TRIBUTE TO NAFES
In my leadership class today, the narcotics department of Philadelphia police gave a sobering presentation on the devastating effects of drug addiction. We were taken, by graphic photos, stark stats, and stirring testimonies, to places of absolute ruin, violence, and loss. A mom shared about losing her 15-year-old daughter to a heroin overdose. The presenter told story after story of friends getting high together, one person OD'ing, and the others, for fear of getting in trouble, dumping the body in a park rather than call the police or rush to the hospital. There was a slide show of collapsed veins, heads shot through in drug-related violence, and pretty teens whose appearances deteriorated to the point of non-recognition in the space of a few years of an addiction.
One of the pictures they showed in this one-hour presentation was of Nafes Johnson, who was killed in the middle of a drug-related crossfire a few years ago while he was driving kids from his church youth group home after a meeting. He was 20 when he was killed. No one should die at that age, especially not someone as talented and as good-hearted as Nafes. He was a minister and an entrepreneur. And he was my friend.
I had met him during his participation in another youth entrepreneurship program in Philadelphia. I kept in touch with him, as he grew as a business person and as a young adult. He attended one of our business camps, and received a Young Entrepreneur of the Year awards at one of our end-of-year banquets. Then, he graduated from high school, and began to work full-time for this other youth entrepreneurship program. Since our two programs collaborated on a lot of initiatives, Nafes and I would see each other at various functions. I made an effort to keep in touch with him, in hopes of serving as a positive role model and coach in his life, but in my mind, I felt I had much more to learn from him than he from me.
One day, I was near his office, and something entered my mind to stop by and see him. It was an ordinary work day. We had no event coming up, nothing specific we needed to talk about. But I visited anyway, just to say hi. He appreciated the gesture. And I appreciated the fact that we had enough of a relationship that I didn't need a reason to see him, that it was enough to simply say, "I just wanted to see you." We spoke for a few minutes, and then I was on my way. For some reason, as I walked back to my office, I felt a sense of satisfaction for having seen him, like it was important that I do that.
That was the last time I saw Nafes alive. The story broke over the weekend. I heard the name first, and then I saw the picture to confirm that it was indeed the Nafes Johnson that I knew. It is true for all young people that they don't deserve to die so young, that it is a terrible shame. But Nafes really was special. It is a travesty that drugs, which are no respecter of persons, would take from our community such a promising young leader as Nafes Johnson.
Then, as now, I hated the existence of things like narcotics and addiction and guns. They are a dark stain that has caused our city much expense, grief, and, and loss. And, today in my leadership class, I was reminded that they took away someone who I considered a friend to me and a beacon to our community. Nafes, I'm sorry that the world is so corrupt that it would take your life at such a young age over an argument over drugs and money. I can't wait to see you again in heaven, where such injustices do not exist.
In my leadership class today, the narcotics department of Philadelphia police gave a sobering presentation on the devastating effects of drug addiction. We were taken, by graphic photos, stark stats, and stirring testimonies, to places of absolute ruin, violence, and loss. A mom shared about losing her 15-year-old daughter to a heroin overdose. The presenter told story after story of friends getting high together, one person OD'ing, and the others, for fear of getting in trouble, dumping the body in a park rather than call the police or rush to the hospital. There was a slide show of collapsed veins, heads shot through in drug-related violence, and pretty teens whose appearances deteriorated to the point of non-recognition in the space of a few years of an addiction.
One of the pictures they showed in this one-hour presentation was of Nafes Johnson, who was killed in the middle of a drug-related crossfire a few years ago while he was driving kids from his church youth group home after a meeting. He was 20 when he was killed. No one should die at that age, especially not someone as talented and as good-hearted as Nafes. He was a minister and an entrepreneur. And he was my friend.
I had met him during his participation in another youth entrepreneurship program in Philadelphia. I kept in touch with him, as he grew as a business person and as a young adult. He attended one of our business camps, and received a Young Entrepreneur of the Year awards at one of our end-of-year banquets. Then, he graduated from high school, and began to work full-time for this other youth entrepreneurship program. Since our two programs collaborated on a lot of initiatives, Nafes and I would see each other at various functions. I made an effort to keep in touch with him, in hopes of serving as a positive role model and coach in his life, but in my mind, I felt I had much more to learn from him than he from me.
One day, I was near his office, and something entered my mind to stop by and see him. It was an ordinary work day. We had no event coming up, nothing specific we needed to talk about. But I visited anyway, just to say hi. He appreciated the gesture. And I appreciated the fact that we had enough of a relationship that I didn't need a reason to see him, that it was enough to simply say, "I just wanted to see you." We spoke for a few minutes, and then I was on my way. For some reason, as I walked back to my office, I felt a sense of satisfaction for having seen him, like it was important that I do that.
That was the last time I saw Nafes alive. The story broke over the weekend. I heard the name first, and then I saw the picture to confirm that it was indeed the Nafes Johnson that I knew. It is true for all young people that they don't deserve to die so young, that it is a terrible shame. But Nafes really was special. It is a travesty that drugs, which are no respecter of persons, would take from our community such a promising young leader as Nafes Johnson.
Then, as now, I hated the existence of things like narcotics and addiction and guns. They are a dark stain that has caused our city much expense, grief, and, and loss. And, today in my leadership class, I was reminded that they took away someone who I considered a friend to me and a beacon to our community. Nafes, I'm sorry that the world is so corrupt that it would take your life at such a young age over an argument over drugs and money. I can't wait to see you again in heaven, where such injustices do not exist.
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