Sniper and Shaka

One of the most special experiences I've had out here so far ironically occurred at one of my reggae jam nights. When I first got to San Diego, I went to a party and met a guy who is an editor at a fashion and music magazine, a soccer player and a reggae DJ. Since first meeting Beau, I have been introduced to a plethora or reggae spots as well as the temporary soccer gig I have now retired from.

On a particular night at one jam sess, I met a group of guys who were all of African descent. A couple of them were Ethiopian and the other Kenyan. Come to find out, the Kenyan was actually Somalian, but like being from Tibet vs. Nepal, he lives in an Somalian village located in Kenya. As I began talking to the guys, I noticed one member of the group in a wheelchair off in the corner sitting independently doing very much his own thing. Having one of my best friends in a chair, I have enormous compassion for these people and their ambition to never settle for a different lifestyle. I took it upon myself to go introduce myself to him. He introduced himself as 'Sniper' which I believe to be a nickname. We got to talking, and after I explained to him my experience with Rebecca, he began to open up to me about his paralyzation. Long story short, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, got into a fight and was stabbed in the abdomen. The attacker slashed his midsection open severing his nerves. This was only last February. He agonized to me about the constant pain he still feels piercing down his left leg and how the intensity of it keeps him in his house the majority of his newly handicapped life. This particular night was only one of a handful Sniper has been out on the town since his incident.

As the night progressed I continued to jam. Not long after having a great meeting with Sniper, a second man in a chair rolled into the bar, straight the the dance floor and posted himself just behind--still in perfect view of the DJ. Naturally I made my way over, introduced myself and met 'Shaka'. 'Jah Shaka' to be correct. Completely opposite from Sniper, Shaka has been in a chair his entire life. What a dichotomy between the two men. I pointed Sniper out to Shaka and mentioned that, no pressure, it would be cool if he introduced himself to Sniper. Sure enough, Shaka rolled right over, and the connection began. By the end of the night the were shooting the shit, trading numbers, and hopefully a new friendship.

As I went to leave the bar, Sniper politely asked me if there was any way I could give him and his friend Joore a ride back to his house. It was only around the corner, and he didn't feel like wheeling back. Fair enough. Once I arrived to his house and became abreast of his living situation, I realized exactly why Sniper asked for the help. Joore and I got him out of Cherry, into his chair and to the bottom of a flight of stairs. His daily life was slamming me in the face like a deer in headlights. 'No wonder he barely gets out,' I thought. 'How can he with these stairs?' On the drive to his house I learned he lived with his mother. Thank the spirit above for that. Although, once I encountered her and the stairs, I can only mourn Sniper's daily struggles. Joore and I hoisted the six-foot-something Sniper over our shoulders and trekked him up the stairs and onto the couch. His mother stood at the door, completely covered and only revealing a strip of skin at her eyes. She is a practicing Ethiopian Muslim. I could only begin to fathom what turn of events transpired when she learned that her son was at a party, got into a fight, stabbed and taken to the hospital with the lost function of both his legs. HEAVY.

Upon leaving I gave Sniper my number. I assured him that if he ever needed anything at all please never hesitate to call me. The next morning both he and Joore sent me a thank-you text. I feel like that night was a great night of positivity and spiritual karma for me. Having an experience like that makes my heart so full for everyone with a disability. They are truly heroes in my life.

Blessed love to all!

Brett