Deric Muhammad graces the November Cover of Hurt 2 Healing: "How to Fight Injustice"

I've been knowing Deric Muhammad for about, uhm, my entire life. Yes, he's my brother from the same mother. Many people still don't know that, including many in our own Nation of Islam. It's funny to witness their expressions when they find out we're related. I've learned so much from him since he fished me into the NOI and he helped to train me into the organizer I have been blessed to become and is becoming. 

We're both budding products of the tree of the Teachings of the Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad as Taught by His star student the Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan. And shaped by God in the same womb of Mavis Celeste Jackson. (Hey mama)

This month, Brother Deric bears the cover of Hurt 2 Healing magazine, founded by Ebony S. Muhammad of Houston. Interestingly, this magazine was born out of a march against domestic violence that Brother Deric and I organized in 2006 in Houston during the Essence Festival. 

We are proud that Sister Ebony has remained consistent in keeping the H2H message alive and thriving. I had the honor of being on the cover in June 2010. And now Brother Deric makes his debut. My brother is looking sharp and the interview is awesome. Here's an excerpt below. Click the link afterwards, purchase hundreds of copies and check out the facelift that Sister Ebony's website has received. TIGHT!..

Ebony S. Muhammad (EM): Let’s begin your journey through activism, specifically your fight for justice, by revisiting the very first moment you were introduced to injustice.
DM: I was about 11 years old. We were living in the projects off of Mesa Road. They called those projects “The Hole”, because there was one way in and one way out. I remember being outside playing with some friends, and I saw one man being chased by some other men. They got into a tussle, and two of the men ran off leaving the other man lying on the ground. I saw that he was bleeding, and I immediately recognized the man as one of my mother’s friends. He was in our home a couple of days earlier fellowshipping with my mother; they had been drinking that day. I went to tell my mom, “That man who was in our house the other day is outside lying on the ground bleeding. I think he got stabbed”. By the time I got back, a huge crowd had gathered around him. Some of the people were his family members, some were his neighbors and some were just concerned people from the community.

People were doing what they knew how to do to revive him, however, it was to no avail. I just remember everybody became distraught. People started crying, grieving and weeping. I remember hearing people say, “He’s dying, he’s dying!” It was probably a good 20-25 minutes before the ambulance arrived. I remember when the ambulance got there the entire community was upset, because the paramedics came so late. Everybody truly believed had they come earlier this man probably could have survived his knife wound. I remember that very, very vividly.

I remember saying to myself how unjust it was that they took as long as they took and that man died. That was the first time that I ever saw somebody die in my entire life. I felt that it was senseless. Later on we found out he was stabbed over some small amount of money; something very, very minute and of course nothing to take a life over. I believe that his life could have been saved had that ambulance come sooner, and it infuriated me as an 11-year-old. To this day how I felt as an 11-year-old having seen that kind of injustice, is the same way I see it today.


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