NOTE; Kyyboa is NOT, let us repeat, NOT AFFILIATED with Musaw aka Mousa Jabour, or any of his family. We have nothing to do with them. Kyyboa is separate and distinct. Emlila Kyyboa was conducting an emotionally-in-depth investigation into that family, which is very intense and disturbing. She and all of KYYBOA are not connected with that project anymore.
We begin by quoting >Ashley Wood comment:
I have recently discovered that Musaw, Sahki's son, has been stealing my ATM debit card and filling his pockets quietly. He has been able to do this because I have opened my home and my life to him and invited him to be a part of it.
When he would leave to "go to the store", he would grab my ATM card and use it to get hundreds of dollars out at a time, all the while pretending that it never happened.
How much money has been stolen from me, by him over the course of 2 years, the time that I have known him? I don't know yet. I am almost scared to find out, the whole situation is already nauseating.
I do know that just over the last 2 days, $1000 was stolen by him.
When I confronted Musaw with this, he denied it and literally ran away in his van(the van that I originally bought for his mother, Pheonix), hitting a parked car on his way out as he could not get away fast enough.
He said to me, "you'll never be able to prove it" over text message.
There is a a secret that is being kept and nurtured here within this family. Because it is kept hidden,
the secret remains all powerful.
I implore all of you to come clean, face the truth, and do what's right.
Otherwise, more and more crimes will take place in the name of this secret, and needless suffering will continue to effect not only this family but many many others in an indirect way.
We begin by quoting >Ashley Wood comment:
I have recently discovered that Musaw, Sahki's son, has been stealing my ATM debit card and filling his pockets quietly. He has been able to do this because I have opened my home and my life to him and invited him to be a part of it.
When he would leave to "go to the store", he would grab my ATM card and use it to get hundreds of dollars out at a time, all the while pretending that it never happened.
How much money has been stolen from me, by him over the course of 2 years, the time that I have known him? I don't know yet. I am almost scared to find out, the whole situation is already nauseating.
I do know that just over the last 2 days, $1000 was stolen by him.
When I confronted Musaw with this, he denied it and literally ran away in his van(the van that I originally bought for his mother, Pheonix), hitting a parked car on his way out as he could not get away fast enough.
He said to me, "you'll never be able to prove it" over text message.
There is a a secret that is being kept and nurtured here within this family. Because it is kept hidden,
the secret remains all powerful.
I implore all of you to come clean, face the truth, and do what's right.
Otherwise, more and more crimes will take place in the name of this secret, and needless suffering will continue to effect not only this family but many many others in an indirect way.
Next we report that Emlila LOANED her Food-stamp EBT card to Mousa aka Musaw in January 2012. He proceeded to use it up, for the next months, illegally. Why did Emlila who is ElementAlkemy of Asheville, do such a risky thing? Musaw Mousa stole everythign that was for her own two children!!! Then they proceeded to starve until she returned to the spiritual fold of Kyyboa tribe. Thank YAhweh AMEN.
Sakhi Gulestan, 1930s-2008The Birdman of Dupont Circle
Sakhi Gulestan
Peter Muller
Sakhi Gulestan, a vendor who sold umbrellas, scarves, and other merchandise in Dupont Circle for nearly 25 years, died Saturday, March 29, inside a rented box truck in which he was living.
Gulestan, known as “Mohammed” by many in the neighborhood, was a fixture at 20th and Q Streets. He often gave away more than he sold. Although his age is unknown—he estimated he was in his 70s—his wife of 34 years remembers the December her husband got his vending license and began working in D.C.. It was 1983, “one of the coldest Decembers in ages,” says Phoenix Gulestan, who is in her 60s and lives off and on in the family’s other vehicle, a van with West Virginia tags parked off the intersection.
Phoenix, an American, met and married Sakhi in Afghanistan, where he was born. She arrived in that country from Nepal, where she had been living as a Buddhist monk. Her memory of their introduction is doused with spiritual references, including a premonition that she would meet a “Mexican bandito” in Levis and a black jacket. When she met her husband a few days later, she says, he matched the description exactly. She often refers to herself as a student and follower of Sakhi and converted to Islam, his religion, before the Soviets invaded Afghanistan and they decided to leave.
