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Remembering Imam Jamil Al-Amin: Love From Those Who Knew Him

On November 21, 2025, Imam Jamil Abdullah Al-Amin passed away in federal custody at the age of 81. Born H. Rap Brown in 1943, he walked a remarkable path—from Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee chairman to devoted Muslim spiritual leader who spent his final decades serving a life sentence for a crime he and his supporters insist he did not commit.

For over twenty years, advocates fought for his freedom, pointing to trial irregularities, recanted testimony, and missing evidence. But even as legal battles raged, those who knew Imam Jamil remembered something the courtroom could never capture: a man whose commitment to justice was inseparable from his faith, whose khutbahs moved hearts, whose presence transformed neighborhoods, and whose Islam was lived in the service of community.

In Atlanta’s West End, Imam Jamil built more than a mosque. He established grocery stores where there were none, mediated disputes, counseled at-risk youth, and created a space where Black Muslims could exist with dignity and purpose. It was a vision of Islamic practice rooted in the concrete needs of his people—one that refused the false choice between spiritual devotion and material struggle.

The testimonies that follow come from those whose lives he touched: students who heard him teach, attorneys who fought for his care behind bars, community members who grew up under his guidance, and scholars who recognized in him the seamless integration of faith and action. Their words are not hagiography but memory—honest, specific, and deeply felt. They speak of a man who, even in isolation, never stopped teaching, never stopped struggling, and never stopped believing that true freedom lay in submission to Allah.

These voices remind us that Imam Jamil’s story cannot be reduced to headlines or courtroom verdicts. His legacy lives in the communities he nurtured, in the model of principled resistance he embodied, and in the seeds of wisdom he planted in every conversation. As we mourn his passing, we also honor the life he lived and the lessons he left behind.

What follows are the words of those who knew and loved him.

Maha al-Kolalli
“The last time I saw him, he said, ‘I am already free, I’ve already won.’ Winning is to have your soul right when you get to the other side.”

Maha al-Kolalli

Attorney, Professor

It was a battle to get him buried—the challenge of getting someone buried after federal incarceration. Especially when they are Muslim, and you do not want embalming or autopsy, and you want them to respect the time frame of the burial. We buried him as quickly as we could. There are a lot of dynamics in recovering someone from state or federal prison. It was an interesting experience that I had not had before.

Imam Jamil was a blessed soul. I feel like wherever he goes, wherever his soul is, Allah sends his helpers to guide and protect through the journey, in his life and in his death. Alhamdulillah.

Wherever you are supposed to be in life, Allah puts you there. Whatever souls you are destined to cross paths with in this life, it happens in the strangest of ways. In the 1990s, Imam Jamil was around, and I would see him at ISNA conferences and people would say, “Hey, that’s H. Rap Brown.” Everyone was trying to get a little piece of the story, a little piece of wisdom. He would be towering over everybody. He’s this tall man with this confident demeanor. There would be all these brothers making tawaf around him, trying to get some of his light.

I was in New York when they took him; I was in college. When I came back to Florida, I was going to law school, and I remember asking what happened with Jamil’s case. And just thinking he probably has the best lawyers in the country. I’m sure they are doing everything for him. There’s no way he is not working with the best legal team ever; this is Imam Jamil Al-Amin.

He’s a selfless soul. What I found on this journey is that he would always comfort others, especially those who were concerned about his death. The last time I saw him, he said, “I am already free, I’ve already won. To fight systems of oppression, fight for human rights, for seven decades is a win.” He was not as concerned with what we define as winning. Winning is to have your soul right when you get to the other side. I remember sitting in prison with him, and he said, “I’m free.”

Kamilah Pickett
“For those of us who grew up with Imam Jamil, it was the quiet confidence that there was no conflict between being very Black and very Muslim.”

Kamilah Pickett

Attorney, Believers Bailout Abolitionist

I will offer that growing up in Imam Jamil’s community (may Allah be pleased with him) was foundational to how I move through the world as a Black Muslim and in how I think about freedom, justice, and liberation. Abolition was not a term that I heard used growing up and I don’t know that any of the adults in my community were using that language to describe themselves. I do know that what they were doing, and how they were framing the world for us, was the essence of abolition.

