The Start Of It All

August 23 2014 was single handedly the worst day of my life. I naturally have a great memory, but every detail about that day has be in grained in my mind forever. It was a Saturday. I was at work. Around noon I received multiple calls and text messages from family asking me to call them as soon as possible. At 1 pm, I got on the phone with one one of my cousins who gave me the horrible news. He was gone. Just like that. My 21 year cousin Jabeir was taken from us in an act of senseless violence. I could feel my heart fall to my stomach. My vision became blurred from the rush of tears that had engulfed my eyes. The nausea kicked in. I dropped to the ground and recited prayer after prayer hoping this was some kind of mistake. He has to survive this. He could survive anything. He was too young. He had his whole life ahead of him. And what about his family? What were they to do. I couldn’t accept it. To this day I have no idea how I drove in that condition, but all I could focus on was how quickly I could get to Ottawa to see his family, and mourn his sudden death. That evening, my cousin and I made that sombre 4 hour drive to his hometown to visit his family. We were greeted by the sounds of loud cries and people everywhere. His youngest sister threw herself into my arms and sobbed like I’d never seen before. It took all my strength to keep it together for her sake, but the pool of tears I left on her hijab said it all. The days following his death were even more difficult. And then there was the funeral. One of my aunts had to tell me to keep my cries low because I was slowly losing control. The day after the funeral we all headed back home, back to our lives, knowing things would never be the same again.

If you’ve ever had the pleasure of being in Jabeir’s presence, you would understand why his funeral was flooded with mourners waiting for the chance to give their final goodbyes. He was the real life depiction of the friendly giant. Standing 6 feet 5 inches tall, and a baby face that barely changed over time, he was always my little big brother. He was one of my biggest supporters and was never shy to tell me he was proud of me, and thought highly of me. He would encourage me to work towards my goals, and even come to me for advice on life. After his passing, I felt lost. Not just for a month or two. But for the years following. I lost my drive and forgot what I was passionate about. I began looking to fill a void, consuming myself with various vices, and incredibly unhealthy relationships. Lying to myself became a regular occurrence.

Near the end of 2017 I had enough. I was certain that the things I had seen and experienced in the past year and a half was the work of the devil. So I decided to confront my demons. Sadly, that had to start with myself. There are people that come into your life as blessings, while others are placed there for lessons. Jabs was one of the greatest people I had ever met and I felt blessed to have him in my life, even if our relationship was cut short. I started to reflect on how much of a positive impact he had on me and my outlook on life. Then I took a moment to think about these other nuisances in my life that managed to steer me off my path, and only made me feel small. I couldn’t let this be my life anymore. Jabs homecoming was not going to be the end of my road. I made a promise to myself, and to him that I would live out my life purpose, and radiate greatness. Contrary to what the demons had planned, I was going to manage my life.

RIP JabzThaGreat & May God have mercy on him