It was five o’clock in the morning. I am very cold, and I am not sure if it was because of the rain or the fact that I am going to die this morning. I finished my prayers and saw that my tears have stained my praying-mat like a whole bowl of water just spilled all over it. I didn’t sleep at all last night, as I took turns either praying or crying my head off. I knew it was too late. Hoping against hope isn’t going to get me anywhere. As the Ustaz mentioned yesterday, I have to “Redha” as this is my fate. I have to accept it.
I fought a good fight. I am innocent. But who isn’t if the gallows are inches away from their neck, who is not innocent? No one believes me, and I have exhausted all my plea’s, there is no one left that I could beg for my life.
I heard the footsteps and the jingle of keys as the guards opened the outer door that leads to my cell. The sound of other inmates roused by the commotion is beginning to rise. One recited the “Azan”, while others were just shouting incoherently. My vision became very sharp, it was as if I could take a knife and slice through everything I see. The noise was silenced by the guards, except for the “Azan”. Kadir just went on delivering the “Azan”, and the guards let him. Kadir was next, and he knew it. He too have little to hope for as he was caught with a van full of marijuana, and crying innocent is not going to help him either.
I am done crying. I am done regretting. I am just done being done.
I wish that the next few minutes could be sped up into seconds. I just wanted to get this over with. I no longer have any fight in me. Though I am very afraid. I am very afraid of the inevitable pain. They say that dying is painful, and I am afraid that it is going to hurt. I asked the Ustaz yesterday if God would forgive my sins, as I now know when I am going to die. They said that the door to repentance is closed after you die, does that apply if I knew when I am going to die? He said that it is up to God, and God is Most Forgiving and Most Merciful. I only wished that human was as forgiving.
They looked at me from outside my cell as if I am going to lunge and wreck their well laid out routines. I looked at the guards and the Warden, smiled and told them to come in and get me. I may not be ready, but if I am to meet my maker, it might just as well be now. This is a good day to die. I didn’t know if it was courage or if it was just abandonment. I have failed to be alive, I might as well look forward to death.
They opened the door gingerly and stepped inside. Two of the guards immediately stood behind me and cuffed my hands. The Warden looked at me, and with a face full of regret as if he agreed with my innocence, he read my charges and the punishment meted upon me. Then the Ustaz walked into the cell and asked me if there is anything I would like to say to him. I looked at him, my eyes was cloudy as tears was streaming, and I couldn’t find my voice. The words did not come out. So instead I just looked at him and shook my head. He came closer and hugged me, and I just kept on weeping. He kissed me on the forehead as if I am his long lost son and said “Sabarlah nak, semua ini bukan kerja kita lagi. Redhalah nak… redha lah. Mengucap nak, mengucap. Ikut saya mengucap”. And we both in unison recited the proclamation of faith that there is only one God and that Muhammad is his Prophet. He then said that my family and him will be reading the Ya’asin outside while they proceeded with my execution. I never thought of that. Reading the Ya’asin for a man condemn to death not by disease nor by some freak accident. Condemn to death by a system that does not work. A system that have failed to single me out as innocent.
I knew that there was nothing that I can do. These people are going to kill me, and there is nothing I can do. I don’t know how to explain the feeling. I feel so helpless. I am going to be killed for a crime I never committed. Yet I am supposed to accept it as my fate? I am supposed to “Redha”? I ask god if this is what he meant by his test. If this was a test, I have failed for sure, because in all my acceptance and in all my repentance, I have not come to “Redha” my fate. I can’t. My life will to be taken away from me, and I can’t accept that.
They walked me out of my cell, and we slowly made our way to the execution-chamber just next to the cells. The cell was again loud with shouts from all the inmates, and this time even the guards could not quench the cry.
I was brought into a brightly lit room with a large black curtain in front of it. I thought that the room would be a lot bigger. It was quite cramped and the black curtain hides a screen; and the people that will be watching me die. In the middle of the room was the gallows. There was a triangular piece of wood that looks almost like a bench under the gallows.
The guard said that he is going to cover my head now. I looked at him and asked him his name. He looked at the Warden. I said that I am going to die, who am I going to tell his name to? The Warden nodded his approval. The guard said his name was Muhammad. I smiled. I said that if there was anyone that I wanted to kill me, perhaps Muhammad is the best person. I found comfort in his name, but then I am a man about to die in the next few minutes. I would probably try to find comfort in anything.
My legs felt very weak as Muhammad covered my head. They carried me forward, and I knew why they had the piece of wood under the gallows. It was to support me so I could stand upright. I felt someone placing the noose around my head. Its leather rubbed against my neck as they slid it into position. I can’t stop crying, and I could hear them saying “Mengucap, mengucap, mengucap”.
I am angry. Angry at the fact that I am going to die.
I was so angry that the rage in my head no longer have an enemy. I no longer know who to blame or who to hate. I wanted so much to blame God. He did this to me. He is the reason that I am going to die! And in that fraction of a second I finally understood what the Ustaz was trying to tell me. “Redha lah” … Accept it. I realized now what I am supposed to accept. God if I accept this, will you pay me with heaven in return? Will you let me grace heaven’s door for accepting my fate as a man of religion? Will you?
Then there was a crash, like a thousand whip cracked all at the same time as I struggled to regain my footing, the floor gave way and I felt like I fell for eternity, and finally it was all silent…
(Zed's Note: I read the first few comments to this story and decided to add this. Before you guys think that I am off the cliff or something I'd better give this story some context! Okay, this was written quite a while back. I was at Pudu Jail, in the execution chamber and they had a play-by-play of the last morning a person goes through as he is brought into the room and hanged. I have always wondered what goes through a man's head as he walks into this room. Perhaps it's morbid, or even despicable but as a country we have decided that it is acceptable to hang a person to death. Many have died at the end of this rope, and some or maybe only one - just one person; is truly innocent. How would he have felt as he goes through the last final moments of his life?
Actually we will never know. Anyway, this is just another one of my stories as I continue to experiment with this medium of telling tales. If it has disturbed you, then I am sorry. If it did not, then perhaps I have failed?)
