No Brother Forgotten. Anthony Muhammad and Frank Muhammad Bring Hope Inside D.C. Jail
Behind the Walls: Bringing Light, Brotherhood and Hope to Our Brothers
By Brother Levon X | BLXCR
There is a kind of service that takes place away from the cameras, away from the applause and, in many cases, behind walls most people would rather forget exist.
Brother Frank Muhammad recently joined his Godbrother, Brother Anthony Muhammad, Student Minister of Muhammad Mosque No. 4 in Washington, D.C., for another Prison Reform Ministry visit to the men inside the D.C. Jail. It was an opportunity not simply to visit incarcerated brothers, but to bring them light, truth, encouragement and something every human being needs—the knowledge that somebody on the outside has not forgotten about them.
Brother Frank described on his social media platform walking behind the walls with Brother Anthony and witnessing firsthand what years of committed service looks like. He saw his Godbrother in what he called his “take charge” mode—moving with purpose, speaking directly to the men and demonstrating a genuine concern for their condition.
That experience strengthened Brother Frank’s desire to support a work that requires patience, sacrifice and tremendous faith.
For years, Brother Anthony Muhammad has been a steadfast servant in Washington, D.C. His work reaches from the streets of the community to the men behind prison walls. BLXCR previously interviewed Brother Anthony about the importance of visiting incarcerated men and bringing The Final Call newspaper inside—not merely as something to read, but as a source of information, spiritual nourishment and connection to a community beyond the walls.
From Potomac Gardens to the D.C. Jail
Brother Frank’s involvement is especially meaningful because his service does not begin at the jailhouse door.
His work with young people in Potomac Gardens reflects another side of the same mission: reaching our brothers before the streets, poor decisions and destructive circumstances have an opportunity to determine the direction of their lives.
Going into the jail allows him to see the other side of that equation.
As Brother Frank put it, it is an opportunity to become a better student of the law of cause and effect.
“Only until we become masters of the cause can we better influence the effect.”
That thought deserves serious consideration.
During a recent discussion inside the jail, Brother Frank said none of the men could recall receiving a thorough knowledge of self during their formative years. Yet they shared something else: as little boys, they once dreamed of becoming somebody who could help make the world a better place.
Think about that.
Before the mistakes, before the charges, before the jail cells and before society placed labels on them, there were once little boys with dreams.
That raises an important question for all of us: What are we teaching our children before somebody else teaches them who they are?
If knowledge of self, discipline, responsibility, purpose and respect for life are planted early enough, perhaps we can help more young people develop the internal discipline necessary to make better choices before consequences begin making choices for them.
That is why Brother Frank believes we must take responsibility for building institutions and educational environments where our children can learn who they are, understand their value and recognize their responsibility to themselves, their families and their communities.
The Prison Ministry: Brotherhood Beyond the Walls
“The NOI Ministry Class back in the early ’90s. I would travel to Cumberland Federal Penitentiary to deliver a message from the Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan to his soldiers in the belly of the beast.” — Brother Frank Muhammad
More than three decades later, the mission of bringing hope, guidance and brotherhood behind prison walls continues.
The Nation of Islam established Nine Ministries designed to address vital needs within our communities. Among that work is the Prison Ministry—a mission that recognizes that incarcerated men and women should not simply be discarded because they are behind a wall.
The work requires brothers and sisters willing to go inside, sit down, listen, teach, encourage and remind incarcerated people that their present circumstances do not have to become their permanent identity.
But the responsibility cannot end when the prison door opens.
One of the most powerful things a person returning home can have is a brotherhood and community prepared to receive them.
A man may have served his sentence, but if he returns to the same conditions, the same hopelessness and the same absence of guidance that contributed to his problems before incarceration, we should not be surprised when the cycle repeats itself.
The objective must be bigger than release.
It must include restoration, responsibility and reintegration.
That means helping returning citizens reconnect with family, employment, education, spiritual development, mentorship and a community that expects something productive from them while also giving them somewhere productive to belong.
This is where a mosque can become more than a building.
It can become a safe place.
It can become a place where a brother who has spent years being identified by an inmate number can once again hear himself called Brother.
A Light in a Dark Place
History teaches us that incarceration does not automatically determine the final chapter of a person's life.
Brother Malcolm X remains one of the clearest examples. Prison became part of his transformation rather than the conclusion of his story. Through study, discipline, faith and exposure to the teachings of The Honorable Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam, he emerged from incarceration on a path that would eventually make him one of the most recognizable Black voices of the 20th century.
His story does not romanticize incarceration. It demonstrates the power of transformation.
Islam has played an important role in the lives of many incarcerated men because faith can provide structure where there has been chaos, discipline where there has been disorder and purpose where hopelessness once existed.
Sometimes the beginning of that transformation is simply another brother walking through the door and saying through his presence: We have not forgotten about you.
That is what makes the work of Brother Anthony Muhammad and Brother Frank Muhammad so important.
They are sacrificing their time, resources and energy to go where many people will not go—to sit with brothers whom society can easily forget.
What If It Were Your Brother?
It is easy to discuss incarceration when the person behind the wall is somebody we do not know.
The conversation changes when it is your son.
Your father.
Your uncle.
Your nephew.
Your Godbrother.
Your friend.
And while accountability for wrongdoing is necessary, accountability and compassion do not have to be enemies. A person can be held responsible for his actions while still being treated as a human being capable of growth, redemption and change.
We also cannot ignore the broader realities surrounding incarceration in Black communities or the generations of families that have been affected by the criminal justice system. But recognizing those realities does not remove our personal responsibility. It increases the importance of building stronger families, stronger institutions and stronger men.
The question cannot only be, “What did this brother do?”
We should also be willing to ask, “What can this brother still become?”
We Cannot Afford to Forget Them
The Prison Ministry represents something much larger than visiting a jail.
It represents our responsibility to one another.
Brother Anthony Muhammad's continued work through Muhammad Mosque No. 4, alongside Brother Frank Muhammad and others committed to this mission, reminds us that ministry must go wherever the people are—even behind steel doors and concrete walls.
Brother Frank's work with young people in Potomac Gardens and his growing involvement with incarcerated men represent two points along the same road: reach our young brothers before they enter the system, but never abandon them if they do.
That is the balance.
Prevention on one end.
Redemption on the other.
And brotherhood throughout the entire journey.
Because when a man has spent months or years surrounded by walls, sometimes one of the most powerful things we can give him is the knowledge that there is still a door waiting to open—and people on the other side prepared to help him walk through it.
One Village, One Fight.
Authentic voices. Real stories. Our community. Our responsibility.
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