A remembrance of Sister Najeebah Jaja
I was in attendance when Shamari graduated from high school. It was a warm day, probably in May, and I drove up to Oakland from my residence in Santa Clara.
I met with Sister Najeebah and Shamari and we proceeded to the graduation site which was somewhere in the Oakland hills. Shamari was like any other student, excited for the day and happy of this amazing accomplishment. Of course, Sister Najeebah was also beaming with pride.
Shamari went to the student gathering are and Sister Najeebah remained at the entrance of the venue to watch for her other invitees. I proceeded to the stadium to find hopefully a shady spot to observe the ceremony.
I found a semi-shady spot that I could tolerate and remained there to watch the ceremony. Graduating from high school is a ‘big deal’ for the graduates as well as their friends and families, so it was pleasant to be surrounded by the joy of the attendees on this occasion.
After the ceremony was over, I proceeded to an area where I thought I might find Shamari and his mom. This was before people were playing cell phone tag and locating each other with their devices.
Luckily, we found each other in a gathering area for the graduates. Shamari was happily holding his diploma and celebrating with the other students. Najeebah was there and happy as a proud mom should be.
At one point Shamari looked at us and declared “I have two moms, two moms”! He was excited to have his mom and her good friend standing for him in love and in pride.
At this time, I had already graduated my two sons from high school and they were busy living their lives. I had recently returned from four years of teaching at a university in Kenya and I was trying to find my “sea legs” back on American soil. I’ve never actually found them.
However, I was honored to have a friend like Najeebah, who I would often see when I came home for summers. One time she had a get-together for me and invited some of the sisters. I remember bringing some Masai artifacts that I had acquired in the Kenyan marketplace.
When I moved from California to Houston Sister Najeebah and Shamari came to visit me in the tiny apartment that I was sharing with my son. I remember preparing them a brunch fit for a Queen and her Prince.
My memories of Sister Najeebah are filled with love. I wish her ‘Safe-Home’ and I declare that I am still a “second mom” to Shamari if he ever needs to stake that claim.
Linda Tauhid
©️1/22/24
Houston, Texas
lindatauhid.wordpress.com
Note to Reader:
The most significant fact about this story/narration is that Najeebah’s son Shamari is functionally challenged. This condition can be seen through his speech and mannerisms. I always could see the love and intelligence within Shamari, so these differences became non-existent to me. His mom, an educator, worked hard to obtain for him the best education and “normalized” circumstances so this story is a victory lap for all involved as Shamari is a thriving adult living in a group home scenario with love of friends, family: aunts, uncles and other moms.
Linda Tauhid 