6 in one hand, half of a dozen in the other.

“Same Sh¡t”

Today I called the Dixmoor Police Station.

“We don’t have anything from that time period.”

I’ve heard that before. Years ago I was told the Dixmoor Police Department had lost ALL of their files. I don’t remember what the cause was, but there was nothing to give me. Today was the first time that someone actually returned a phone call, in years. I was pretty shocked at that. What usually happens is that a secretary with the village answers, transfers me, whoever answers takes a message, I never get a call back.

Been going that way for years.

Outside of Joe Falica, an officer that headed the case in 1994, no one has ever assisted us. Eventually he became Chief Falica and stayed in contact with me for years. He used to call me periodically and give me information about the primary suspect. He hated that there was nothing more that he could do.
I’m not privy to the details of his life and career as a police officer but the Chief had a lot to say about the controversy and corruption that went on in that department. He’d suggested that we find a way to get the story to the television show America’s Most Wanted. He felt that a bigger audience would put press on the State authorities to be more active in the case.

A few years after my Mom’s murder Chief Falica called me and said, “She’s done it again”. When I asked who and what he was talking about he said that there’d been a fire in a home and a person died. He told me that the details were suspicious enough that he was somehow contacted because investigators related to the case had called him since his name and work on our case came up while they were looking her up in the system. He said, “… and Cornelious, there’s a life insurance policy in this case too. I’ve already contacted the insurance company and let them know that she is a suspect in a previous homicide, and there’s a chance that she did this for the money.”

For anyone that knows anything about any of this, you know that I wouldn’t know any of that unless it came from exactly who it came from. But I want you to imagine what this has been for me, I was a child when this was happening. Chief Falica was the only person that reached out. And he was equally frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the people in our community, our family, and the authorities, that all seemed to not have any desire to press this.

He felt like my only option was to get this on tv. There weren’t all of the programs that we have today available back then and eventually I think he got older and then we lost contact. And this just wore hard on me. I tried to move on, let go, pretend that I could walk away from having to relive this everyday. Tried to act like I could just put this all in the back of my mind, and get my life back. But God wouldn’t stop bringing it all back so that I could face it. I tried to ignore that too.
Some years back I found out some things that I felt the Chief should know and I wanted to connect with him to get his help with reaching one of the cold case shows that now saturate the airways. I started searching for him. An officer at the Glenwood Police station was really helpful and told me how I might be able to find him. I did, but I was informed that he was ill. He died in 2020.

I want y’all to know how difficult this has all been for me. Yet, I want you to see how God KEEPS forcing me to deal with it. I tried to suppress it. I’ve tried to distract myself. I’ve tried to put the blame on my Mom, or myself, so that the anger, hurt, and disappointment that comes with seeing the person that DESTROYED your life, just deliciously living theirs!
None of that has worked.

And then I get the call that she’s dying. I’d think that a call with such information would be some sort of relief. But it wasn’t. And it made me realize that I was hurting more than I ever thought I was, all this time. It made me realize that I was waiting for “justice” all this time. I was waiting for justice to correct everything, to change everything back, to heal me.

Now, let me tell you what happened Sunday…

So, I’ve been going through it! For the past few years I’ve been telling people that my life “doesn’t make sense”. I’m too talented, too positive, too hardworking, too “good” to be going through the struggles and challenges that I’ve faced. Especially in the last 4-6 years.
It has been ROUGH.
I’ve tried to manipulate and maneuver my way through what was a clear decision from the Heavens for me to sit down. I mean, you would not believe how much I’ve gone through to try to maintain. While my spirit and the voice of God was instructing me to “let go”. I believe in God wholeheartedly. I know God. And I know that there is a perfect will of God, just as there is a permissive will of God.

Let’s talk for a second…

I’ve written 3 books. I have a t-shirt brand. I’m a dynamic writer and poet. I am a fantastic barber. I’ve been doing those things for more than 25+ years. Over the past 4 years I’ve managed a property preservation firm, been a supervisor and inspector for a housing authority, and involved in so many other business ventures.

