Wish You Had A Get Out Jail Free Card?

Have you ever gone from having a great week to having a horrible and stressful week in the matter of moments? Well on Monday, March 23, 2009 my great week took a turn for the worst.

Feeling rejuvenated from an exciting spring break in Los Angeles, California with my father, I made my way down the winding hot roads of Houston, Texas.

I had just left from my brother in the cause of Allah, who picked me up from the airport. We enjoyed a mouth watering, California style, Blueberry-cheese pie from the Salaam West Restaurant that I smuggled back from LA.

I was so excited to see my brother. We are truly a reflection of each other in so many ways. While he took me to my parked car, we discussed our plans on building this nation. This was a topic we could never exhaust.

Man, I was so happy to be back in Houston.

As I made my way down the road heading toward my apartment, I could only think about getting to my bed as soon as possible. I was so tired from my travels and wanted to rest up for my Men's Class that I attended at the mosque on Monday nights. When the gates to my apartment complex were in sight, and I was only a hot shower away from slipping in a peaceful slumber, I caught a glimpse of red and blue flashing lights in the rearview mirror.

Well, I have a question for (YOU) the reader. Be honest. Is it usually your fault when you get pulled over by the police?

I pulled to the side of the road and the officer came to my window and said I was going over the speed limit. A billion thoughts ran through my head. “Was I speeding? I thought I was going with the flow of traffic…” Maybe I was too excited to be this close to home, knowing I would finally be able to rest in my own bed. Maybe the officer was just behind on his quota and was trying to catch up at my expense before the month end. I’m leaning toward the latter, but you be the judge…

Everyone has or will one day get pulled over by the police so this is the gravy part. The officer told me I had warrants (that I knew nothing about) and would have to take care of them now. Not now, but right now. I was handcuffed and thrown into the raggedy plastic backseat and a foul smelling cop car. The cop made sure the front seat pressed against my knees the entire ride in. Not prepared mentally, spiritually, and/or physically for this condition, all I could think about was that serene view of the front gates of my apartment building. I dropped my head and let out a heavy sigh… I was almost home.

It was about 2:00pm CST when I had been completely searched and sat in a waiting room with five long hours before I would be taken to the real jail. I had nothing to do but to reflect on what just happened and what was to come. The waiting was driving me insane. The tick of the seconds hand on the clock became louder and louder in my head and disrupted my thoughts. I was a college student in this hell of a state with no family and only a handful of people to call to assist me.

A little after 7:00pm, the guard came. I was taken to be searched again, put back into handcuffs, and thrown into a van with two other individuals to be taken to the Southeast jail. My feet thumped against the steel plates on the floor of the van as we bounced down the road in pitch black silence. I tried to catch glimpses of the faces of the other men as little slits of light would slip in from the outside.

A short period later we reach the jail. I was searched again, they took my pictures and I was directed to a cell by my last name (A-L) to the left and (M-Z) to the right. At this point I thanked almighty God (Allah) for the teachings of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad on How To Eat To Live. It came into effect more than I would have ever bargained for. They served runny oatmeal, Bologna sandwiches, artificial drinks and other more pork items. I didn’t eat…

I didn’t want to be sick for days, rushing to the restroom that is out in the open for everyone to see, having to smell the odor while locked up in a cramped cell. There was NO clock on the wall and I found myself trying to track the time. The television, when it was on, was the only way I could tell the time. I estimated by which programs would come on what time of day it was on the outside. I felt so unproductive, so useless, the absolute opposite of the Black man’s nature. I ran through my head a million things I needed to get taken care of when I got out. I was so bothered by having to just sit. I confirmed in my head more than ever that I needed to take responsibility to build my community, my Nation.

I sat and waited. Most people in there would tell you that they didn’t know why they are locked up. Most did not learn the reason until they spoke with the judge via telephone conference call. When it was my turn they asked for me to plead my case. "GUILTY, NOT GUILTY". The decision you give at that time is very crucial. If one says guilty, then one must sit out the remaining time of the charges. If one says not guilty, then one must wait to be put on trial and hope that the police officer(s) does not show up to prove they are guilty which would result in them still having to wait out the time.

The craziest and most frustrating part that I realized is that the guards have complete access to your files. Depending on their mood, they may or may not do any filing on their shift. This means if they do not file any of the documents, then the your file have to fall into the next shifts work and maybe even the next shift after that. I guess you can see where I am going with this.

PLEASE, I mean PLEASE, do not upset the guards because they will lose your files on purpose and some of them are even bold enough to tell you it too. "Yeah I lost your file, what can you do about it?"

When seeing the condition of my people, and the whole of humanity that suffers from this on daily basis, it frustrates me and reminds me of the Biblical Sodom and Gomorrah. STRAIGHT SAVAGE! The stench that you get from being in there is unforgettable.

The moral of this story is basic; Accept Responsibility. If you have any tickets, take care of them. Do not allow them to continue to rise. You don’t want to find yourself sitting in a room wishing you would had made better decisions in your life. To the ones that have never had to encounter this situation, I am proud of you. Remember the ones before you, and some even after you, will have to go through this experience. Just ask a friend.

"Surely Allah changes not the condition of a people, until they change their own condition."
HQ 13:11

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading my story and Blogging with Brother Hannibal