On the Shoulders of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr: The Deportation of a Young, Black Man
January 16, 2012 in Action Alert, deportation, Opinion Piece by Kemi
On this Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, we begin, as he often liked to do, with a story:
It reads like the plot of a Jason Bourne movie – In a time of military dictatorship in a fledgling nation, a journalist hones his craft, intent on publishing articles exposing the actions and hypocrisy of a corrupted government administration. His words seek to educate and liberate his fellow countrymen, but are soon met by demands for his silence. On three separate occasions, he is detained, questioned and beaten by the police. Yet he refuses to remain silent. One day, while in a car with his wife, he is stopped by a car of uniformed policemen, shot point-blank, and taken away, his wife and driver fleeing for their lives. What happened to his body is unclear, yet there is certainty that his government killers went unpunished.
But this is no box office blockbuster, unfortunately. This is how the story begins for Al Chisom, the 1 year-old boy whose life began at the crossroads of his father’s killing in Lagos, Nigeria in 1991. Outraged “that no actions would be taken against the police who killed her husband,” his 28 year-old mother filed a lawsuit against the Nigerian government. After they began receiving death threats from her husband’s killers, Al and his mother were forced into hiding for years. They eventually escaped to the United States and filed for political asylum, seeing as they were, by most definitions, political refugees.
Their initial asylum application was denied on the basis that her husband’s death “was not politically motivated.” Yet there are multiple mentions of the political killing in the media, as well as in the U.S. State Department’s 1992 Report on Human Rights, an Amnesty International Report on extra-judicial killings, and a dissertation on transnational justice. Not surprisingly, the same judge who denied their case denied 85% of all asylum cases from 2002 to 2005, pointing to a lack of understanding of the context and complex danger of political persecution. However, due to attorney negligence and an unforgiving immigration system, Al and his mother were purposefully misinformed by their lawyer and missed a crucial court date in their appeal process, leading to an order of deportation in their absence.
Having been in the U.S. since the age of 5, Al is now a 21 year-old a student at Central Washington University. Though he aspires to be a medical doctor, he is now facing imminent deportation back to Nigeria, where, as political refugees, his life and the life of his mother will certainly be at risk. Like many other undocumented youth, Al’s entire life, including the remainder of his extended family who have taken him in, is crafted of memories in the United States. He has no knowledge of Nigeria and cannot speak the native language of his parents.
Here we are presented with a unique challenge. A black man is caught at the intersections of a broken immigration system and the equally broken, quota-driven detention and deportation system. A son loses his father to police brutality and government corruption, all over a battle of freedom of speech and the press in a time of military dictatorship. A mother’s courageous decision to fight for justice against one government and protection from another is met with hostility and further violence by both states, one which seeks to kill her and the other which seeks to silence her within its structure of detention. Human rights violations have fractured and separated this family, from father to mother, and now threaten the next generation through their son’s unjust and immoral deportation.
Today we reflect upon and celebrate the legacy of another black man caught at intersections – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Just as Dr. King understood that the battle of the time was bigger than civil rights, was deep and systematically entrenched in a history of language, degradation, psychological conditioning and institutionalized oppression of black people in the United States, we must recognize the same. That our battle is bigger than legalization, is encompassing of civil rights and human rights, and is also entrenched in a history of the abuse and dehumanization of another people of color – immigrants.
“The Negro will only be free when he reaches down to the inner depths of his own being and signs with the pen and ink of assertive manhood his own emancipation proclamation. And with a spirit straining toward true self-esteem, the Negro must boldly throw off the manacles of self-abnegation and say to himself and to the world, “I am somebody. I am a person. I am a man with dignity and honor. I have a rich and noble history, however painful and exploited that history has been. Yes, I was a slave through my foreparents, and now I’m not ashamed of that. I’m ashamed of the people who were so sinful to make me a slave.”
This country’s long history of victim-blaming, of laying the burden of proof on the oppressed and not the oppressor, of a warped geopolitical perspective due to its own imperialist mindset must be recognized for the disservice and pain it causes so many seeking asylum, identity and that elusive quest for home.
Just as Dr. King encouraged a broader dialogue that exposed the need for a system-wide restructuring, the spirit of both internal and external revolution, and the audacity to demand no less than true, authentic change, we must encourage the same.
“…we must honestly face the fact that the movement must address itself to the question of restructuring the whole of American society…We are called upon to help the discouraged beggars in life’s marketplace. But one day we must come to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring. It means that questions must be raised. You begin to ask the questions “Who owns the oil? Who owns the iron ore?”
We must raise the question of why an assassination, a well-documented human rights violation is not enough “proof” of political persecution for the U.S. (whose judicial system works much differently for immigrants than for the larger population). Of why a country like Nigeria, capable of producing millions of barrels of oil, lacks the infrastructure to refine its own resource, and has to import from other countries that which lies underneath its soil? Of why it is now taboo to point out the grave consequences of colonialism on the failures of globalization, capitalism and democracy in developing nations?
Just as Dr. King implored the nation to “develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness,” of mutual accountability of oppressed people to one another in the various struggles they face, of collective responsibility of society to advocate for justice, we must implore the same.
“And so the first question that the priest asked was, “If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?” But then the Good Samaritan came by, and he reversed the question: “If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?” That’s the question before you tonight. Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination.”
To be clear, Al’s decision to go public with his case means that, if deported to Nigeria, he will be at even greater risk of persecution. We are asking that you help stop his deportation so that before he can benefit from passage of the DREAM Act, before he can go back to college, he has a chance to live first, among family, without fear of retaliation. We are asking that our fellow communities of color step up and take action, for in the words of Dr. King, “a time comes when silence is betrayal.” We are asking this movement to collectively fight for these cases – the confusing, political, complex, risky cases – to continue to challenge and grow the narrative of who is worthy of being saved from deportation.
We ask everyone to acknowledge the privilege we have in standing on the shoulders of those like Dr. King who have come before us, of benefiting from the successes of those in the civil rights and other movements who perished so that our voices would not be silenced, but amplified.
How to take action:
Sign the petition: http://chn.ge/zFfNoR
Make a call to ICE: 202.732.3000 or 202-732-3100
Sample Script: “Hi, I am calling to ask that the deportation of DREAMer Al Chisom (A# 073 426 339) be stopped. Al has been living in the U.S. since he was 5 years old and is currently an honor roll student at Central Washington University. Al’s father was assasinated in Nigeria; if deported his life would be in danger!”





