In D.C., after dismantling his vending stand each night, Sakhi visited neighborhood eateries to collect leftover bread, sandwiches, and pastries that were destined for alley Dumpsters. After offering a modest portion to his wife and two adult sons, he would distribute the remaining food to people he knew in Dupont Circle.
“There were points where Mohammed was feeding hundreds of people who had nothing,” says Tim, who didn’t give his last name and describes himself as a homeless veteran. “I can remember when I first met him when I came into this town in 1986. He said, ‘My friend, you’re hungry.’ He left for a minute, and he came back and fed me.”
Sakhi, he says, would often come through the circle late at night, waking up people sleeping on benches and passing out food he’d collected. The items he could not distribute to people he saved for the birds.
Every day at 3 p.m., he collected hot water from Dupont Flowers and spent 30 minutes soaking and crushing bread into an easily spreadable mixture. He would then cast the stew out for pigeons and gulls.
He considered feeding the birds the most sacred part of his day. He often talked about their importance and the purity of their existence and took no heed of possible fines for littering or public nuisance. Some members of the community took issue with these feedings, expressing concern that they attracted not just birds but rats.
Sakhi also gave away umbrellas every time it rained, says Alcaly Lo, a clerk at Connecticut Avenue Liquor who sold him cigarettes on most days. Sakhi distributed umbrellas at the Starbucks at Connecticut and R, too. “My umbrella stand at home contains five or six umbrellas, all of which were from him. He was always looking out for us,” says Robert Wilson, a morning manager there.
Phoenix says even as he grew old, few could keep up with her husband, including her.
“When he asked me to marry him, he also asked me why I’d marry him,” she says. “I’ll tell the truth. I’ve never seen anyone with the patience and the ability to give regardless of who or what or why. It starts at 5 o’clock in the morning and does not end until 1 o’clock at night.”
Phoenix has a place to stay in West Virginia but preferred to be at 20th and Q, close to Sakhi. They talked often about their daughter, Mountain, who died from AIDS-related complications at the age of 13. She had contracted HIV through a blood transfusion. “Her death was very difficult for both of them,” explains an employee at Dupont Flowers who has known Sakhi for the last 20 years. “When his daughter was in the hospital, he would come in every day to buy a flower for her.” Phoenix believes that Mountain’s spirit will someday return and keeps a meticulous count of the days since her death in 1994.
Although Sakhi suffered from an abdominal hernia, he otherwise appeared in good health and worked up until his death. His wife and sons found him in the truck after an acquaintance, a Jamaican woman who had come to return $4 she borrowed, told them that her knocks at the window did not get a response. He died around 9:45 a.m. The family plans a memorial for him on April 17 at a yet-to-be-announced location.
The day after his death, friends and those who knew him in passing left flowers and messages at the corner of 20th and Q Streets NW.
“Your spirit will live on,” one man wrote, along with several more words in Farsi.
“All the homeless people out here loved having him around,” says Tim, the vet. “He brought life into the park. He brought the birds.…He was the birdman.”
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OUR READERS SAY
One of the best I've ever read.
M.
When I started 6 years ago, I saw this funny little man who was in a hurry all the time. I saw him feed the birds and was touched, as I love to watch animals had the opportunity to do so.
About 5 years ago, he had a lovely scarf for sale. I asked how much it was. I didn't have enough. He handed me the scarf and told me to pay it when I could. In that moment, my life and my perception of him, and all mankind was changed. He trusted a stranger without hesitation. I began to sort of hang around and talk, mostly to the women. But I always have a smile and a "Hello for Gulistan and it was returned with genuine affection.
I have become close with his wife and the rest of his family, even their dog. I have learned so much and have laughed and cried. Recently, he gave me bread for my dinner. It made me cry. In that act, he gave me his heart.
I have respected and loved this man and his wife for, I believe, longer than I have known them.
Is there a way I can get copies of your pictures? It would mean much. Please contact me at the above e-mail if you are so inclined.
Thank you again, for your sensitive and thoughtful article about a wonderful man with love for the world.
(Oh, could you NOT autoplay a loud talking Flash slideshow at the bottom of the article where no one can see where the sudden sound is coming from? Thanks.)
