A positive note from me for once! I defy you to not shed a happy tear!

 They Are My Boys

by Nur Hannah Wan

“Salaam Selay-kum, Ak! Salaam Selay-kum!”- For those of you not familiar with T.G.A. vernacular, this was the greeting between students as they met on the streets of New Jersey. In a swarm of baggy pants, hoodies and high tops, they touched knuckles and bowed their heads in salute. Of course, what they had intended to say was ‘Salaam Alay-kum’, the Arabic for ‘Peace be upon you,’ Ak being the abbreviated slang term for Akhi, or my brother. Aimen chuckled as he recalled this story to me, amused at how his boys had managed to take an ancient Middle Eastern greeting and transform it into something uniquely theirs.

Imperfect though their Arabic may have been, Aimen was still proud of their attempts- their mispronounced greetings were a far cry from the profanities that would have previously left their mouths. For most of them, the streets were familiar turf. Abandoned by mothers who could no longer handle the challenge or kicked out of school repeatedly for bad behaviour, most of these boys had street life thrown at them with no choice but to grab with both hands.

At least now they were spreading peace, and not their arms across the bonnet of a cop’s car, face down, surrounded by a flood of sirens and blue flashing lights. In fact, three months into T.G.A. schooling, some had already traded in their medallions for prayer beads- they had come a long way from the lives they had previously lived, and were now counting blessings instead.

Sulaiman Sharif, or Brother Aimen as the boys would call him, is a teacher in the art of silat, originally developed in the Malay archipelago. Silat Seni Gayong, the particular style taught by Aimen, was developed in the villages of Malaysia in 1813: -

“That was the only thing we - the Malays - had at that time that belonged to us and was readily available at nearly every other Malay village”.

Aimen’s interest in the art began at the young age of nine and he soon became familiar with several different forms of silat. Eventually, in the early 90’s, the founder of Silat Seni Gayong, Dato’ Meor Abdul Rahman, asked him to leave his native Malaysia and spread his knowledge to the U.S.A. He held seminars at various locations including East Los Angeles in California where he demonstrated at the Inosanto Academy, owned by Danny Inosanto- martial arts legend Bruce Lee’s protégé. His next stop took him to the rougher streets of Philadelphia, or- as the locals referred to it- The Wild Wild West Philly, so called because of its reputation for drugs, gangs, shootings, and prostitution. He describes how some mornings he would find himself sweeping bullet shells off the pavements, instead of leaves: “You ask anyone about 51st & Market street- they’ll know what I’m talking about.”

It was here that Aimen decided to open the first Halal food outlet in Philadelphia. He recalls that- “When we first arrived, they had bullet proof glass at the counter, you know? Like in a bank,” but “the first thing we did when we got there was take it down...the locals thought I was crazy.”

Of course, the story of a successful man is never complete without a woman guiding the way. He did not journey alone through America’s roughest neighbourhoods. His wife Nurliza Khalid was with him each step of the way.

Eventually, having earned a reputation within the community, the couple were asked to “school-sit” a Muslim private school whilst the owners were away. They were expected to teach the academic syllabus as well as Islamic and were so successful that, as word spread of their work, they were asked to teach privately in New Jersey. They packed their bags to relocate, and it was here that the story of The T.G.A. began.

So what exactly is The T.G.A?

The Taqwa Gayong Academy was set up unofficially in 1990, with twenty students initially, mainly boys and mainly African American. As most had been suspended or expelled from school, the T.G.A offered home schooling; many students were pulled back a grade or two to go over subjects in which they performed poorly. With over twenty students and only two teachers, Aimen and Nurliza split students into groups and taught them everything offered by the American school syllabus and more.

Children came from all over, from the streets of West and North Philadelphia to New York and Atlanta, as their parents (mainly single) or foster parents heard about the school through simple word of mouth. Some days, boys would arrive at their doorstep “with bee-hive hair and gold medallions around their necks...sometimes with a trash bag in hand, carrying all they had.”

The students lived and studied at the T.G.A residence. Having twenty students in a one- bathroom, three-bedroom house proved to be a bit much, so the couple decided to relocate and opted for one of the largest buildings in Paulsboro, New Jersey. Eventually, the family grew to a total of thirty-two students. Their youngest, *Armand and Shaun, had come to them at the ages of six and seven, respectively. “[Armand] had been suspended from kindergarten six times! He would pick a fight with anyone, he didn’t care what size,” Nurliza tells me. He was sent to the T.G.A by foster parents who were on the brink of a “nervous breakdown.”

