I call him an acquaintance because I think that's what he was to me: an acquaintance. A friend of a friend. Or rather, the son of a friend and mentor. A part of a family I'd seen enough of to feel like I could call him an acquaintance, to feel like I kinda knew him: a little.
To them, he was so much more than that!!
And now he is dead.
Shot. Murdered. Killed. Justlikethat.
Nothing left. No life. No nothing.
What does that even mean??
She is a good woman. A great mother. An awesome mentor and friend.
He taught me in university. I mean, he was one of my most inspiring teachers.
His sister is fun and cool and down-to-earth. Spunky sometimes.
His sons are young and innocent, and probably oblivious to what's going on.
They don't deserve this.
Nobody deserves this.
Snuffed out like it has no value.
What's going on?
Jamaica, seriously, WHAT IS GOING ON?
When is this going to stop?
It keeps getting closer to home.
And you wonder, who next?
My deepest and sincerest condolences to the family, friends and relatives of my acquaintance. I feel deeply for you, and that alone tells me the immeasurable pain and burden that you must carry...
I am sorry. I wish I could bring him back to life. I hope and pray that you all get through this. Somehow.