“Everything can be fixed”

Munira with Diego Campos

Munira Mendonça was born and raised in California. At 23, she had a really good job, but her boss said, take a year and see the world, and then come back and start. So she went to Europe with her friend, and soon found herself in a small village called Bubion in southern Spain. There she met the father of her children, who had a leather workshop. That was over 40 years ago. Needless to say, she didn’t make it back to CA. 

She and her then husband were raised Catholic – but they were both searchers. And their searching lead them to Islam, and they became Muslim. They moved to Granada, raised four kids, studied Islam, served the community, and constructed a mosque.

In Granada, Munira was awe inspired by Islamic art and motifs. 

It’s where she met Diego Campos Mariscal, who was the last leather tooler in the city. She asked him if he would teach her how to create these beautiful Islamic motifs in leather. He refused, he refused, he refused.

She kept asking, she kept asking, she kept asking …

Until he relented. And he not only taught Munira everything he knew, he became like a father figure to her.

For over 15 years, Munira had a shop that sold the finest leather goods in Granada and a workshop where she designed, crafted and taught. To her team, she would say, “first it’s about dawah (inviting people to share in the beauty of Islam), then it’s about sales.”

When I asked Munira what wisdom she cherishes from an elder, I wasn’t surprised to hear it’s one from Diego, who has since passed away.

“I learned many things from my teacher, Diego Campos, many things about leather and also about life,” she tells me. “But there’s one thing in particular that I’ve kept with me all these years.”

“I was working on a piece – and it was an important piece for me – and I thought I had really made a huge mistake. When I took it to him, he chuckled, as he did – and he said, “Niña (little girl), everything in life can be fixed, except death.”

Until the very very very very last minute you can make a mistake in what you’re making; but it can always be fixed, she says. It’s a wisdom she turns to in work and in life.

“We went on to ‘fix’, my piece, which of course ended up being beautiful. MashAllah.”

Thank you dear Munira for your friendship and love - and for perhaps the most beautiful compliment I’ve ever received. What adventures we’ve shared together - and we’ve only met twice!