His cousin Shaun had a slightly different story. Having lost both his sister and mother to AIDS while his father served a fifteen year sentence for rape, he was also under foster care and prescribed with all the pills the doctors could think of to ensure he too did not have the virus.  He was also diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or ADHD, and so had an additional supply of pills to complement the first set. His foster mother pleaded with Aimen and Nurliza to take him in.  “The first thing we did was send the bags of pills home with the foster mum,” Nurliza says.  “Though it was difficult for him at first, he nevertheless persevered and was drug-free for the rest of the time he was with us.” She explained how silat helped these two hyperactive children: - “It did wonders for them, it channeled their hyper-activeness. Armand was one of our best students- he actually graduated from high school yesterday. Shaun now has a baby and is attending The University of Atlanta where he obtained a football scholarship.”

Silat lessons took place after academic sessions, where the boys would train for three solid hours. Some of the more dedicated students would wake as early as 4am to gain some additional training: “The students really enjoyed these sessions with Aimen and their spirit reverberated through the entire tiny town of Paulsboro,” says Nurliza of the energy she witnessed. “Prior to this, most of them would be roaming the streets till 2-3am and at times cops had to be summoned to round them up.”

Silat training also immersed them into Malay culture, the way of life of the Nusantara that valued humility and respect, especially of elders. “They would kiss the hands of their elders upon entry and exit, eat with their hands, sit on the floor when their elders sat on chairs, wear kain pelikat (traditional attire), watch silat movies and eat Malay food.”

And, of course, with Malay culture came the teachings of Islam. Nurliza and Aimen were practicing Muslims, praying five times a day and fasting once a year, during the month of Ramadhan. As some students were born into Islam, they were able to revert to their old practices under Aimen and Nurliza’s guidance. For those that weren’t, it was a chance for them to gain a different perspective on life. “We never forced our beliefs upon them,” says Aimen, “They were living with us, and so through that gained a taste of the way we lived our lives”.

Although an undeniably excellent form of discipline, I questioned whether teaching one of the deadliest forms of martial arts to a group of “troubled’’ children and teenagers ever had its drawbacks. “Yes, it was a big risk, I was teaching problem kids but the problem they had wasn’t with us but their past,” replies Aimen. “All we had to do was listen and provide the attention and care that was missing from their pasts, together with the discipline that the silat provided, and the kids became just kids. No longer as problematic.”

Nurliza and Aimen ran the Taqwa Gayong Academy for thirteen years, providing shelter, education and, most importantly, attention to children and teenagers that were otherwise deemed problematic and troubled. Sadly, after the tragic events of September 11th, things began to change. As the media were pointing the fingers of blame at Islam, living in America as a Muslim became a lot more difficult.

“We were not even able to leave our house,” says Nurliza, of the harassment that they were now facing as a result of the perceived association between 911 and Islam. The T.G.A, seen to be associated with Islam, received a letter from the Borough with an order to “cease and desist”. I ask Aimen if they attempted to appeal against the order to save the T.G.A, into which they had put in over a decade of their life. “When they tell you leave, that’s it. No arguing,” replied Aimen. The T.G.A was forced to shut down.

Nurliza and Aimen are now settled back in Malaysia where they have established a tuition centre. Aimen still teaches silat and Nurliza is using her experience to complete a Masters degree in Youth Studies. Looking back at the times they spent building up the T.G.A

in America, Nurliza recalls the “sweat, blood and buckets of tears” endured during those years. She also recalls the lessons she learnt: “Looking back now, the students were actually the ones who taught me to fight back with the resilience of youth that I borrowed from them to strengthen my inner resolve”.

They are still in touch with their former students in the U.S.A, mainly via Facebook. To their satisfaction, they have been able to see from there that some of their former charges have graduated, got married and are themselves proud fathers of their own children. Nurliza often looks back to those days they spent in the United States, trying to help young people who have dropped out of society to come back and contribute to it in ways that they never thought possible.

Now, in a different surrounding, even simple chores will bring her back to her past. She may be stacking things into the shelves of her pantry and this may trigger a memory of Ramadhan in Paulsboro where she had to keep her refrigerators constantly stocked, even when funds were scarce, so that her students wouldn’t go without. Cooking certain dishes will stir up memories of having to ward off a stampede of hungry children out of her kitchen.

As she looks back at old photographs to be used for a university project she is reminded of grocery shopping on weekends where she would walk the streets of New Jersey with an entourage of her T.G.A students. She laughs as she tells me of some occasions where police officers would stop her and ask whether she was being harassed. “It’s okay”, she would tell them calmly, “they are my boys”.

END