A Journey Through Memory and Moral Reckonin
Montgomery: A Pilgrimage Through Pain, Memory, and Awakening
By Ibrahim M. Zikirullahi, Executive Director, Resource Centre for Human Rights & Civic Education (CHRICED)
From August 14–16, 2025, I journeyed to Montgomery, Alabama—not as a tourist, but as a pilgrim in search of truth. It was a solemn walk through corridors of history where injustice lingers not as relics, but as living reminders of humanity’s capacity for cruelty—and resilience. This experience comes at a pivotal moment, as CHRICED, with support from the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation, prepares to establish the Abuja Native Heritage Centre: a landmark for cultural preservation, historical interrogation, and civic awakening.
Bearing Witness: Monuments of Pain and Truth
At the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, I stood beneath hundreds of steel columns, each engraved with the names of Black men, women, and children lynched in acts of racial terror. Suspended like coffins in the air, these monuments were silent yet deafening. As I walked beneath them, I felt the weight of each name pressing against my conscience. The soil beneath my feet—collected from lynching sites across America—seemed to whisper stories of lives stolen, families shattered, and justice denied. This was not merely a memorial; it was a reckoning.
Art as Testimony: Sculpting the Unspoken
At the Freedom Monument Sculpture Park, art became testimony. The sculptures—twisted in agony, chained in despair—brought the horrors of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade into visceral focus. These were not abstractions; they were echoes of real bodies, real pain, real lives. White supremacy was stripped of its false grandeur, revealed instead as grotesque domination. It reduced entire populations to instruments of labour, stripped of agency, dignity, and even the right to grieve. Black suffering—whether in the fields or on the streets—was visible, yet deliberately ignored.
The Legacy Museum: A Wound That Speaks
The journey culminated at The Legacy Museum, where history unfolded like a wound that refuses to heal. From slavery to segregation, from Jim Crow to mass incarceration, the museum traced the evolution of racial injustice with unflinching clarity. I saw how systems adapt, how oppression mutates, and how the machinery of dehumanization continues to grind. The stories of sexual exploitation, forced separations, and generational trauma were not confined to the past—they reverberate into the present, into every prison cell, every impoverished neighbourhood, every silenced voice.
Internal Betrayal: The Complicity Within
Yet amid this reflection, a deeper, more uncomfortable truth emerged. Could such a vast and brutal system have thrived without internal betrayal? History points to the complicity of African traditional rulers—many of whom were not victims, but architects of the slave trade. They sold their subjects, enriched their courts, and became merchants of misery. That betrayal did not end with abolition. In post-colonial Africa, these same institutions often aligned with military dictatorships and civilian autocracies, serving as tools of suppression rather than stewards of justice.
This realization was painful. It forced me to confront not only the legacy of external oppression but the enduring structures of internal complicity. It reminded me that injustice is not always imposed—it is sometimes enabled.
From Memory to Mandate: Building the Abuja Native Heritage Centre
As we prepare for the establishment of the Abuja Native Heritage Centre, this experience in Montgomery must serve as a compass. The Centre must not only preserve culture—it must interrogate it. It must be a space where memory is honoured, truth is spoken, and accountability is demanded. It must confront the uncomfortable, challenge the powerful, and inspire the oppressed.
Montgomery taught me that history is not behind us—it is within us. And if we are to build a future rooted in dignity, we must first face the past with courage. With this in mind, we must take the following lessons into consideration:
- Memory as Resistance: The National Memorial and The Legacy Museum do more than commemorate—they confront. They force a reckoning with the brutality of racial terror and the enduring legacy of white supremacy. The Abuja Native Heritage Centre must draw from this ethos, creating spaces that not only preserve indigenous heritage but also interrogate the forces that have historically undermined it.
- Interrogating Internal Complicity: Reflection on the role of traditional rulers in the slave trade, colonialism, and their continued alignment with oppressive regimes raises a critical point. The Centre must serve as a platform to explore these internal contradictions, encouraging honest dialogue about power, betrayal, and the need for accountability within African societies.
- Healing Through Truth: The violence of separation, incarceration, and exploitation witnessed in Montgomery mirrors many post-colonial realities in Africa. A heritage centre rooted in truth-telling can become a site of healing, where historical wounds are acknowledged and collective dignity is restored.
- Bridging Histories: My experience in Montgomery underscores the interconnectedness of African and African American histories. The Abuja Native Heritage Centre must foster transatlantic dialogue, linking narratives of resistance, survival, and cultural resilience across continents.
Conclusion
This journey was not an end—it was a beginning. A call to memory, to truth, and to transformation. I am deeply grateful to Bryan Stevenson and the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI), whose uncompromising work continues to inspire peace lovers and justice seekers across the globe. May the Abuja Native Heritage Centre rise as a beacon of that call—a place where history is not buried, but confronted; where dignity is not abstract, but lived.
