THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP

In my journey from going from one prison to the next, I made bonds with men that have impacted my life in great ways. I'm thinking about this from a day room, while a few of my friends have made it beyond these gates and barbed wire.

One of them is named Rah, whom I consider my little brother. He and I met on Augusta...after a man attacked him with a shank. He survived, but walked out of segregation with the trauma of the attack still lingering. I didn't know any of what occurred, but when he entered our cell, his thoughts were like this: "I'm not letting anybody disrespect me!" He even laced his shoestrings tight. I smiled warmly, which, unbeknownst to me, disarmed him as I introduced myself. This was a man with nearly two years left on his sentence, being housed with a man with multiple life sentences. As he and I became acquainted, one of our mutual friends from New York (where we all were from) made our bond develop even faster.

The amazing thing was that Rah needed an ear to share his struggles with. Me being me, I recognized the call for help, and I gave my all. So much so that we began calling our nightly chats a podcast; each day we would discuss a different subject from family, education, love, sports, movies and music. All were about us growing beyond these walls of shame (prison).

I recalled the day we were on lockdown and getting our cell shook down for contraband. The sergeant who searched our cell saw something wrong with Rah's television. So, he decided to confiscate it. Rah tried talking with sense to the sergeant, but no matter what was said, Rah wasn't getting that television back. Anger blossomed like an out-of-control fire. Both men were in each other's face, but Rah, in handcuffs, was in a losing battle. Me being the sensible one shoved Rah into the cell and kept him behind me, being apologetic to the sergeant, who would have loved to take him to segregation.

Moments like that were what allowed us to grow closer. I utilized my decades of loss and regret, sharing with Rah that he always had options. The kind that would allow him to avoid a prison cell once out in the free world...but it started when he chose to be the man he needed.

We opened up about our shortcomings more and more, but what I loved most about Rah was that he wasn't afraid to speak up. That's why I smiled when I saw his faith take hold of his life. A practicing Muslim who always spoke about Islam when he woke up. I always sat silent as he made Salat. His discipline as a practicing Muslim showed me someone who wanted to be more than what he currently was.

What also helped was that he was a parent of two amazing boys. He wanted to become an example for them to follow. That's why it took him taking a hard look at his issues and confronting them with new eyes. Again, the past was what led him to me. The new outlook would keep him out in society, growing into the man he expected of himself.

Now, as someone who dwelt in a prison for decades, when it's time to become what you desired, test would come. The one that did for Rah was when a mutual friend of ours was in the midst of a prison free-for-all. Rah was out there, while I was in our cell, relaxing. He came for me and said, "Kevin is fighting." Now, for context, I want you to imagine T.D. Jakes rumbling at a church event. It's not possible, so too hear Kevin's name--and fighting in the same sentence, we ran out to the melee. Think of chaos during a riot in New York. Our heads were on a swivel, but I slowed things down and thought about what I'm in the middle of: throwing my life away. Rah recognized the same, so we took a step back, only for the booth officer to close all the cells. Correction Officers stormed the unit, trying to regain order as mop handles cracked heads. One of the COs cursed Rah to his face, barking at him to return to his cell. The blatant disrespect would cause any to lash out, but Rah looked the CO in the eye and told him not to talk to him like that. The CO changed his tone and we headed into our cells.

That chaotic scene allowed us to think more about getting free than staying in this insanity. It helped Rah see he was more than his surroundings, and that had him signing up for programs like Thinking For A Change. It also had him and I coming together and collaborating on a trilogy titled Moving Weight. An urban story we shaped around his life...stretching the drama for book sales. It all showed that he was thinking about his future more, and that's when he began studying for his Commercial Driver's License (CDL).

My little brother even found the love of a woman from New Zealand. They would speak for hours on the phone, then he would get all giggles and smiles when he shared that she was an incredible woman--one who was of Muslim faith. That sealed it for him, especially when they would study together on the phone about Allah.

The day we parted from each other, we choked up. It was one year, maybe less, but in that time, I watched a man become a grown man. He knew, as I that nothing would stop him from becoming a father to his children, a son and brother his family would be proud of, and a husband to the blessing he called his Queen. Me, I'm proud that he and I came into each other's lives, because he made me recognize that I'm someone I could be proud of too...even after my tragic past that led me to a cell.

Rah's been home for nearly a year. He's working. He has his own home, and his children love him so much. We speak frequently, and what made me cry (which he doesn't know) was when he had a bad day. He said I told him this: "When I was feeling down and struggling, I heard your voice saying you're stronger than this moment." Man, that made me know how much he loved me, and utilized my words of strength to get him through his problems.

My little brother Rah...man, I love you and I'm proud of you, always. Always Rah. Always.