It was the imagining and creating of a space, the West End (Atlanta neighborhood), as a different way to exist in a society that was anti-Black and hostile to the practice of Islam, most especially by Black folks. It was what Black folks in this country have always done—make a way where there isn’t one—but it was done within the framework and the guidance of Islam and seeking the pleasure of Allah (subhanahu wa ta’ala). For those of us who grew up with Imam Jamil, it was the quiet confidence and confirmation that there was no conflict between being very Black and very Muslim. It was the message of true freedom and justice and peace stemming from Allah (subhanahu wa ta’ala), and the acknowledgment that because all those truths lie with Allah (subhanahu wa ta’ala), then our only fear should be of displeasing Allah (subhanahu wa ta’ala). No system, no political weight, no fear of violence, no FBI presence at Jum’ua prayers should ever get in the way of seeking the truth, speaking the truth and insisting upon our own dignity. May Allah be well pleased with him.

Ayisha Jeffries-Cissè
“If we are determined in the purification of the soul, we can take ourselves and our people into liberation—into the truer freedom of wholeness.”

Ayisha Jeffries-Cissè

Civic Leader, International Consultant, Scholar

Allahumma salli wa sallim ala nabiyyina Muhammad 

اللَّهُمَّ صَلِّ وَ سَلِّمْ عَلَى نَبِيِّنَا مُحَمَّدٍ

Imam Jamil Al Amin (rahimullah) evolved from an intellectually strong but chaotic yet promising leader of youth in his early rise as a warrior for justice to a spiritually mature faith leader who maintained his unwavering commitment to justice and the care of community. 

His presence in the Atlanta community was intentional, his himma (spiritual intention) laser-focused on communal transformation that was not limited to the Muslim ummah.

His behavior exhibited the seamless integration of faith and action as he simultaneously defended his own personal and psychological well-being in the face of a relentless tyrant of a government, particularly state and federal aggression.

He built trust, shared power, fostered an inclusive environment as he strove to bring a struggling West End Atlanta neighborhood into the light. And he succeeded. Everyone felt safe and able to envision thriving. 

Once he was wrongfully convicted, he took that same light into what was intended to exhaust him. But Allah is the best of planners and transformation among those who were restricted by the prison industrial complex began to permeate the structural barriers that were erected to separate men and women from their humanity. That is the power of truth when embodied in the hearts of the believers. 

So what the honorable Imam Jamil means to me is that if we are determined in the purification of the soul, we can take ourselves and our people into liberation, into the truer freedom of wholeness.

May Allah perfume his resting place.

O Allah, forgive him and have mercy on him, and give him strength and pardon him. Be generous to him, and enlarge his entrance. Wash him with water and snow and hail, and cleanse him of his transgressions as a white garment is cleansed of stains. Admit him to Paradise and protect him. 

Maryam Sharrieff
“I then understood that the revolution began with me. I had to revolutionize myself.”

Maryam Sharrieff

Student, Chaplain

The first time I visited Dar-al-Islam in Abiquiu, New Mexico, I was really young. It was the first of many visits and the most memorable. It was the first time I met Imam Jamil al-Amin and he was amongst many other Muslim greats. My first chaplain, Imam Zaid Shakir was there. The beloved professor and ‘Godfather of Islam in America’—Senegambian Suleiman Nyang (rahmatullahi alayhi)—Imam Hamza Yusuf Hanson and Imam Jamil al-Amin were all in attendance. Everyone had decided that Imam Jamil al-Amin should deliver the khutbah—Friday sermon—for Jum’ua. I was shook and in awe! I cannot remember what he said, just that it was the best khutbah I had ever heard!

Imam Jamil’s ability to articulate the mundane was profound, clever and persuasively easy. He spoke to my youthful soul. I was really impressed and it’s hard to impress me, but his way with words and his sincerity emanated from his body. I was not only happy, I was proud to be Muslim.

Later on I overheard a conversation at the airport. It was a recording of someone having lunch in a local New Mexico diner. I discovered it was a tape of Imam Jamil al-Amin being surveilled by the U.S. government. I found this to be deeply troubling and I immediately sought out his book, Revolution by the Book: The Rap is Live, which was simple yet very powerful. I then understood that the revolution began with me. I had to revolutionize myself. I recognized the transformation would not be easy but necessary if I was going to be about justice truly. May Allah (‘azza wa jalla) give him the highest level of paradise—Allahuma Ameen.


Maryam Sharrieff is the denominational counselor to Muslim students at Harvard Divinity School. She previously served as the Muslim chaplain at various institutions of higher learning and also teaches at Rabata, a faith-based educative organization focused on spiritual and cultural change.  Sharrieff’s teaching interests involve death and dying in Islam, healing, the historical legacy of Islam in America, authority and leadership in Muslim women’s scholarship, and race religion. She has degrees in Middle Eastern studies, TV and film, and Italian from Rutgers University and a master’s degree in theological studies from Harvard Divinity School.

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