.  So why was he doing praying behind me in my hide-out?  Anyway, that night, I could not sleep.  I tossed and turned restlessly, thinking about what had happened earlier.  I finally fell asleep.  The dream came to me almost immediately.  I was walking by the prison chapel on my way to the dinning-hall, when I heard a sound that was so shocking to me, that it made me pause.  I could not move.  I could only stand there and listen to the sound of people performing the Tijani wazhifah.  I had not heard the congregational wazhifah in so long that it shocked me into stillness.  What was even more alarming, was the fact that it was happening in the prison chapel.  All I could do was walk into the chapel to investigate. 

As I entered, I saw my shaykh, Shaykh Hassan Cisse (q.s.) sitting there, with a bunch of people that I did not know.  These people were much bigger than your average person.  In fact, as I continued to look at them and my shaykh in amazement, I began to realise that the people performing the wazhifah with him were not ‘people’.  They were huge!  I mean, they looked like giants!  All of them.  It may seem funny to some of you but the best description I could give to describe these ‘people’ is that they all looked like Shrek.  I was totally amazed!  My attention went to Shaykh Hassan (q.s.).  He was leading the dzikr.  He motioned for me to come and join.  I hurried over to him and sat right next to him in the circle.  The sound coming from the Shrek-like people was the most beautiful I have ever heard.  I was mesmerised.  As we finished, Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) turned to me and greeted me warmly.  He asked about my well-being.  I told him I was fine. 

Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) said, ‘I wanted to come and perform the wazhifah with you here because I’ve been traveling, and I know that you’ve been looking for me.’ 

‘Thank you so much, Shaykh.’ 

‘I sent two of my people to bring you to me, but they said you refused to come.’ 

‘Nobody came to me, Shaykh.’ 

‘Abdul Ghani and Eman didn’t come to you?’  I was struck speechless.  Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) continued, ‘They are your brothers, Baye.  Perform the dzikr with them, okay?’ 

‘Yes, Shaykh.  But I didn’t know.’ 

‘It’s okay.  Just help them, okay?’ 

‘Okay, I’m sorry, Shaykh.’ 

‘No problem.  Help them and teach them.  You must also learn what they have to teach you.’ 

‘What are they going to teach me, Shaykh?’ 

‘They will teach you the language of the external scholars.’ 

‘External scholars?’ 

‘You’ll understand soon.’ 

‘Okay.’ 

Pointing at the group that we were sitting with, Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) said, ‘These are your brothers too.  They are always with you, Baye.’  He looked at me and smiled. And then I woke up. 

What a strange dream.  I had never had such a weird dream with Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) in it; the crazy looking creatures whom he called my brothers, and him mentioning ‘Abd al-Ghani and Iman, and them teaching me the knowledge of the ‘external scholars’.  It was all very strange.  I wrote it all off as meaningless.  Normally, I would try to call Shaykh Hassan (q.s.) to get some clarity, but I decided to just forget about it. 

That evening I went to my private prayer room to perform the maghrib prayer.  As before, I felt people enter the room as I prayed.  When I finished praying and turned to look, I saw that it was Abdul Ghani and Eman again.  They sat there and stared at me, like before.  I shook their hands and began to leave but something stopped me.  It was the thought of the dream that I had the night before.  I decided to take a chance.  I sat back down facing them.  I pulled out my prayer counter made from torn linen and began the wazhifah.  The two of them smiled at each-other and joined in.  To my astonishment, they both knew the entire dzikr. 

Afterwards, the imam told me that he was actually originally from Nigeria and had been incarcerated for drug trafficking.  He had been locked up for 21 years.  He said that his father was a Tijani and that he dreamt of me a year ago.  He said, he actually saw me in the dream and that his father was telling him to look out for my arrival.  He said that his father described me as one of Shaykh Ibrahim Niasse’ (q.s.) students.   I was speechless.  Brother Eman told me that he was a Shadzili and that Abdul Ghani was his teacher and closest friend.  He knew Swalawat al-Fatih, and wanted to perform the dzikr in congregation for the first time. 

These two brothers became my closest friends.  I taught them about thariqa’ and we did wazhifah together daily.  In turn, they taught me the knowledge of the ‘external scholars’.  They taught me everything I needed to know about fiqh and ‘aqidah.  I became a minor expert in the fiqh of the four schools as well as the Ash’ari and Maturidi schools of ‘aqidah.  You see, in prison, all we had was time.  So, we used it to learn the things that were most important to us.  I learned about the history of Islam and development of its scholarly traditions: fiqh, ‘aqidah and many others.  This knowledge would become my shield against future encounters with Muslims that were totally against me and what I stood for.  This knowledge would also help me better understand my own thariqa’ and the importance of our method of knowing God.”