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  • Serikali ya Jina: Kenneth Key
  • Idadi kujiandikisha: A70562
  • Umri:57
  • Muda aliwahi:33 miaka
  • Nyumbani Town:Chicago, IL
  • Sentence:888 miaka (Natural Life)
  • Sasa Mfawidhi:Armed Robbery, Utekaji nyara
  • Alias:Blue & Ananyah Ben Yisrael
  • Kutolewa Tarehe:N /
  • Gerezani Maegemeo:N /
  • Mzunguko wa Ushawishi:Jamel Miller
  • Taasisi:Stateville Correctional Center
  • You will rise in direct proportion to the decrease in your negative thoughts, words and actions

Dealing With Death in Prison: When it All Hits You at Once


The worst news anyone can wake up to in prison is the death of his mother. My mother died on June 30, 2016. And to top it off, I did not learn of her death through the prison administration. Nope, hakuwa na kutokea kwa njia hiyo! Kitu aliniambia kuwaita mwanamke ambaye amekuwa katika maisha yangu miaka ishirini na mimi kufikiria mke wangu. Bila mimi kujua, yeye alikuwa kwenye njia yake ya gerezani, Njia yeye ina inaendeshwa wengi, mara nyingi zaidi ya miaka. She almost lost her life in several near-miss accidents and now she was lost and confused trying to get here. She received a text message from my brother, “Mother has passed. Let Kenny and Michael (my son) know.I’m paraphrasing, but it was as cold as that. I never got that visit. She was too shaken, waliopotea, and simply returned home.

My son and I were not allowed to participate or give any parting words in her obituary. Ndiyo, we were buried with her as well. There was no mention of her son or her only grandson who I knew she loved beyond words. Obviously driven by hatred in the hearts of others, no doubt we were not included because of me.

Why am I sharing this? Because I don’t want to be here, and I have to experience the pain, the anger and the hurt that my son and I have had to go through.

I shared in a previous post that I am just as responsible for my mother’s death as the ills that eventually led to her passing. Over the years my decisions resulted in worry and stress for my mother. Even when I was used by a system that set me up for failure at an early age, all contributing factors. It all took a toll on my mother, and it will take a toll on your mother and others who love you if you continue to live life on the edge in the streets.

When your mom is gone your world will change bruh. I was estranged from my mother, not by choice, but by other influences. It really prepared me to deal with her death. Kwa nini? The influence had already entombed her, cut her off from me and my son. No communication. No visits. Hakuna. I never knew if she received my cards or letters. Kwa kuwa waaminifu, these outside influences buried me as well the day they cut me off from her. Who knows if my mother still knew I was alive. Hatred will make you do some unfathomable things, especially when money, property and material gain are the motivation. The influences and enablers can be seen early on. The influences became as criminal as the most icily ever known walk to the tunnels of Stateville Correctional Center.

Be careful. Love your mothers. Strengthen your bond. Hold them up high. Sit down and have a conversation with them. As I write this now, a letter comes to mind I wrote my mother a while back. I doubt she ever got it. I’d like to share it with you. Had I been given the opportunity to say something in the obituary, it would have been this letter.

Dear mother,

I know it has been a long time since I have put into words your value to my life, but believe me it is not because I have forgotten.

Everyday when the sun rises I thank Yah (Mungu) for you, and I recognize that you are the miracle. It is the mother’s love that is unconditional. It was this love that formed families and brought about civilizations. It was that love I now realize you were giving, teaching, showing, that we in turn someday would impart to others.

I smile with gratitude when I think of all the sacrifices you made on my behalf. I watched you come home from work exhausted yet still do dishes, still set our home in order, and still do everything possible to hold this family together.

When the world turned against us and father found refuge in oblivion, you shouldered the weight, persevering abandonment, self doubt, indigence, bigotry, and all of the evils that challenge human dignity. You were and are my strength and foundation. “The bitter cold of the streets is no place for you Kenny,” you’d always say, “Be careful of your company.You said that time will tell a friend, but I din’t know it would be only you until the prison gate slammed. Still believing. still encouraging. Still loving unconditionally.

I apologize for every tear I didn’t understand the meaning of. In ignorance, I took everything for granted. You taught me values yet I did not always live up to them. You shaped my character, and I pretended to not have any. You overlooked my shortcomings, while I held you accountable. You gave me unconditional love. Love that empowered and enabled me to overcome all of life’s challenges. For that, I am forever grateful.

Thank you mother, Bi. Judy muhimu. May you rest in peace knowing that each day I wake, I wake to service and to challenge lives of young men so that they will not sit where I sit and have to experience what I and so many others have experienced. And in some small way I try to share the love you taught me to have for others.

I want all of you to know there is no love like a mother’s love. Don’t ever take that for granted.

I know that everyone processes the passing of a loved one differently, but the death of a loved one is not something you want to deal with in prison. Your pain in the open among those who prey upon weakness. To have no family is one thing, but to have family and be cut off is a horse of a different color.

We have to honor our mothers while they are alive.

Why don’t you take a moment while she’s alive to write a letter to your moms. Share it with me if you like. Who knows maybe we could even post it.

Learning how to forgive is another thing we have to do and move on or that which we hold on to will be the anchor that holds us in place, stagnant, and eventually drowning in our emotions.

The best revenge is to #raiseup from a situation and become powerful. Redirect that energy toward success. It’s one of the reasons I began to write.

Understanding words are relative to the spirit you give them.

I am also reminded of the words of a great author who simply stated, ” Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” – James Baldwin

And so I wirte, realizing that as Muhammad Ali (may he Rest In Peace) alisema, “Service is the rent we pay for the privilege of living on earth.

This is real life. The perils of living in prison.

It’s my prayer these writings are of some help and the brothers who share their regrets na messages click.

Michael is 31-years-old and 3 1/2 years in on a 55-year bid. Biggest regret: Being in prison unable to support his mother and children. Message: Invest in yourself instead of street activity, for there is much more in life you could take advantage of. Find a church to volunteer your time. If you see something that need to be done, do it. You never know who is watching. Hebu fikiria, a hiring manager, a company owner is somewhere at church as well.

Brother Cordell is 42-years-old with 22-years served on LIFE plus eight. Biggest Regret: Being in prison is lost time I can’t get back. My optimism tells me without some change and the intervention of incarceration my path was DEATH IN THE STREETS. Message: Prepare yourself for what you don’t see or know. Know the people around you from the viewpoint of understanding adversity and how to work through it with strength of purpose and conviction. May you/we all be guided right.


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