Ian
Thanks for sharing this with so many of us who only knew him as a street vendor.
the side of him that all of you have written about is the side of him i have always wanted to be like!! this kind, warm ,good hearted ,generous, giving , strong man.
i grow up with a another side of him, one unlike the man you are talking about. i wanted to be nothing like this side of him!!
i am happy that the side you all write about is the one i loved!!
i wish that i could have been like the strangers he touched, than maybe i could have had good memories too!!!
he is gone now.....so now i ask for forgiveness for him and pray for him.
he is my dad and i love him!!!!!!
his daughter,
soul
I send my prayers for his soul's journey, may he be reunited with Mountain. And my heart goes out to his family, Soul and her brothers and of course Phoenix.
Soul, your comments were so heart-felt and honest.What a wise woman you have become!
Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Rahim.
I have recently discovered that Musaw, Sahki's son, has been stealing my ATM debit card and filling his pockets quietly. He has been able to do this because I have opened my home and my life to him and invited him to be a part of it.
When he would leave to "go to the store", he would grab my ATM card and use it to get hundreds of dollars out at a time, all the while pretending that it never happened.
How much money has been stolen from me, by him over the course of 2 years, the time that I have known him? I don't know yet. I am almost scared to find out, the whole situation is already nauseating.
I do know that just over the last 2 days, $1000 was stolen by him.
When I confronted Musaw with this, he denied it and literally ran away in his van(the van that I originally bought for his mother, Pheonix), hitting a parked car on his way out as he could not get away fast enough.
He said to me, "you'll never be able to prove it" over text message.
There is a a secret that is being kept and nurtured here within this family. Because it is kept hidden,
the secret remains all powerful.
I implore all of you to come clean, face the truth, and do what's right.
Otherwise, more and more crimes will take place in the name of this secret, and needless suffering will continue to effect not only this family but many many others in an indirect way.
We all share this Earth, this is my home just as it is yours.
I will not bring children into this world because there are too many lies being told and too much suffering going on because of those lies.
This stealing, lying, secrecy, acting only in self-interest, pretending we are on God's VIP list while others are not? It all needs to STOP.
Extortion and identity theft is no "joke", Musaw.
He specifically seeks people out with the sole purpose of getting into their physical, emotional, and psychological "space". He looks for fears and weaknesses that he can use for his ultimate goal of extracting resources without actually working for them himself. He sees his "victim" as a "well of recourses" that he can tap into. Similar to tapping into an oil well. Then he'll "work" for as long as possible to slowly, yet steadily, drain as many resources from his "host" as he can. All the while, completely disrespecting the human, the person, the life itself, all to fill his pockets and feel the excitement of it all.
This is going on, in every level of our culture, because of this sickness of our belief systems, our oceans are turning black and red from man's greed.
Because of the nature of this type of "business", it is necessary for Musa to attack his victim quietly, on a psychological/emotional level.
Like his father, he has charming qualities to his personality and uses these qualities to gain attention and trust.
Why are we teaching our children to honor what is not here, and ignore what is?
We honor the dead, yet we disrespect Life?
I will not support those who use this planet as their own personal trash dump.
What did he do to deserve his fate? It seems that someone here has the answer to this question.
Where is his memorial story? Where is his mother, his father, his brother, his sister?
Was he not as "important" as Mr. Gulestan?
Then they move on to the next victim
If you only know one thing about psychology, you should know about sociopaths. Being aware of sociopaths could help you avoid emotional trauma, ruined finances, even an untimely death.
Sociopathy, also called psychopathy, is a personality disorder characterized by deceit on a scale most of us cannot imagine. These men and women are not crazy; they know exactly what they are doing. Here is how Robert D. Hare, Ph.D., begins his book about psychopaths, Without Conscience:
"Psychopaths are social predators who charm, manipulate and ruthlessly plow their way through life, leaving a broad trail of broken hearts, shattered expectations and empty wallets. Completely lacking in conscience and feelings for others, they selfishly take what they want and do as they please, violating social norms and expectations without the slightest sense of guilt or regret."*
Why is it so critical for you to know about sociopaths? Because millions of sociopaths are living among us. Yes, many of them are criminals, locked up in jail. But far more are on the street, hurting people without breaking laws, operating in the gray areas between legal and illegal, or simply eluding the authorities. They can appear to be normal, but they pose a tremendous threat to us all.
Sociopaths exhibit a range of behaviors. In fact, Dr. Hare diagnoses them according to their score on a scale. So just as you could describe someone's intelligence as ranging from smart to genius, you could describe a sociopath as somewhere between sleazy and serial killer. If you see sleazy, he or she may be on the low end of the scale, but they're still bad news.
