My Life Before Trial by Caleb Deltoro

My Life Before Trial

Caleb Deltoro

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of, or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017 this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high quality opportunities that nourish the minds,,expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated. Through the process of drafting, revising and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives.

Since January 2017 ConTextos has partnered with Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Cook County Department of Corrections as part of a vision for reform that recognizes the value of mental health, rehabilitation and reflection. These powerful memoirs complicate the narratives of violence and peace building, and help author a hopeful future for human beings behind walls, their families and our collective communities.

While each author’s text is solely the work of the Author, the image used to create this book’s illustrations have been sourced by various print publications. Authors curate these images and then, using only their hands, manipulate the images through tearing, folding, layering and careful positioning. By applying these collage techniques, Authors transform their written memoirs into illustrated books.

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My Life Before Trial Caleb Deltoro

When I was a kid, I was told every story had a purpose. To inform or to entertain, possibly both. I'm now granted the opportunity to write my own story.

Coincidentally, I've been thinking the last few months that when I beat this case, prove my innocence and go home, I have to write a book to inform so many young men and women in the streets and any one who will listen how corrupt the system is and how important it is to stay out of it. But I’m being asked to write a book right now in the midst of battle, in the midst of the battle for my life.

As much as I want to jump right in and take you to my first encounter with the system, I have to give you a backdrop on my life, so you can understand that I'm a person, a son, a father, a Foster father, a living-being, a loved individual by family and friends, and more importantly, that I’m more than just a number. (So let me take you back.) The farthest back I can remember is my transfer to Von Humboldt from Diego. I was in Kindergarden. Von Humboldt was full of kids who lived west of Maplewood street. Coming from Campbell, I was the only one coming to school who lived east of Maplewood. Even as a child I can't help but remember the drastic change in energy whenever Grandpa and I crossed Maplewood on the way to Von Humboldt. I didn't like it. I wanted to go back to Diego where my sister, cousin and friends were. I wanted to go back where I felt I belonged.

If I recall correctly, I wasn't doing well in school. I wouldn't engage, I was quiet and not socializing. I remember my mom set up a meeting with the principal of Diego. She was asking him to let me return to Diego. He explained to her that due to a system change our Campbell address was now a part of Von Humboldt school district. I vividly remember my mother crying and using the words “my son is slipping through the cracks." She explained that her two daughters and her nieces, who all live in the same family home as me, all attend Diego. She continued on saying that my behavior has changed drastically since the transfer.

What momma didn't know was that I had already adjusted to Von Humboldt and my behavior change was no longer because of the transfer. My behavior change was now the consequence of something going on under our own roof. Something momma didn't know about.

My mother had just married for the first time, to a man named Robert. Robert was one of your very own Chicago police officers. I assume this was why my mother was so happy—she found a successful man with an honest career. When mom was at work, Robert would watch my two sisters and I. Isali was 10, I was 6, and Lexi was four. Robert was very strict, his disipline tactics were extreme and in no time at all became child abuse. I remember the day he was yelling at me to put my shorts on. I was so scared I put my shorts on backwards. When he came into the room, he called me so many names that I would never use with a child.

Then he did something that changed my life forever. After beating me like a

grown man, he locked me in the closet for hours. I was 6 years old. I cried for hours, used the washroom on myself multiple times and cried some more. That wasn't the first or last time Robert locked me in the closet.

A few weeks later Robert handcuffed my sister to the kitchen rack for hours. The verbal and physical abuse was destroying us, but the little tactics of mental torture were destroying the little bit of innocence we had left. We were upset, irritated and angry all the time now. My little sister Lexi went to the E.R. because she was always crying and nobody knew why. Come to find out Lexi had a broken arm.

When my mother asked Robert what happened, he told her Lexi fell off the bed.

The whole family knew it was a lie. I figured there was no better time to tell my mom than now. So the next morning when my mom came back from the E.R. She walked in on Robert teaching me how to punch. Mom said "Stop that, I don't want my son learning to hit.” That's when I said something that possibly saved me and my sisters from years of abuse to come. I responded “Why? Robert hits us everyday.”

