The Defenders

Today, I told my class that we would be playing a game. One that required a special visitor to participate.

I had invited my friend Hassain to visit my classroom – he arrived wearing a cotton thawb and leather sandals. He had taken his taqiyah from his head and held it in his hand as he stood and faced the children.

I introduced Hassain to the class. I told the children that this man was named Hassain and that he was very much the enemy of all children, he was extremely dangerous and he was not to be trusted.

The children had never met Hassain before today but because they trusted me, they nodded to my description of him and were thankful for my warning on the man that stood before them.

They did not ask me why Hassain was the enemy and they did not ask what made him dangerous. Some simply shuffled their seats a little towards the back of the classroom.

Hassain smiled and greeted the children warmly.

I told the children Hassain was leaving now but, I told them, Hassain wished very much to come back to the classroom later and hurt them. He would try and enter the room from who knows which direction, wearing who knows what disguise and if he got into the room, much damage and pain may occur.

The children’s eyes grew wide. Some let out tiny whimpers of fear and some turned to their classmates for solace.

Hassain stood calmly in front of them, smiling a warm and gracious smile.

I asked Hassain to leave the room and wait outside the class door.

I then held out my arms to calm the increasingly scared and disturbed children.

Why did you let him go?  - asked one child urgently.
Where is he now? We cannot see him. - screamed another.

I told the children not to fear, that I could help protect them. I asked if just for today, they would swap their lunch money for a cap gun because the cap gun was the best way to stop Hassain from coming back to the class room and hurting them. The cap gun was their only chance at defence.

To a child they agreed to make the trade – their lunch money, for a small cap gun with caps.

I handed the children a cap gun each and explained the rules.

The cap gun can hurt anybody – it does not discriminate between bad people and good people and it is only to be used if you see Hassain trying to come into the classroom.

The cap gun, I told them, was never to be used on each other, under any circumstances.

It was not to be used to solve personal disputes, or to hurt other children in the class that they did not like. It was not to be used for fun or for revenge or to make other children afraid. It was not to be used to take something that did not belong to them, nor was it ever to be used to try and make people believe something they did not want to believe.

They all agreed to the rules with urgent nods of their heads. Happy now to have a defence against Hassain, the man they had just met.

I left the room and found Hassain outside the classroom door and I walked him to his car.

Hassain lives in Green Point - Brooklyn where he and his wife run a small café. We talked about the increasing cost of coffee beans.

After I farewelled Hassain, I turned and headed back towards the classroom.

I had not made it halfway back along the path when I heard a furious storm of cap gun fire ring out through the morning air.