A family buries a child on an election day shaped by gun violence
Dozens of loved ones gathered to honor the life of 17-year-old Nazeem Rains, who was fatally shot last week near his home in East Germantown.
On the day of a mayoral primary election shaped by gun violence, a heartbroken family gathered to bury their child.
Dozens of family, friends, teachers, and classmates poured into Lenwood Jones Funeral Home in West Philadelphia on Tuesday to join in prayer and honor the life of 17-year-old Nazeem Rains, who was fatally shot last week near his home in East Germantown.
Nazeem’s grandmother, Yolanda Rains, who raised him like a son, arrived at the service in a black Cadillac. She emerged from the car, wearing a long, flowing black abaya, decorated with gold-and-red rhinestones, to near silence.
She was already crying.
Her sisters came to her side and held her steady as she made her way toward the funeral home entrance.
She stopped beneath the stairs.
“Give me a minute,” she said. She took three deep, trembling breaths, and looked up to the sky.
Allah would give her strength.
She walked inside, where, at the front of the room, Nazeem’s body lay in a pine coffin, wrapped in a white shroud, only his young face visible.
Most who stepped before the coffin couldn’t bear to stay, and returned outside to hold each other and cry.
“I’m at a loss for words,” said Jamal Dennis, principal of Philadelphia Learning Academy North, where Nazeem was finishing up his junior year. “He’s another life taken too soon.”
His eyes were red and his cheeks wet with tears; his expression a mix of sorrow and anger.
It felt especially poignant on this day, as Philadelphians headed to the polls to vote for candidates for mayor and the next slate of city leaders. According to a recent survey, nearly nine in 10 residents think crime is the No. 1 issue the next mayor must tackle.
In Philadelphia, where more than 1,600 people have died in homicides in the last three years, many would vote with those losses in mind.
But for some, such as Nazeem, the potential for change comes too late.
“To hell with Philly,” said his aunt, Zarinah Buckner.
Dennis said the crisis is “bigger than just gun violence.”
“It’s a lack of resources. It’s caging kids into systems that don’t connect them to the life they need to succeed,” he said.
“Listen to the kids,” he pleaded to the next mayor.
“The solution to the problem is out here in the streets, but they’re just sitting in offices,” he said. “These kids want different, they want better. But the road that leads them there hasn’t been paved yet.”
‘I was trying to keep him safe’
Nazeem Anthony Rains was born Dec. 5, 2005, in Philadelphia. His grandmother Yolanda Rains took him home from the hospital three days later, she said; her son Anthony, Nazeem’s father, was incarcerated at the time, and has remained so for most of his son’s life.
Rains named Nazeem, and raised him like a son. He is the fifth oldest of 16 children. His family called him “Fat Fat.”
“I always said death was the only thing that would keep us apart,” Rains said.
Loved ones described him as outgoing, genuine, and respectful. He loved to dance and play basketball. His bright smile could turn a day around.
“He had this peace about him,” said his math teacher, Manoj Mathew. “He was a uniting figure. He always shook my hand, and never showed off in class.”
Nazeem was killed Thursday afternoon, a day that started like any other, Rains said. He played basketball with friends after school, then returned home to change clothes. Before leaving again about 5:45 p.m., he checked himself out in the mirror by the door, making sure his hair, freshly cut just the day before, looked right, Rains said.
He gathered his friends outside, then walked back in front of his house, where his grandmother and aunts were sitting on the porch.
“He smiled at us and said, ‘What y’all lookin at, uglies?” Rains laughed.
He’d be right back, he told her. He was going to get water ice down the street.
He walked up to Nedro Mini Mart, and just as he crossed the street, at least two shooters jumped out of two idling cars, including a Lexus that had been reported stolen, and fired nearly two dozen times, said Deputy Police Commissioner Frank Vanore.
Four young people were shot: a 16-year-old boy was struck in the shoulder; a 15-year-old boy was shot in the back and head, and remains in critical condition; 7-year-old Major Winston, who was riding his green bike in front of his home, was struck in the upper thigh.
And Nazeem was struck in his head.
Two women rushed to Nazeem’s side, his grandmother said, and tried to apply pressure to his wounds. A man from the block piled all three teens into his car and rushed them to Einstein Medical Center before police arrived. Nazeem died at the hospital, a short time later.
Vanore said investigators believe the shooting may have stemmed from a feud between groups of young men, though he said it was unclear which of the teens, if any, were targeted.
Rains said her grandson was an innocent victim. She monitored his life closely and regularly checked his room, she said. He did not even have his own phone, she said — his Instagram account was linked to hers, and she checked it often to ensure his posts were appropriate and that he wasn’t wrapped up in any social media beefs — an increasing driver in violence between young people.
Still, anytime he left home, she worried.
“I wouldn’t feel relief until he came back in the house,” she said. “I was concerned for his safety because he’s young, he’s Black, he’s a male, and he was around the age of all of these kids getting killed. I was trying to keep him safe and get him out of here.”
The family was in the process of trying to move to northwestern Ohio, she said. She was awaiting word from the Lucas County Housing Authority that her Section 8 voucher would transfer from Philly. Because summer was nearing, she said, they needed a plan to keep Nazeem busy and out of harm’s way.
Nazeem had decided he would join Job Corps, a free vocational program in which young people live on a college-like campus for at least a year and learn a trade. He hoped to study automotive engineering, Rains said.
He met with his school counselor on Tuesday, and he had only a few outstanding items on his application.
He was killed before he was able to submit it.
Rains was beside herself Monday. She blamed the mayor and police commissioner, and said her life would never be the same.
“Something has to change, or we’re going to lose a whole generation of our kids,” Rains said.
After the viewing, Nazeem’s relatives gathered in the nearby Carroll Park for the Janazah, a traditional Muslim funeral prayer.
His family lined up, standing side by side, beneath the shade of a towering maple tree. They faced Nazeem’s coffin, which lay on a metal stretcher in the grass.
“Allahu akbar,” they said again and again.
Afterward, principal Dennis hugged Nazeem’s grandmother tight. He used both hands to cover and wipe the tears streaming down his face.
Dennis would return to school tomorrow and continue to do all he could to support and protect the city’s children.
And he wondered: Will the next mayor?