Forgiveness is considered by many to be one of the most important of all spiritual practices, yet there are times and instances in which forgiveness feels impossible; some actions that seem in fact, unforgivable. In January of 1995, Azim Khamisa was not only able to find forgiveness in the face of an unspeakable loss, but went further than that. He committed himself to the healing and support of the life of the person responsible for his loss, a loss so great and so painful, that no words were adequate to describe it. Khamisa reminds us all that the capacity of the human heart to open in love and compassion is unlimited, even in the most horrific circumstances, and that forgivenss isn't something that we do for someone else, but rather for ourselves. Having said that, it's important to keep in mind that usually, forgiveness is a process that unfolds over time, and not an event that occurs in one discrete moment. When the intention is present for a healing to occur, in time, forgiveness will happen. Here's how it happened for Azim.
In the middle of a January night in 1995, Azim, was awakened by the phone call that every parent dreads receiving. A voice at the other end of the line told him that his only son, 20 year old Tariq had been shot and killed while delivering pizzas is San Diego. His killer, Tony Hicks, murdered him as means of fulfilling a gang initiation requirement. Tony became the first fourteen year old to be tried as an adult in the state of California.
Azim: "When I got the phone call saying that Tariq was dead I kind of left my body, because the pain was too much to bear. It was like a nuclear bomb going off inside my heart. There was no solace to be found in my mind and so, as a Sufi Muslim, I turned to my faith. For the next few weeks I survived through prayer and was given the blessing of forgiveness, reaching the conclusion there were victims at both ends of the gun. In my faith, on the fortieth day after a death you are encouraged to channel your grief into good compassionate deeds: deeds which provide high octane fuel for the soul's forward journey."
Out of his desire to create "spiritual currency" for his son, and to provide a sense of purpose in his devastated life,, Azim reached out to Ples Felix, Tony's grandfather and guardian.
"The first time I met Ples I told him that I felt no animosity towards his grandson. Ples was quick to take the offered hand of forgiveness. We're very different: I wear a pin-striped suit, and he has hair down to his waist. But from the moment we met we have been like brothers. We share a common purpose. We both believe that in every crime there is an opportunity to improve society by learning how to prevent that crime from happening again. Tariq was a victim of Tony, but Tony was a victim of American society - and society is a mirror image of each and every one of us."
Out of his commitment to honor his beloved son and use the tragedy as a means of promoting non-violence, Azim founded the Tariq Khamisa Foundation, an organization which he describes as being committed to "stopping children from killing children".
"Five years after the tragedy I met Tony. It was a very healing time. I found him very likeable - well mannered and remorseful. I told him that when he got out of prison there would be a job waiting for him at the Tariq Khamisa Foundation. You do forgiveness for yourself, because it moves you on. The fact that it can also heal the perpetrator is the icing on the cake. Tony is studying in prison now, and I know we will save him. In return, Tony will go on to save thousands of other children. I have recently written a letter to our Governor to commute Tony's sentence. "
Tony is Ples' daughter's only child. He grew up on the violent streets of South LA, and at eight years of age witnessed the murder of his cousin. Seeing that he was becoming increasingly exposed to gang life, his mother proposed that he come and live with Ples.
Ples: "I welcomed the opportunity to bring up Tony in San Diego as my own son. He had been living with me for five years before the tragedy occurred. Things had started off okay, but by seventh grade Tony was hanging out with much older kids who were leading him astray. The night before the shooting I told him he wouldn't be able to go out that weekend if he didn't do his homework. The next day I found a note saying, "I've run away, love Tony." My shotgun was also missing. Having reported Tony a runaway, I sat and watched a news report about a pizza delivery man who'd been shot and killed in North Park.
Two days later I traced Tony and alerted the Police. That afternoon I got a call from a homicide detective saying, "Mr. Felix, your grandson is no longer considered a runaway. He is now the prime suspect in a murder inquiry." All the emotions hit me. I felt anger, shame and tremendous loss. I also felt guilt because I was Tony's guardian and responsible for his behavior. Tony was angry: angry about abuse and abandonment, about living with a strict grandfather. He had tried to medicate this anger with drugs and drink. Later he told me that on that fateful night he'd been hanging around with older gang members. When a pizza delivery man turned up and refused to hand over a pizza without payment, one of the older kids shouted, "Bust him!" and Tony pulled the trigger."
From the moment he was taken into custody to the day before he appeared for sentencing, Tony maintained a false bravado. But when he met with his attorney he was warned that, in light of the evidence, there'd be serious consequences if he pleaded 'not guilty.'
"It was then that I urged Tony to take responsibility for his actions; to minimize the pain and harm he'd done to the Khamisa family. He broke down and cried. "I'm so sorry, Daddy," he sobbed. I held him and tried to console him. The next day everyone was expecting a plea of 'not guilty," but Tony gave a very remorseful and emotional speech in which he pleaded guilty and asked for Mr. Khamisa's forgiveness. Tony was sentenced to a prison term of twenty-five years.
When the three of us met in prison it was probably hardest for Azim. At the end, after Azim had left, Tony said, "That is a very special man. I shot and killed his one and only son and yet he can sit with me, encourage me, and then offer me a job."
Azim: You do forgiveness for yourself, because it moves you on. The fact that it can also heal the perpetrator is the icing on the cake. Tony is studying in prison now, and I know we will save him. In return, Tony will go on to save thousands of other children. I have recently written a letter to our governor to commute Tony's sentence."
Azim told us that since their initial meeting, he and Ples have dedicated their lives to ending the epidemic of youth violence that plagues our country. To help prevent such tragedies from striking other families, they have spoken to thousands of school children about the pain and loss they have personally experienced, the power of choice, and the importance of forgiveness.
The Tariq Khamisa Foundation (TKF) has reached over 50,000 students in 115 schools in San Diego County with its school-based violence prevention programs. The program focuses on 4th-8th grade students in schools considered most at-risk for violence. TKF works with these children before they make their decisions about gangs.
For more information about The Tariq Khamisa Foundation, go to http://tkf.org/.
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