No Life Like It

"To have the person scared, you have to point it at them, to intimidate them, and demand what you want.  They give it to you, then you leave.  There was no confrontation ... like a Mexican standoff."
Omar Ahmed

His prize possession was a .44 magnum gun.  He would stick it in his boots, in his waistband, or a jacket pocket; whatever came to mind whichever was handiest, however the impression he wanted to make, reflecting the manner of his approach at any given time.  But it was his companion, he relied on its presence.  It was the source of his strength, the respect given him, his success.

That is when he would set out to hold up another drug dealer, that kind of thing.  Relieve the fellow of his ill-gotten gains.  And with that gun in his possession there was no resistance, simply a surrender of the cash politely requested.  And then everything was cool.  There was no pay-back, he was considered lethal, not to be crossed.

For the most part, though, when he wasn't out prowling the dark streets for victims, he kept the gun in a safe place.  In the insulation of the basement of the Ottawa Housing unit where his family lived.  If he was feeling particularly nervous of being the object of police suspicion, for example, he'd take the gun out and move it to a "safe house" somewhere else, in the south end of Ottawa.

Ahmed was testifying, not holding anything back.  At the trial for three men who were accused of killing Ahmed's best friend.  That kind of thing, so violent, so final, can be a real head-snapper.  His friend and gang leader, Mohamed Zalal.  Those attending the trial heard that people like Ahmed don't plan to join gangs like the Crips.  It just happens.

It's part of where they live, what guys get up to in low-income housing.  The other youth he went to school with and hung out with were all indoctrinated as he was by simply being there; it was the environment, and they were part of it.  "And when you grow up, that's who you did crime with", he said, before being deported to Somalia.

They were a community, bonded together by crime and their passion to be part of the gang.  Ahmed had dealt crack and crack cocaine, operated gaming houses and robbed other guys who were also drug dealers, like him.  It was obviously a busy, satisfying and remunerative lifestyle.  One with its own built-in adventure and excitement.  Not for the squeamish.

The gang trafficked firearms, ran prostitution rings, committed assaults - and on occasion when it was required - murder.  "I liked hustling or selling drugs, so that's what I did and that's what I was good at", Ahmed said.  Poker nights took place at Ahmed house and he would get a rake-off of the profits because he was "the house".

When he was accused by a prosecuting attorney of terrifying his neighbourhood with his gang's activities, Ahmed responded: "There's strength in numbers.  There's also strength in carrying a firearm."  Owning a gun guaranteed that gang members attained high status within their group; a gun was equated with power.

"Some keep it for show, others keep it for real", said Ahmed.  Those who shot someone and who evaded detection by the police were afforded the greatest respect by the gang members; as word got out on the street that respect was more universal.  Perhaps the 'respect' was really fear to some great degree, depending on whom it concerned.

"There was a big shock to me when I found out the next day that he was dead.  And it's still a shock to this day, you know, that he's deceased", Ahmed testified about his friend Mohamed Zalal.  Zalal had been shot in the back of the head in a car speeding down Highway 417, his body dumped in a farmer's field.  He had been looking to retrieve his 'baby' a 9-millimetre gun that had been appropriated while Zalal was in prison.

Ahmed defied the "creed" of gang life by co-operating with police.  He felt compelled to do that, he explained, because his best friend and partner had been killed, and since he was being deported to Somalia he felt no danger to himself in testifying in the murder trial of the men accused of killing Zalal; Nawaf Al-Enzi and Mahmoud Kayem.

Ali Abdul-Hussein, in the car when Zalal was shot by Al-Enzi received a suspended sentence and credit for 11-months of pre-trial custody.  He was arrested while cleaning blood and gore out of the car with Mahmoud Kayem who was driving the car at the time of the murder.  While Nawaf Al-Enzi had shot Zalal.


That's the life.