In London he is known as Abdullah el-Faisal, a 39-year-old black Muslim cleric who was imam at a Mosque in Brixton and who has been convicted of inciting followers to kill Christians, Hindus, Jews and Americans.

He was tried, and convicted, under the obscure British law, which has not been used for a century, for soliciting murder against persons unknown and for inciting racial hatred. When he is sentenced this coming Friday, Abdullah el-Faisal could be sent to jail for life.

In the small, farming community of Point in rural St James, very few persons make a connection between el-Faisal and their community. They, however, know of Trevor Forrest, the boy who grew up in a Salvation Army home, sang on the junior choir and was a member of the boy scouts. At Maldon Secondary School, everyone accepted that young Forrest was bright and purposeful. He became deputy headboy and most people expected him to do well in life.

No one expected, least of all the Forrest family, that this boy, who schoolmates called “Dictionary” because of his fondness for big words, would be recalled because of a notoriety that would turn the spotlight on their community.

The Forrests, it seems, are ordinary, well-adjusted Jamaican country folk. Mother Merlyne led the senior choir and conducted evening service in the community’s Salvation Army church whenever the minister was absent. Sister Yvonne now works at a distribution company at the Montego Bay Free Zone. Younger brother Marshall is a police constable stationed at August Town, who wanted to be like Trevor when they were growing up.

“I was really surprised when I heard about (his run-in with the law), knowing the kind of person he was,” said Yvonne last week of the brother she has not seen or heard from since 1990 when he last came to Jamaica for a family wedding.

“He was never violent.. He wasn’t one who liked to fight or even to quarrel. So I was very surprised to hear.”

It was the teachings of Islam that “drove him to do this”, she said.

In fact, in the early days, Marshall, who too, became deputy headboy at Maldon, wanted to be like his brother.

“We were close growing up,” Marshall said of their early relationship. “I admired him a lot. I emulated him.”

But Trevor Forrest’s life – and relations with the Forrest household – began to change about the time he turned 15-16.

It was at that time, according to Stanley Buddle, a retired headmaster of Maldon Secondary, that the young Forrest was introduced to Islam by a teacher at the school whose surname was McFarlane. His first name could not be recalled, but he was known as “Jolly”.

“Jolly” McFarlane later emigrated to the United States, but by then had given up Islam, those who remember him say. But young Trevor Forrest was getting deeper and deeper in the religion.

“At the time of graduation (in 1980) he was already a Muslim because one of the teachers down there got him in,” said mother, Merlyne, 64. “When I found out, is like he was so far gone into it because he didn’t tell me anything.”

According to Merlyne, her son would have kept his conversion from her because he would have known that she would have objected.

“He was born a Salvationist,” she said. “I have been a Salvationist ever since I was a child. So I don’t think he would think I would agree to him going to join that church (Islam).”

She found out about his conversion when “one evening I came home and I saw some pamphlets”.

Trevor attempted to convert other family members, but had no success.

“He kept reading about Islam and he got deeper and deeper into it,” Marshall explained. “He’s a firm believer in all he does. He loves his religion but I don’t know him to be a malicious person.”

No one at Point who remembers him does. Neither do his former teachers.

But as he went deeper into the Islam faith, Trevor at first went off to a Muslim summer camp in Westmoreland, although it was not immediately clear who organised this. Later he went on a course to Guyana, before emigrating to Britain in the 1980s, then heading to Saudi Arabia for seven years to train in Islamic studies.

An eloquent speaker who is fluent in Arabic, Forrest eventually ended up in London where he shared his Muslim beliefs with anyone who would listen. He became imam of the mosque in Brixton, a South London neighbourhood with a heavy black population. By this time, Trevor Forrest had transformed into Abdullah el-Faisal.

He wrote books on the Muslim faith, distributed video and audio tapes of his sermons.

Among those who are believed to have attended el-Faisal’s mosque and listened to his teachings are the shoe-bomber, Richard Reid – a London-born man with a Jamaican father who had, on a flight from Paris to New York, attempted to explode a bomb hidden in his sneakers.

Then last February, in a still jittery post-September 11 world, el-Faisal was arrested after being accused of stirring up racial hatred and urging his followers to commit murder.

During his London trial, which ended last Monday, the jury was shown a videotape of el-Faisal addressing a study group not long after the September 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States, contending that it was the duty of Muslim women to bring up their sons with a ‘holy war’ mentality.

He also promised that teenage Muslim boys who died as religious martyrs would be rewarded in paradise with 72 virgins and prosecutors said that he encouraged British Muslims to attend terrorist training camps in Afghanistan.

“You have to learn to fly planes, drive tanks and you have to learn how to load your guns and to use missiles,” el-Faisal said in one taped recording that was played during his trial.

Yet, brother Marshall, who got word of Trevor’s legal troubles five months after his arrest, appeared sceptical that his sibling is guilty of anything more than proslytising.

Marshall, who made clear that he does not advocate or support violence of any sort, said: “Christians, Hindus, Buddhists preach about what they believe in and that’s what he was doing, preaching about what he believes in.”

He is concerned about the issue of freedom of speech and freedom of religion, and suggested that someone as zealous as his brother could easily become a target.

“I know he is a firm believer, he believes in everything he does 100 per cent,” Marshall Forrest said. “I know he loves his religion deeply but I don’t know of him to be the type of person who is malicious against someone else. They say he is guilty. But we all understand that from the September 11 situation people are very speculative about anything or anybody who might seem to be a Muslim, and if one is active in terms of speaking about the belief, they probably would be cited as pro-terrorist.”

In any event, Marshall said that his brother made a clear choice about his own life, and would not want anyone, including his family, to be sorry for him, whatever the consequences of his choice.

“I am concerned, yes, but my brother is a firm believer in whatever he does,” said Marshall. “He would not want me to be sorry for him, that’s his mentality.”

Added Marshall: “He is my brother. I love him dearly. We were very close, but he chose his way of life, I chose mine. He is a Muslim, I am a Christian. Both of us have our end result, our reward. So whatever happens I am sure he’s going take it as a man. I am not going to be weak and worry about him.”

Curiously, mother Merlyne could not find a picture of her eldest son anywhere in the modest home she shares with her husband, Lorenzo, 80, her daughter and a handful of grandchildren.

She wouldn’t mind seeing Trevor again. She would even welcome him if he was sent back to Jamaica but would want him to change his religion.

She said: “I wouldn’t mind seeing him – I wouldn’t mind it. I hope he would change his way of life. Maybe he wouldn’t but he can’t indoctrinate me still. He tried but he couldn’t manage me. But he is my child, so he could come home.”