Once they are adults, sociopathic men and women do not change. They cannot be rehabilitated. The sooner you can get away from them, the better off you'll be.
these games we play
another dollar notha day
go buy
self somethin
figure it out
maybe i c u where
the light comes in
pulsating rythym
touching bare skin
reminds me of a day
we once knew
so many years go by
and now my baby brand new
sit quietly. Try not to judge
so harshly.... U dont know me
i only knew what i thought i could
Maybe u wouldnt
Loves an evaluation of sacrement
U can go figure on that
Peace love planet yea
I try not to speak
Until the place is my own testament
Not followin soldiers battlin the weak
Minds an easy game to play
And u only uncover what u wanna say
b i s m a l a h
wow, sounds like a movie if you ask me... but nobody did so i keep it quite like that...
I stop by to talk about the here and now... we have to let go of what keeps us from feeling Bliss in the ever present NOW....
and I come here now to share about community... sustainablity.... here check me on next comment box would ya
from the street corners where we groomed ourselves
into something we could dream and talk about
cigarette ashes soon became our playground of refugee until one day we looked at each others faces grown old within the clouds of what we had once hoped for yet been to afraid to ask the universe
That man grew feathers from my heart... my shaman of soul who took my hand and held it until we crossed over that street corner into the light of day...
And I swear to you i became born again upon those wings he shown me.... my heights are no longer afraid of the faces in the room whom might know and call upon me
the message is always clear my friend...
home is being created in palaces, where our children will grow and pick the fruit right from the trees we shall gather under
my heart is open to express, to feel, where again the moment is always the narrative to the story and i am a child of the light birthed into the feminine wonder of where women go when in search of truth.
when people do not drive cars anymore... where will they go?
when there are no bank accounts what do have?
Take each challenge as a blessing even if a fool throws it upon your back... for you were the one turned around in the first place...
check out community project happening NOW
may the Phoenix always remember, she has a spot at my table anytime too. Peace Mothers of the World, Peace brothers of the world, Peace my sisters of the world... we will find Harmony among our people
EMLILAH KYYBOA
http://archives4thinkingpeople.blogspot.com/
6 months premeditated murder.
It's ugly, no poetry involved.
It's the ugliest for the one who is having his head cut off while his hands are cuffed behind his back.
No poetry involved.
Where is his " BISMALAH"?
Where's the sweet poetry about love and peace for him?
Was anyone reciting poems to him while knifing his neck?
We teach our children they can get away with murder and then we recite poetry about LOVE?
I will pray for your friend, our friend Musaw. May he know he is child of God, renewed in the holy light of each his own resurrection. Peace and love has been set free among is. Blessed in the holy mothers embrace, blessed in the holy fathers embrace, and blessed in the arms of the children in which hold the future.... Amen, bismalah enshalah, shabbot shalom. The trinity in which we live casts our future.
Pray w us now sister Ashley, pray and be set free from all your troubles of the worried mind.
EmLilah
EmLilah
I am aware of my rights.
The simple fact that I am here means that I have the right to my life. I have the right to be here on this earth and I have a basic right to my property. I do not have the right to steal the property of another person, I do not have the right to plan out and carry through in action robbing another person of their property. I do not have the right to rob another person of their life either. I do not have the right to kill you or anyone unless I am being threatened, in real physical time, with a violent attack that is meant to seriously harm or hurt me. That's the only time I have a right to take another life. That's the only time anyone has a right to take another life.
This is basic rights we're talking about here. You can talk about spirituality all day long, but if you are knowingly and deliberately disregarding the basic rights of others and justifying it with talk of spiritual superiority, then that's unacceptable.
EmLilah
You probably don't remember me but I do recall the day when I visited your household with your mom. Your father and Lisa were friends of mine. I spent time with them when I had no place to live. I helped a little at the stand and they gave me food and shelter.
I am writing to you to let you know that I do understand your comment on this site. I remember you as a beautiful young girl torn apart between worlds. You wanted to be free in the middle of a very strict family. I even recall feeling sorry for you. This corrupted world made you rebellious and though I wished you could explore freedom, I also knew this so called freedom comes with a price. I hope that by now you understand that your father, in his own way, was simply concerned for your soul.
Wishing you the very Best!
Suzanne