White Teeth (57 page)

These articles, cruel, mocking, and offensive, had been written by one Norman Henshall and were now classics of their kind, distributed among KEVIN members throughout England as an example (if example were needed) of the virulent, anti-KEVIN element that bred in the press from even this fetal stage of their movement. Note—KEVIN members were advised—how Henshall's articles end halfway through May '87, the very month that Brother Ibr
h
m ad-Din Shukrallah succeeded in converting his aunt Carlene through the cat door, using nothing else but the pure truth as it was delivered by the final prophet Muhammad (peace be upon Him!). Note how Henshall fails to document the queues of people who came to speak with Brother Ibr
h
m ad-Din Shukrallah, so many they stretched three blocks round the center of Selly Oak, from the cat door to the bingo hall! Note the failure of this same Mr. Henshall to publish the 637 separate rules and laws that the Brother had spent five years gleaning from the Qur
n (listing them in order of severity, and then in subgroups according to their nature, i.e.,
Regarding Cleanliness and Specific Genital and Oral Hygiene
). Note all this, brothers and sisters, and then
marvel
at the power of word of mouth. Marvel at the dedication and commitment of the young people of Birmingham!

Their eagerness and enthusiasm was so remarkable (extraordinary, outstanding,
unprecedented
) that almost before the Brother emerged from his confinement and announced it himself, the idea of KEVIN had been born within the black and Asian community. A radical new movement where politics and religion were two sides of the same coin. A group that took freely from Garveyism, the American Civil Rights movement, and the thought of Elijah Muhammad, yet remained within the letter of the Qur
n. The Keepers of the Eternal and Victorious Islamic Nation. By 1992 they were a small but widespread body, with limbs as far-flung as Edinburgh and Land's End, a heart in Selly Oak and a soul in the Kilburn High Road. KEVIN: an extremist faction dedicated to direct, often violent action, a splinter group frowned on by the rest of the Islamic community; popular with the sixteen-to-twenty-five age group; feared and ridiculed in the press; and gathered tonight in the Kilburn Hall, standing on chairs and packed to the rafters, listening to the speech of their founder.

“There are three things,” continued Brother Ibr
h
m, looking briefly at his notes, “that the colonial powers wish to do to you, brothers of KEVIN. Firstly, they wish to kill you
spiritually . . .
oh yes, they value nothing higher than your
mental slavery.
There are too many of you to fight hand to hand! But if they have your minds, then—”

“Hey,” went a fat man's attempt at a whisper. “Brother Millat.”

It was Mohammed Hussein-Ishmael, the butcher. He was sweating profusely as ever, and had forced his way through a long line of people, apparently to sit next to Millat. They were distantly related, and these past few months Mo had been rapidly nearing the inner circle of KEVIN (Hifan, Millat, Tyrone, Shiva, Abdul-Colin, and others) by virtue of the money he had put forward and his stated interest in the more “active” sides of the group. Personally, Millat was still a little suspicious of him and objected to his big slobbery face, the great quiff emerging from his toki, and his chicken-breath.

“Late. I have to close up shop. But I been standing at the back for while. Listening. Brother Ibr
h
m is a very impressive man, hmm?”

“Hmm.”

“Very impressive,” repeated Mo, patting Millat's knee conspiratorially, “a very impressive Brother.” Mo Hussein was partly funding Brother Ibr
h
m's tour around England, so it was in his interest (or at least it made him feel better about donating two thousand quid) to find the Brother impressive. Mo was a recent convert to KEVIN (he had been a reasonably good Muslim for twenty years), and his enthusiasm for the group was two-pronged. Firstly, he was just flattered, downright flattered, that he should be considered a sufficiently successful Muslim businessman to leech money off. In normal circumstances he would have shown them the door and where they could stuff a freshly bled chicken, but the truth was, Mo was feeling a bit vulnerable at the time, his stringy-legged Irish wife, Sheila, having just left him for a publican; he was feeling a little
emasculated,
so when KEVIN asked Ardashir for five grand and got it, and Nadir from the rival halal place put up three, Mo came over all macho and put up his own stake.