The line got drawn right then and there, though. In the nicest way possible Sarah said she couldn’t take me along. She didn’t explicitly say why, she was kind about it, but that’s when I realized, oh wait, we aren’t actually friends. She had a job to do, and my presence could impede it.
Sarah never told me the results of her experimental drive, and I didn’t ask. I was too preoccupied because on that same day she came to show me a document she’d found in the police files. It was a document I’d never seen before, one that left my head pounding, my stomach twisted in knots.
It was a cultural research memo, and the name of the person and agency who wrote it was blacked out. I had no idea it existed, but it helped explain much of why the investigation in Hae’s murder focused on Adnan.
Adnan:
At the end of September 2013, I received a brief letter from my attorney. He informed me that he had been contacted by a journalist named Sarah Koenig. She asked him several questions about my case, and they spoke at length. He explained to me that she was interested in investigating the case, and maybe doing a story. He advised me that I could speak with her if I wanted, and he saw no harm in it. He ended his letter by stating his understanding that she would not expend the time and resources to do a story unless she felt I was innocent. I received a letter from Ms. Koenig a day or so later. I did not know at the time, but she mentioned Rabia had reached out to her, and explained everything about the case to her. I was surprised, as Rabia had never mentioned her to me. I guess she figured I would probably say no, like I always had.
Ms. Koenig’s letter was very simple and straightforward: she was considering doing an investigation into my case, and potentially doing a story. But there was no mention of her only doing a story if she thought I was innocent. So I was very confused, and really at a loss for how to proceed. I mean, her letter was very self-explanatory, but contrast it with my attorney’s. She stated she wanted to review the case, but my attorney indicated she would not do anything unless she thought I was innocent … Two entirely different things. At least to me, anyway. I had no idea what to do. On the one hand, I had always been opposed to Rabia’s suggestions of going to the media. I had been telling her no for years. And beyond making Rabia mad, I realized how hurtful it was to her. To want to help me any way she could, and I always refused. I guess she finally just went ahead and did it.
But from my attorney’s letter, I have to prove to Ms. Koenig that I am innocent. Which I cannot do. So now I am heading back to a place I never wanted to revisit. And that is to be in the untenable position of having to prove to someone that I did not do something, that I did not do, and no one proved that I did it anyway.
To be honest, I did not really expect Ms. Koenig to do much. I figured she would just read the files and do a brief story or whatever. And that would be it. I thought I might have to answer a list of questions. I had no idea what my participation would entail, and I was not really looking forward to speaking with her.
But when I spoke to Rabia about it, she explained that this was what we had been waiting for. She told me that she had been working on this for a while, and that we were at a point where we had nothing to lose. The thing I remember the most is how Rabia constantly said, “we,” as if she were in here with me. She has always said that, and it is something that has stuck with me throughout all these years. As I listened to Rabia, I realized I had no choice but to do it. Even if that meant having to go through all that stuff all over again.
Rabia mentioned that maybe this was God’s Help that I had been waiting for. And I had not really thought about it that way. I was just thinking about the negatives this experience would have in store for me. Initially, I was hoping that maybe Ms. Koenig would find something that would prove my innocence. But I had been disappointed so many times before, that I did not really have high expectations. More importantly, I did not know how to respond to her. What to say in a reply letter? Maybe she was a crime reporter who had seen it all, and believed everyone says they’re innocent. Also, I have no piece of evidence which proved my innocence. Maybe some things that make the State’s case look weak, but nothing else. So what do I do? The only thing I have ever been able to hang onto and no one can disprove is that I never had any animosity towards Hae, and that I cared about her deeply. That was all I had. So I prayed about it, and that was what I wrote to her about. And that was the point where my past emotional insecurities returned.
Was she going to think I was trying to manipulate her by lying about Hae, and how I felt about her? Maybe Ms. Koenig would believe that I selected this topic in order to tug at her heart strings. Or maybe it was because our friendship was the only thing incontrovertible at trial. The State had never been able to even offer any evidence to contradict that. I do not know, it was just that everything came back, about how nobody believed me. Maybe she would be the same, and I was not eager about opening up to someone who was going to think I was just trying to manipulate her. So now I am kind of paralyzed with uncertainty. If I do not write her, I am letting Rabia down. But if I do write her, I am risking going back to that place. I did not really know what to do. So I prayed for guidance, and the next day I just wrote the letter and put it in the mail. I did not know what Ms. Koenig’s reaction would be; but if nothing else, I have honored the obligation I had to Rabia. And if she were to think I was trying to manipulate her, well, there was nothing I could do about that.
So now it was out of my hands. I was done, and I just had to wait and see what happened. Secretly, I hoped she would not reply, and that would be the end of it. But then she wrote me back, and requested that I call her. I was fairly nervous at that point, as I really did not know what type of person she was. Maybe she would not give me a fair chance. I had no idea if she was a genuine person. More importantly, now I had to figure out how to deal with her.
