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In the name of teddy by Thanos Kalamidas 2007-11-30 09:47:41 |
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My daughter is a very lucky child in many ways and one of them is because she’s attending a daycare school with kids of all different languages, ethnicity and backgrounds. I have to admit that from the very first parents’ meeting I was happy with the sight of all these kids playing together, learning that they are all the same despite colour or family background. Gradually we got used to hearing of all these names in the house, since Aisha did that one day or Mohamed brought this toy and Patrick said that. If you have small kids you know well what a joy it is to listen to all of these stories and try to connect the names with the small kids and the parents you have met.
My daughter loves painting and naturally her surroundings inspire her talent, so we have a house with a big smiling sun, then we have a lot of pictures with mom and dad, dad in front of his computer, mom and dad smiling, mom and her bicycle; occasionally her paintings have a guest star, a cousin or a best friend and, as you know, kids at this age have a different best friend from one day to the other. And then one day she makes a beautiful and colourful painting with all of her best friends and she asked me to write each name under the sketch… here we have Aisha, and this is Patrick and here is Mohamed!
The next day, just like any other proud parent, I take the picture and put it on the wall behind my desk, always ready to explain what the picture is all about. Of course, my daughter is three years old and definitely not a Turner, more likely the cubic period of a painter with big round heads, eyes that one is small and the other bigger, fingers that look more like sausages and legs that go forever. A colleague of mine comes inside checks the sketch and then he asks, ‘Is this Mohamed?’ The proud father, impressed that everybody can understand that behind these shapes there is a figure, admits that this is Mohamed.
The big question now is who should get the thirty lashes and one year in prison? My three year old daughter or me, or perhaps who should be stoned to death in the central square, my daughter or I? You see, according to my fanatical and blind colleague, the picture was not a happy classroom of three year olds but, according to the Saria laws, it is an insult to Islam to attempt to make an image of the Prophet Muhammad.
You think that I exaggerate a bit, well perhaps I do, but what’s the difference between this fantastic story and the reality Mrs. Gibbons lives this moment in Sudan? By the way, have you had a look at Mrs. Gibbon pictures? They are everywhere in the media. When I first saw her picture I said without thinking, I know this woman, it is Mrs. Sofia, my school teacher. Of course she’s not Mrs. Sofia and the certain lady was my teacher something like …forty years ago but the face, the shape, the style is so familiar.
Nearly all of us had a teacher who was dreaming to teach the poor kids somewhere in Africa, in Asia or in South America. Not a missionary, just a simple teacher with a very soft soul and very romantic heart who believed that teachers can change the world. They are always full of beautiful stories and always bothering too much for the well being of the kids. Apparently they were always the ones who gave the best grades. All of us had a Mrs. Gibbons in our school years and if not us then the classroom next door teaching our siblings.
Just look at her face in all these photos and you will understand. Provoking a nation and clerics is miles away from her mind, she just never thinks like that, she only wants to teach, give the chance as she sees it, to share her knowledge. And yes Mrs. Gibbons had other motives to be there as well, a recent divorce after a very long marriage, the feeling that the kids had gone to live their own lives, a bit of adventure and of course some extra money. Escapism, that’s the word, the woman wanted to escape for a bit and, at the same time, do make her teaching dream come true. Does anybody think that this woman went there having an agenda to make wild all the fanatics especially living in the times we do?
And then in her classroom there is one kid who is the dude, the coolest of all. All girls love him, all the girls want to hold hands with him and when it comes the time and after they rejected all the silly names for the nameless teddy they decided – and it was all the girls united – that the teddy should get the name of the cute boy! Mohamed! At the same time the school secretary who thinks that if she collects infidel heads on her belt she will go to paradise reports the event to the local fanatics, ‘the infidel calls a teddy …Mohamed, the name of the prophet.’ The rest you have read in the papers over the last few days.
These are the facts, so what remains is to see if the official state, the Muslim leaders and the followers of what suppose to be a faith of love, peace and brotherhood in Sudan, are going to practice the same tolerance they demand from the rest of the world. I’m really sorry to say that but the way it has been publicized from the same exactly people it will be a test for Muslims all around the world.
P.S. Something I’ve read in a blog today: Rumors have it that the teddy has already been stoned or beheaded.
Sudan Islam Religion Education |
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