The Memory Stirred Within Me: Jamila and the African Society

Dr Salwa Hassan Siddig
The news reports that His Excellency Ambassador Ali bin Hassan Al Hammadi, accompanied by the Munazzamt Al Dawah Al Islamyyah’s (MDI) Secretary-General, Ahmed Mohammed Adam, recently delivered means of production to one of the centres of the African Charitable Society. This news comes against the backdrop of the ongoing momentum around renewed confidence in Sudan’s ability to continue hosting the MDI’s Headquarters — a well-deserved recognition earned over more than four decades of the MDI’s existence.
Despite the fierce winds of change that followed the ill-fated revolution, which sought to uproot some of Sudan’s strongest pillars of charitable work, divine providence has continued to protect this firmly rooted institution. How could it not, when it has given so much without favour, harm, pretence, or vanity — only sincerity and devotion? Those who are sincere are guarded by heaven in all its might; thus life has taught us, and thus the MDI’s own records and history testify.
The mention of the African Charitable Society — formerly known as the “African Society for Maternal and Child Care”, one of the MDI’s historic arms — awakened within me a beautiful memory of one of the Society’s foundational pillars: my late friend Jamila Awad Al-Tayeb, and the women who stood alongside her in building this institution upon their shoulders.
At the time, most of the Society’s female employees were graduates of the Islamic University’s Faculty of Social Sciences. The connection between their academic specialisation and their profession reflected the significance of the role envisioned by the MDI’s founders for the Society: that it should become a gateway to education and healthcare, as the two most powerful instruments of change in people’s lives. Through them, the Society entered the lives of the communities it served through the widest of doors and succeeded in carrying out its conscious humanitarian mission in the service of society.
In the late 1980s, when we were just beginning our careers in journalism, we eagerly awaited Jamila’s news and the movement of her work among communities, camps, and displacement areas. Most of her activities — indeed most of her life — revolved around orphans, as though she possessed no existence outside theirs. You would find her among them in schools, in their homes, in their celebrations, and within their small productive projects. She understood their innermost circumstances and needs. She did everything with her characteristic gentleness and her remarkable ability to comfort hearts beyond ordinary limits. She acted as though she had done nothing at all. Her humility would leave you ashamed before yourself, unable to do anything except admire her and wish her even more love from others — for she had already captured hearts.
We used to wait for her reports about the Society for publication on the back pages of the newspapers — and what significance those back pages carried in those days. We published the stories with pride, knowing that Sudan possessed charitable societies with tangible impact: organisations that did not wait for incentives or rewards. Nearly all the funds provided by their donors, save for a tiny fraction, went directly towards fulfilling their objectives.
We often accompanied them, together with the newspaper photographer, who marvelled at the remoteness and scattered nature of the places they reached, and at these angelic individuals serving such communities. Their smiles of contentment and the joy of giving always preceded them. They treated us with affection and esteem, and scarcely had our reports and ink dried before Jamila would call again, requesting coverage for yet another initiative.
Jamila and her companions — Aisha Mohammed Ali Faris and Amina — stood at the centre of this giving. Into it they poured such compassion and mercy that it overflowed the needs of the families they served. Among them, Jamila — may God have mercy upon her — became especially renowned because she embodied an entire school of gentleness.
We used to tease her by saying:
“If Umm Rawaba had given the world no one but you, that alone would have been enough for its honour.”
She would answer only with that pure laugh of hers and with even greater work devoted to people’s needs, care, and connection with them — or for their sake — as though she had been created solely to give. May God have mercy upon her and weigh her scale of good deeds heavily.
We whisper into the ears of the MDI’s Secretary-General and Chairman of the Board of Trustees that the workers of this Society deserve recognition, and that the legacy of this name should remain a shining torch and a gateway to all the activities of this distinguished organisation of great reputation and standing. May God preserve its dignity and strength.
Above all, we hope that the leadership of the organisation will support the documentation of this great Society’s experience through books and films — both to inspire others and to preserve the rights of those whose rewards, we trust, are multiplied in the sight of the Creator.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=13797