See, in prison, I have learned that you cannot be yourself with everybody, because it may come back to hurt you. You cannot be generous with everyone, because some people will take advantage of you. You cannot be friendly with everybody, because it may cause you to lose respect in the sight of others. You cannot take the high road in all confrontations because some people will see it as an invitation to harm you. You have to approach every interaction with correct perspective. If you are in a cell with somebody, you may not be able to share your property with him (food, hygiene, etc.) because he may take advantage of it. If you are working with someone, you cannot joke around with him because it may cause problems when you are trying to be serious. If someone disrespects you, you cannot always walk away because it may be taken as a sign of weakness. Knowing the correct perspective has nothing to do with getting anything in return; rather, it is about protecting yourself when dealing with people who have the potential to harm you. And it is not just in prison, but in the outside world, too. And what I have learned is that whatever perspective you decide on, it is important to be consistent. To change the course once you set on it can have a bad effect.
So when I met Ms. Koenig, I had to decide what perspective was the correct one to take with her. Essentially, how to protect myself. Do I try to explain everything in my case that I think is wrong? Because that makes sense. The problem with that was it opens the door for me to be accused of manipulating or misleading her. And I do not want to experience that again. On the other hand, I could just remain quiet and simply answer her questions, and hope and pray she would come to find out those things for herself. I mean, everything is in the case; it is in the interviews and the transcripts. There’s nothing I know that is not already in there. And I have always felt confident that if someone unbiased took a look, they would find the same troubling discrepancies. But I would be taking a risk that maybe she might miss these things. So I did not know how to protect myself with her. I prayed about it, and I decided to choose the latter approach. That I would just be as honest with her as possible in answering her questions, and hope she would see the things that I felt were not right, on her own.
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br /> I also decided that I did not want to do anything that could even remotely seem like I was trying to befriend or curry favor with her. Initially, I never addressed her by her first name, even though she asked me to on several occasions. I only called her at the times she instructed me to. I only wrote her when she would send me a letter. Other than a perfunctory “How are you?” I never inquired about her personally. And whenever she asked me how I was, I would always reply with, “I’m fine, thank you.” That way I was not being personal with her. I did not want her to ever be able to accuse me of trying to ingratiate myself with her, or manipulate her. And I really tried to stick to that.
But she consistently tried to establish a rapport with me each time I called. She would always ask how I was doing, and inquire more. She would share little random things with me about her day, work, maybe what she ate for lunch. I realized that this was probably her interview style. That maybe the easiest way to get someone to open up would be to establish a familiarity. Which in turn would make a person more comfortable with opening up. She was a very kind person and seemed very compassionate. But it became very stressful, because I had every intent to be as honest with her as possible. There was no need for any strategy on her part; I just wanted to answer her questions and be done with it. And perhaps it is unfair to call it a strategy, as that may infer a negative connotation. Like I said, she is a very kind person, and I mistook her kindness to be something else. It caused me a great deal of anxiety, as I felt that I was not being true to my principles regarding how I treat people.
I had spent all these years trying to be personable towards others. But to be in a position where I am constantly speaking with someone who is kind enough to share all these things with me, and I cannot reciprocate that kindness? Because I am afraid of being accused of trying to manipulate her; I cannot ask how she is doing, or about her day. And it really hit me hard one day when she asked me why I would always reply, “I’m fine, thank you” whenever she inquired about my well-being. I felt I was being terribly rude to her, and ungrateful. It seemed as if it did not matter to me that she cared enough to ask how I was. One time, she shared with me that she had recently experienced the loss of a family member. It was heartbreaking to hear the grief in her voice, but I was afraid to express my sympathies to her because I did not want to appear as if I had an ulterior motive. I could not change my approach; my life in prison had taught me to be consistent. I mean, it was a horrible feeling. Can you imagine what it is like to be afraid to show compassion to someone out of fear that you would not be believed? Especially when that someone has been nothing but compassionate with you? She had exhibited a great deal of kindness to me, and I was afraid to treat her the same. I was so ashamed of myself at that time.
I just tried to be as honest with her as possible and I prayed that she would come to learn those things about my case. And she did. She even learned some things that I did not know. There was nothing huge, no smoking-gun. But they are things that I believe strengthen my claims of innocence. Facts and evidence that should exist if I had truly committed this crime; they were not there. And there were facts and evidence that further discredited the State’s case and theory. And I was grateful for that. Because it was all in the transcripts, interviews & tapes. I did not need to point her towards anything. Like I said, I have always believed that a person could find these things out for themselves. She arrived at all her conclusions on her own. It had nothing to do with me. And no one could ever accuse me of manipulating her into any of that.
At least, I thought so up until the day when I asked her about what made her decide to do the story. She had been pretty clear with me that she could not say I was innocent. To the contrary, the tone and content of most of her questions led me to believe she felt that I was lying about many things. But the words from my attorney’s letter always stayed in my mind; that she would not do the story unless she thought I was innocent. So I figured she decided to do the story because of Hae, or because the case appeared to be very wrong. But she responded that it was because of me, and that it seemed like I was a good person. And that it was difficult to reconcile the person she had spent so many hours interviewing with the person who committed this heinous crime.
