Readers often classify books according to the effect that the writing has on them. Some books are your comfort reads; they take you into a world of simplicity and familiarity. Then there are those that rip through whatever preconceived notion of reality you hold dear. Such books create chaos and unrest, followed by a tornado of ideas birthing, ideals shattering, giving way to something new. Ta-Nehisi Coates` book The Message, intended for his students, is a call to arms for anyone who believes in the power of stories and the written word.

The Message is a book that advocates action.

Coates begins by reminding us of the significance of language and the duties that fall upon the shoulders of a writer. There is purpose behind every story, a certain framing that goes into propelling the narrative forward. Writers are, in part, `mapmakers`; in order to connect to their reader, they must demonstrate clarity of purpose and direction.

What follows is freedom from `biased curation` of powerful influences, always preying, waiting to dismantle any narrative that may try to threaten their definition of the status quo. This sets the stage for what is to come: a no-holds barred introspection into ideals held dear and a future where these are challenged.

Coates travels to Senegal, where he encounters the `syllabus of white supremacy`, the work of men who were not only anthropologists but also slaveholders, who `profited from the trade and labour of the people [they] enslaved and then profited again by [their] chosen field of study.

Like a surgeon about to perform a complex procedure, Coates uses his scalpel with clinical accuracy as he describes the insecurity of people who attain power through violent means but seek to justify that violence by any means necessary.

His scalpel slices through the skin and fat that rests below till he reaches the diseased organ and explores the root cause of the infection: a weaponised history, one that the coloniser propagates to create a disgustingly false chasm between the `savages` they subjugate and themselves, the `civilised race Coates is amazed by the liberating nonchalance of the people in Dakar, as they lead their daily lives without the need to carry the burden of caution. Most poignant perhaps is his observation as he sits with like minded people he meets in Senegal: `I knew slavery and Jim Crow, and they knew conquest and colonialism. And we were joined by an inescapable act: the first word written on the warrant of plunder is Africa.

There is a sense of deep understanding as one reaches the end of this essay. Coates` words convey much more than what appears on paper, a deep camaraderie that exists amongst all nations that were once subject to that common trauma of colonialism.

Coates` passion for the written word stems from the encouragement he received from his parents. However, despite his immense love of learning, Coates describes his struggles as a student. He asks his reader what we think should be the point of learning? Is it to create straight-A students whose purpose of studying is to ace tests, quizzes, etc? The education system has created a `receive, memorise and repeat` methodof providing education.

Critical thinking is simply not a priority and, in fact, as Coates discovers, it is actively discouraged when he finds out his own work faces a possible ban in Columbia, South Carolina in 2020. He underlines the fear felt by those who seek to ban books in the clearest way possible: `The danger we present as writers, is not that we will simply convince their children of a different dogma but that we will convince them to form their own.

Pakistan faces similar challenges. Parents, school boards or governments that promote banning of books, seek to control the transformative power of the written word, so they can manipulate it to promote false narratives. Coates explains how censorship seeks to create boundaries for the imagination, the depth of questions and critical thinking of future writers.

He begins the final part of his book in Palestine.

The Israel-Palestine issue, as addressed on TV in America, has been one of complexity, to be discussed by mostly white editors, journalists and correspondents. For the public though, there is a steady dose of comforting phrases to consume about Israel: `only democracy in the Middle East`, `Jewish democracy`, and the oftrepeated `right to defend itself.Coates takes us with him to Palestine, to see for himself how complex the situation really is. This part of the book is the most painful yet powerful one. The clarity that he aims for in his writing and in his thought-process is most evident here, where he witnesses the systemic destruction of an entire people. From the smallest and most basic requirement for any human being, the ability to walk on roads, to get from one point to another, is denied to an entire population.

Coates witnesses the weaponising of time by using checkpoints to delay, restrict and deny the right to movement. The shock that he feels is visible, palpable and I am immediately reminded of Adania Shibli, the Palestinian writer who, in her book Minor Detail, writes: `While in principle the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, in practice I cannot chart a course like that, not because the roads aren`t straight but because, as several maps confirm, there are at least two checkpoints on the shortest route leading to Yafa.` She continues to write about the ordeal of a Palestinian woman living under occupation.

There is an intensity with which Coates writes as he encounters Palestinian writers and activists.

He witnesses the open theft of Palestinian land resources, their time, and even their stories to create Israeli narratives of bravado `We were here first` that claim of ancestry. He reminds himself of the responsibility he bears as a writer.

Coates identifies the sinister pattern of imperial dominance.

He laments the betrayal of journalists who continue to frame the issue as one having `both sides.` He writes: `When you are erased from the argument and purged from the narrative, you do not exist.` Here Coates` words fly like sharp daggers: `I would sooner hear the defence of cannibalism than I would hear any brief for what I saw with my own eyes in Hebron.

His interaction with the various systems of occupation and subjugation practised by Israel as state policy leave him with no doubts: he is witnessing segregation and apartheid. Coates writes about the state of Israel, that it is `a democracy for the Jewish people alone.

He reflects on those within the Israeli people who seem to be waking up to this reality, that perhaps they really aren`t the ultimate victims like Americans who lived four years and now will live another four under Trump, who keep telling themselves this is not who they are, but there are those who `suspect that it is America, and there is a great pain in understanding that, without your consent, you are complicit in a great crime, in learning that the whole game was rigged in your favour, that there are nations within your nation who have spent all of their collective lives in the Trump years.

Coates` writing is forceful and relentless as he sheds layers of denial and self-delusion. As a reader, you will feel the outrage as Coates` analysis hits home.

Ta-Nehisi Coates will make you fall in love with the exercise of writing and protecting your authenticity. He will encourage you to value lived experiences, to never compromise on binary scenarios. To feel the anguish in literature and write with clarityto convey that very moment of comprehension that fuels the fire of ideas.

The Message will make you see that all those campus protests demanding divestment from Israel, despite being crushed, were not in vain. They served their purpose and disrupted the narrative of the coloniser. Conversations and questions that were inconceivable are becoming louder and so the occupier must strike harder to force submission.

As comedian and political commentator Trevor Noah said in his podcast with Coates, `if you remove the accolades, if you remove your words, if you remove the publishing house, if you remove the smartness, if you remove everything we know about Ta-Nehisi Coates, that book would fit in the backpack of somebody who truly sees other people as human beings first and foremost.

The reviewer is a free lance writer with a background in law and literature. X: @ShehryarSahar