And broke as hell.

Because God told me to do something that I didn’t do.

And God’s been squeezing and pressing and forcing me out of this “permissive” place so that I walk into this perfect place.

I put up a post the other day, “Part 7”. It was a repost of something I put up in 2014. I said that I wasn’t really concerned with you reading it, I wanted to discuss it. I planned to do a video to talk about it. Here’s what I wanted to talk about…

That post was something I wrote when I walked away from the hair industry. I quit cutting hair because God told me to. I was told that I had a job to do outside of the shop. I’ve been known that I was supposed to walk away. And I did. But when I did, I was faced with not being distracted by the overwhelming of everyone else’s sh¡t that you get to hear, see, and be part of as a barber. But I didn’t stay gone. Against what God told me to do, I went back to cutting hair not long after I quit.

I hope I don’t lose anyone. I probably should do a video. But I’m here now and I have to finish what I start.

As a barber, especially me, I don’t have to think about my life. Because I get to think about, talk about, and deal with so many other people’s. And I do that. WELL! I’m known for fixing EVERYONES issues, problems, and concerns. Nobody- as far as my clients, my coworkers- knew about any of what you’ve been reading the past few weeks.

Because I’ve tried to be for everyone else what I needed.

Whole time, I’ve needed me.

(Mind you, I just released a book, “You Need You” that is a manual for getting through. A book that I wrote and am not promoting, pushing, or profiting from. Because I’m holding onto what God has been told me to let go of!)

2 things before I talk about Sunday:

About 3 months ago I was on the phone with Dr.Torri Lovelivinglife Griffin. In the middle of the conversation she says, “See, you’ll never be able to cut enough heads to fund your lifestyle.”
She said that it was time for me to move on. That I’m holding onto to something that is not going to take care of me. It is time to go.

A few days ago Traci Rogers walks into the shop to say hi because she was in the area. She’s standing in the room and says, “See, you’re not supposed to be here. You’ve outgrown this place. But I’m not talking about this specific building or these people. It’s like, See, you have to know that it has nothing to do with your talent. Who you are in the hair business is known. But it’s time for you to go. What am I saying? I don’t know why I’m saying this.” I knew exactly what she was saying.

Now, Sunday.

I’m going to skip the first part of the day. It’s a great story too, but I’m trying to get up and make some more phone calls and send some emails to see about this “justice”.
I really want to share this part:

I never answer the shop phone! It’s not for me. My clients have my number. I don’t even know the shop phone number, to be able to give it out.
I was just at the shop. Not cutting hair. Just walking around and asking God what am I supposed to be doing. I’m going through a tough time rehashing and retelling all of these stories, but I’m also feeling a sense of peace that I’ve never felt from getting all of the apologies and acknowledgment that I went almost 30 years without. But now I’m sensitive. I feel like the tears that have not come since 1998, are at the edge of my eyelids, any moment now, I’ll be crying this all out.
So I’m just there and walking around and talking to God.

Shop phone rings.

Something tells me to answer it.

I say no.

Something says ANSWER IT.

I say NO.

I’m saying NO and walking towards the phone. I’m saying NO while picking up the handset. I’m saying NO while clicking the talk button.

When I answer it and start my shop greeting I hear a barber already on the phone telling the caller that we are about to close. Before I could stop myself from hanging up the phone or not saying anything, I say, “You can come now, I will be here”. The caller says, “Thanks, I’m on my way!”.
I walk to the front and tell the barber that was on the phone that I had to wait for a client that I’d just told on my phone to come through, so I might as well take a client in between the wait.

About 20 minutes later, a young man walks in. I ask if he had called earlier and he says yes.

As he is walking towards me, I hear a voice that says “talk to him”. Now, you can confirm with him. He will tell you that during this entire conversation it looked like I was talking to an invisible friend. Because I was arguing with the spirit that was telling me to talk to this young man. I’m always talking and in that moment, I just wanted to hear God tell me what I was supposed to be doing, what God was doing, or when I would know either. I did not feel like talking about much else. So, as much as my clients get the therapist, confidant, consultant, motivating, inspirational, positive, engaging SEE, I wasn’t planning on being any of that Sunday. I just wanted to cut this young man’s hair, get my $40, and cut my next client.

The young man is in my chair and I ask him what did he want me to do with his hair. He tells me.

Spirit says “TALK TO HIM”.

I ask him if he is from the area. And what school he graduated from and when. He responds that he graduated in 2012. He looks a lot younger than his actual age. I didn’t expect him to say 2012.

“TALK TO HIM”

Now at this point, he will tell you that I looked like I was talking to the sky. I’m visibly talking to this voice that is demanding that I speak with this man.

“What do you do?”

He responds that he is an artist and an educator. I ask him what type of artist and he tells me. Then I ask, “What’s your name?”

Chai Tulani.

Before the spirit could even say anything to me, I respond to “Chai”.
What does Tulani mean? Because I assumed that “Chai” was spelled like the tea and I know that word means tea.

“Tulani means Peace”.

Now, you can ask Chai if this went like this. But I started laughing. I’m looking up at the ceiling and saying out loud, “Here you go, you and your sense of humor.”

Chai is looking at me confused. And I get it. I know it looked crazy.

Spirit says again, “Talk to him”.

At this point I’m taking this whole meeting to mean that God is telling me to be at peace. That’s funny to me because I’m so calm and so peaceful. And I was assuming that God was letting me know that I’m not as peaceful as I think I am. So now I’m in my head and arguing with God about it.

Spirit says, “TALK TO HIM”.

So I ask a couple more questions. Mind you, when he’s said his name I’d put it in my YouTube and looked him up. So while I’m talking to him and listening to this spirit and arguing with God, I’m listening to his music. Because the song I was listening to had a different voice, I show him my phone screen and ask him if it was him that I was listening to.

“Oh, you found me, and you’re listening already. Cool. Yes, that’s me.”

As I’m putting the phone back I notice that there is something that says Kenyan-American. So I ask him if he’s African and he says that he is. That his mom is from Kenya and his Dad is from the Gardens. I laugh and he says that he gets that type of reaction whenever he tells his origin story. I told him, “Oh, there is a whole bunch of God in the Gardens. As a matter of fact, one of my most amazing spiritual experiences over the past 15 years happened in the Concordia apartments.”
He says that he knows exactly where that is.

Then I say out loud… “Chai Tulani means peace”.

He turns and looks at me and says, “No. Chai is not my first name. Chai is my artist name. My real name is Sila.”

I said, “See-what?”.

He said, “Sila. It is most commonly, Silas. But my name is Sila Tulani. And my name means “justice brings back peace”.”

Now I look at him in complete bewilderment.

Spirit says “Ask him”.

I ask Chai, “When were you born?”

“1994.”

I finish his haircut and before he leaves I tell him that he and I will work together. I introduce myself, a lil bit, and he leaves.

Immediately I think to myself:

In 1994 my Mother was murdered. I found her body on March 28, 1994. (By now I’d seen online that Chai’s birthday is April 19, 1994) And somewhere in the world a baby was born, named Sila Nzioka Tulani which means “Justice brings back Peace”. That baby would grow up and become an artist and educator and on December 10, 2023 would need a haircut. He’d call a barbershop to see if they were open. I- not ever answering that phone- answer it reluctantly and tell him to come in after another barber tells him that we are closing. He comes in and the entire time that he is in my presence the Spirit of God is urging me to talk to him, to ask him questions. All to get the message for why God has been forcing me to do what God is forcing me to do.

Justice brings back Peace.

My God.