To hear this was very frustrating, because it took me right back to square one. Instead of me being accused of manipulating her through the case, now I am going to be accused of being manipulative in my personal interactions with her. Which I tried to limit anyway, and I never intended to have and specifically sat out trying to avoid. And I got pretty upset when she said that. And I realize this all may sound incredibly ridiculous. Or even make me sound crazy. And maybe I am crazy. But it was so frustrating, because no matter what I do, or how many safeguards I install, I can never protect myself from being accused of manipulating someone. No matter how hard I try, or how careful I am. Also, because I’m just tired of hearing people say similar things to me. That they do not know why I am in prison, because I am such a nice guy. Guards say it, other prisoners say it. Granted, they do not know the details of my case, but still. I just wish someone would say its because of the faulty evidence, and not because of me. And I realize it makes me sound like an idiot to say that, because I should be grateful for anyone to feel that they do not believe I could commit such a heinous crime.
So now I am stressed out and just waiting for this whole interview process to be over. The very thing I have worked on all these years (just trying to be a good person) and the very thing I’ve always tried to avoid (being accused of manipulative behavior) have now had a cosmic collision. I am now going to be accused of demonstrating good behavior to manipulate Ms. Koenig. No matter what I do, it is as if I can never escape this. By then, I am just waiting for her to tell me we are done, and I can finally tell you I did my best. And at that point, it didn’t matter to me how her story portrayed me. Guilty or innocent; I would just be glad to be done with the whole thing.
Can you imagine what it’s like to never be able to be intuitive about the most important thing in your life? I could never just talk about my case with Ms. Koenig. I had to always analyze and evaluate every response I gave her, because I felt she had a general disposition to believe I was never telling the truth. It took me a long time to rid that of myself in my personal life. Prison really helped that. But I can never get rid of it when it comes to talking about my case. I am always overthinking, analyzing what I say and how it sounds. And all this thinking is not for personal gain. It is to protect myself from being hurt. Not from being accused of Hae’s murder, but from being accused of being manipulative. And I know it seems crazy, but I cannot control how I feel. And it is so frustrating to know that what you’re feeling is crazy but there is nothing you can do about it.
Ms. Koenig had no way of knowing, but she set the tone for me to experience this with one of the first questions she ever asked me. She stated that she had watched the video of my first trial, and she saw me sitting at the defense table during a break in proceedings. I was reading a small book, and she asked me what it was. I told her it was a Quran my dad had sent me. She next asked if I was reading it to make the Judge think I was religious? That triggered something in me, a hopeless feeling that I would never be able to convince her I was innocent.
I will always be grateful for the compassionate manner she demonstrated towards me. As I mentioned before, she never articulated to me her belief that I was innocent. To the contrary, I always felt she believed I had some involvement in Hae’s murder. But she was always very kind to me, and I guess that caused me to respect and appreciate her even more, as a person …
It is not that I do not care if people believe I am innocent or not. It is just that I cannot let it affect me. When I was younger, it caused me a great deal of emotional distress to feel that everyone believed I committed this crime. Eventually, I realized I could not continue to be miserable anymore, as it was beginning to crush my spirit. I had to learn that it was destructive to allow other people’s opinions to have an
influence over me. It took a long while, but I was finally able to reach a point where I was not concerned with people’s opinions of my innocence or guilt. I realized the emphasis must be placed on fighting my case in the proper arena. And I am grateful that God allowed me to develop that insight, because it has helped sustain me till today.
CHAPTER 9
FIFTH COLUMN
Islam began as something strange,
and it will return to being something strange,
so give glad tidings to the strangers.
Prophet Muhammad, Sahih Muslim
As of the spring of 2014, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been left breathless by this case: when Adnan was arrested, when he was convicted, when he was sentenced, when he lost the post-conviction appeal, and when I read this cultural research memo. I scanned a paragraph, scanned another, deciding one portion was definitely the worst and then thinking, no, no, this other part is much, much worse. It was all so bad, just so very awful.
Sarah sat across the desk, looking at me expectantly, blinking every so often as I involuntarily made sounds, shook my head, uttered expletives. She looked a bit nervous.
I felt Dana Chivvis, a producer from This American Life, hovering somewhere in the room and I knew there was a microphone in the small space, pointed at me. But all I could see was that stupid, sick memo.
“Who the fuck wrote this?!”
Sarah and Dana exchanged looks. They had redacted the information at the top of the document; big thick black lines crossed out the name and address of whatever entity had produced it. That enraged me further.
“The woman who wrote it, she was scared, she didn’t want anyone to know she wrote it, so I promised her I would keep her information confidential.”
I wasn’t pleased.
“Scared of what?”
Sarah hesitatingly admitted the writer was scared of retribution by the Muslim community.
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