بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved and Beautiful Asiatic Black Umma!

I am back in Malibu and enjoying every minute of it.

The Sheriff’s gaffled me up and you will not believe what type of strange and unusual torture is going on behind the scenes of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department.

I, of course, have and always will be a POLITICAL PRISONER, but this time I felt like a PRISONER OF WAR – One degree away from a CASUALTY.

First, let me inform you that we have a new sheriff. His name is Villanueva, which is Spanish for “New City,” and he definitely is doing some new “ish!”

He has come under fire lately for re-hiring some deputies who had been fired for misconduct, also the “gangs” that are active within the department, and I can bear witness to the “tattoos” that they do not try to hide.

Personally, I think anyone who joins the police department or sheriff’s or military, has some sort of mental problem – a thirst for blood – to be specific.

What I went through was so torturous that it is difficult to relate, but for the sake of my Brothers and Sisters who suffer the same ordeal, I will elaborate.

I went to court and was sentenced to 180 days.

Obviously, I did not do that time.

When I arrived at the women’s jail, they had me sit there OVERNIGHT.

I was hoping they would just release me.

On the contrary, they processed everyone else and I was still sitting there the next morning when the ones who had court dates were leaving on their designated buses.

Finally, they took me into the change out room.

I think I may have a little bit more shame when it comes to undressing than most people. But the conditions are barbaric.

In New Orleans, they have the common decency to give us our own “stall,” where we can change in private. Not so, in the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department.

There is one big room and every one has to undress completely, one article at at time,  place each item into a storage bag, until we are all standing there stark naked, and then we are given our uniforms. It is very humiliating to say the least.

This instance, I was singled out, and the entire procedure was videotaped.

I was not surprised because Our Beloved Messenger, The Most Honourable Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him) warned us that The Bible prophesies that this wicked government keeps a record of her own evil doings.

Each unjust court proceeding is recorded in her own book.

So, I had my Holy Qur’an and my Journal, but before I was able to hand them over to the deputies, I was attacked, brutally handcuffed, thrown to the floor and my clothes were forcibly removed, cut completely through and through and as if that wasn’t evil enough, I watched helplessly from my position on the floor, in horror, as one deputy, right in front of me, ripped my beautiful M.G.T. uniform into shreds. PURE HATE.

For no reason, other than I am a RIGHTEOUS MUSLIM, and will be buried in my M.G.T. GARMENT, In sha Allah. They hate the Righteous just because we are righteous. They also wear uniforms, and are fully aware of their importance. And they were determined to prevent me from leaving in my HOLY GARMENTS.

They then proceeded to wrap my legs in a mermaid type of restraint, with everything wrapped so tight, I could not move, and the only thing exposed were my feet and my derriere’.

The only thing this contraption could possibly be used for is anal rape.

I drew a picture in my journal, which was the only way I could get over such an ordeal. I could not put it into words at the time.

There were handles on the sides which the deputies used to transport me to my cell.

I honestly believe the only reason I was respited from being anally raped is the fact that I insisted on them giving me the head covering we agreed upon before my intake.

I don’t think I am going to post the picture in the interest of good taste, and thank Allah for sparing me from such brutality and pray they have not used it on any of my Brothers nor Sisters held in this devils’ captivity.

I was transported to the Suicide unit and given a “suicide dress” that was so used that the velcro did not work and I had to hold it up to cover my nakedness.

I have no idea how long I was in there, but my requests for decent clothing were ignored.

Eventually, EMTs arrived and I was taken to Harbor UCLA Medical Center’s jail unit.

Why did one of the techs bring in a newspaper and I read about the serial murderer who had recently been apprehended?

There was a picture of the suspect and when I looked up from the article, I looked right into the face of the same man, who had grown his hair out and grew a beard.

I was going to inform this Brother who was Pac’s doppelganger, and he was kind of sweet on me, but it did not seem appropriate. I was the one who should have been worried since all of his victims were beautiful young women. 🙂

But his weapon was always a knife, and we could not even use ink pens, so I knew I had nothing to worry about.

So, again, they tried to commit me. This is the second time.

I NEED the Sun. I was on the top floor, but they put awnings over the windows so I only got a tiny right triangle of sunshine every day around lunchtime. The rest of the day I was in misery.

When I lived in New Orleans, I noticed that plants would grow all over a house until it could barely be seen. But let them enter.

They die.

So, when they told me I would be leaving on Monday (this was on a Wednesday), I began to prepare myself mentally.

My doctor (Doc Holliday) was uber cool. He used to be a drummer and was very easy to talk to.

They use us as guinea pigs a lot – sending in 3 interns, 2 med nurse, psychiatrists, lab technicians, and 20 other people, who all ask the same three questions,

“How did you sleep?”

“Do you feel like hurting yourself or anyone else?”

“Are you hearing or seeing anything I can’t hear or see?”

“Do you feel suicidal?”

So, after the doctor left, I just ignored everybody else.

But the reason I was so worried was because I had only seen one person leave the entire time I was there and she left on a stretcher, probably to another unit or back to jail.

However, there was a Sister there when I got there, who left. And, I did not see her leave. So, despite the fact, that two different people had announced and made preparations for leaving weeks before and were still there when I was given the green light, I maintained.

Monday arrived and my new doctor came. (Doc Holliday was transferred for some unknown reason). He assured me that I would be released before Lunch. I was ecstatic.

But, I knew not to celebrate until I was again walking in the Sun.

Sure enough, the nurses started tripping – all from Africa. So annoying.

All of the Black patients were up from slavery though.

So many companies will only hire Black foreigners, to fill their Black quota.

Even the California African American Museum only has foreign born Black employees. It is nauseating.

So, I came up with a slogan. Feel free to run with it.

Anyway, Lunch came and went and I felt desperate. The Africans were threatening to reverse my release. So, I knew it was time for action.

I became a fixture at the nurse’s station bombarding them with questions. “Are my valuables here?” “Is there anything I need to sign.”

I rolled up my bed coverings, cleared out my dresser and prepared my belongings for departure.

I eventually resorted to upsetting the head African to the point of being THROWN OUT.

But did I care? Of course not! I categorized it as a VICTORY and happily walked out into the CALIFORNIA SUNSHINE.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum