Wrongfully Suspected,Could’ve been Wrongfully Killed:The Hunting Curse on Every Black Man in America

Updated: Jul 18, 2019



I would like to take a minute to recognize the life of a strong, courageous, and self-controlled African man.


Also a catholic man, he headed to my nondenominational church this morning, the Church of Redeemer, not because it was Palm Sunday but to thank God for having spared his life earlier this morning. Meanwhile, I remain secluded in my apartment, still petrified by the scary images of what could have been.

My mind, tormented with words of rage and tears of frustration from living in this country.

Around 4:00 am this morning, we both arrived from an African community event in Burtonsville, MD. We parked in front of my apartment building in downtown Crown, a Gaithersburg upscale residential area. We then continued our discussion about the future of our native country.

Few minutes into the conversation, we observe a Montgomery County police car making a U-turn from the opposite side of the street and comes parking right behind his Mercedes. Puzzled, we wonder why. So, my friend brings down his window as we await to hear the cause of our infringement.

Shockingly, away from the car, the police officer starts shouting:

- “Sir—GET OUT OF THE CAR!”

We are both confused. This is not the normal routine. The officer roared even louder,

- “OUT OF THE CAR, SIR!”

My friend unbuckles his seat belt and gets out as ordered. The police officer asks him to come around the back of the car and commands him to sit down on the pavement floor. His partner positions himself right behind my friend. The driver door still open, the officer walks back to me and gently tells me to sit tight, as if my friend was a danger to me.

In a blink of seconds, about 5 or 6 more police squads appear. They start patrolling the area, opening building doors, searching who knows what. Until now, no explanation of our infraction. I am terrified. Then a sentiment of guilty starts creeping in. He wouldn’t have been in this situation if I did not ask for a ride home.

I hear them questioning him, but I can’t discern the words except the part where they ask him if we both have been arguing. Then I see him pointing at my building, indicating to the officer that I live there. One male officer passes by my window, looks at me, and then breaks a smile like this was a walk in the park. Another one comes along and throws a “hello” hand gesture as if we were friends. I try to keep my eyes focused on my friend who is still sitting on the pavement like a vulgar beggar with his arms spread apart. I do not want to miss a second. I realize this gang of predominantly white male officers can kill him at any moment. Then, they can kill me as well to erase any evidence. I have seen it on TV, in the movies, and documentaries. My friend has no one to protect him. I cannot protect my African brother.

Useless, I feel but I decide to speak out few prayerful words in tongues. The police crew also have two white women officers and one light skin black officer who looks off the part. After few minutes, all of them join the two officers who are surveilling my friend. They all stand still in semi-circle behind him, some with smirk on their faces like they are about to devour a juicy piece of braised tenderloin. I keep looking. This could be IT- the last time I see my friend alive followed by the last minutes of my existence.


Soon after, I hear two officers ordering him to get up. My heart stops. Will they beat him? Will they hurt him? Will they handcuff him? – NO! They did not. They speak more words, then he is allowed back to the car. He sits down and closes the door.

I stare at him.

- “What the hell is going on?”, “What do they want?”, I shout mortified.

- “They said a woman living in the building called them and claimed that a man who works at the gas station has been waiting for her downstairs in a car.”, he responded.

Can someone explain how a man, accompanied by a female, will be sitting in his car with his emergency lights on knowing that they could attract the attention of anyone driving by, could be dangerous? Why then, did they not ask us both to get out if his car was the suspected one? In all objectivity, we will be both considered dangerous.

My friend is a member of an international organization senior management, a PhD holder in Economics, an elder in my community, a father, a brother, an uncle, a mentor to many, a homeowner, a black belt holder, and more importantly a man of after God’s own heart. He probably earns more that few of those officers combined. This 25-year-old looking officer yelling at him for no reason will not stand one round with him in a ring. But the officer is white, he has a uniform, and he has a gun. My friend is black.

In fact, no black man is safe in this country regardless of their social status or academic achievements. This is a country that was led by a black president for eight years, but it has been incapable to cross the mountain of racism, especially towards our black men.

In the car, my friend and I are still trying to absorb what just happened when an older police officer knocks at his window and says:

- “All right Sir, you were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time” Really!? being parked in front of my building is qualified as being at the wrong place.

I look at the officer and ask him if such treatment was necessary. No man should be treated like a criminal until proven guilty. I could not take it anymore. The stress has taken its toll and I break down in tears. This institution that claims to provide protection for its community regardless of their skin color, gender, or origin, is hypocrite. Throughout their show, they acted like they were protecting me; I assume because I