That night mom packed us up and sent us to Campbell, back to grandma. The next day we had a family meeting. All my aunts and uncles were there. Everyone was sad and quiet. I knew something bad was about to happen. I'll never forget the sound of the knocking on the door. Mom pulled 3 bags of clothes out, one for me, one for Isa and one for Lexi. "Where are we going?” I thought. Then it happened. The lady at the door explained she was from DCFS and was there to

pick up me and my sisters. Just as bad as you picture it, is just as bad as it was.

The crying, the screaming, the "please no," the "mommy don't let them take me," and the "please don't take my kids.” It was the worst day of my childhood, the worst memory, and possibly one of the worst days of my life.

After about a year of bouncing from house to house of different family members, mom got us back. She worked hard and she did it. I wondered why Lexi and I weren't placed with my Dad in the meantime. I guess pops didn't have his own place at the time. He eventually told me that while we were living with Robert, he was looking for us. But the hard part was over. Mom had a new BF named Junior, who would go on to be my stepdad for the next 20 years. Junior never laid a finger on us and treated us like his own and loved us. I was back in Diego and going to my Dad’s every weekend. My grades were good and I made the basketball and swimming teams in the 7th and 8th grade.

I took the bus that summer to check out a new high school that had just opened up, Chicago Bulls College Prep (CBCP). I signed up myself and was the only student there without parents at the open house. I got accepted and started in August 2011. I hit the ground running with a 3.8 GPA. I had the highest batting average for a freshman in all the Noble schools with a .648. I finished freshman year with a 3.5 gpa and placement in all honor classes.

Everything was good till sophomore year. My sister Isali’s grandma told me that while my sisters and I were in DCFS custody, charges were brought up against Robert for child abuse. She also said that my mom accompanied Robert to court and stood beside him while he blamed Lexi’s injuries on the babysitter. I couldn't believe it. As soon as I got home I brought it up.

“How could you take sides with that monster?” This started an argument that would last a lifetime. She and I constantly bumped heads. It seemed like the negative energy would carry on to the next day everyday. Every time I stepped foot in the house, there was tension and nit picking.

I started running away a lot. I would disappear for days. I started working at a factory after school and really stopped talking to my mom. I would stay at grandma’s and fend for myself, buy my own clothes, phone and food. Working and school became overwhelming. Sometimes mom would take me to school and we'd argue the whole way. I'd go to school at 7:30 am with tears in my eyes and pissed off. I wanted so bad just to be on good terms, but she was constantly on me about anything. Sometimes she'd tell my grandma not to let me in. So at this point I was 15 really going couch to couch.

Going to a college prep school and working and finding somewhere to sleep was too much. So I called my dad and asked to live with him and if he could transfer me to Clemente. He did. It lasted almost a year. Pops was strict. It was hard going from raising myself to not being able to leave the house after 7. Eventually we had words and I was back at grandma’s. Senior year came. I was working, going to school and taking care of my cousin. My oldest cousin lost custody of her kids, and to avoid them going to foster homes, my family took them in. Miguel went to my aunt, Joshua to my mom, and my grandma kept Kaylani and Zay. Since I was renting a room from my grandma, I helped with Kay and Zay. Grandma being older, I ended up practically raising them. I’d take them to the park, feed them, bathe them, read them books, cook for them and most importantly love them. Grandma was older and tired, she couldn't do it anymore.

Kaylani went with my mom, who adopted her and Joshua. My aunt Marina adopted Miguel. And Isaiah was supposed to stay with my grandma. She couldn’t handle him so he went to a foster home. I told Isaiah that no matter what, I'll go get him for holidays and he can sleep over. I told him we'd figure it out. I begged my sister Isa to adopt him until I was of legal age. She said she couldn't. So I made Isaiah a promise. I told Isaiah that when I turn 21 I would adopt him and/or take custody of him and become his foster father, a promise that eventually I kept.

No matter what, he will always be my son.

A couple weeks after Zay left my daughter was born. On November 19, 2014, God gave me the most precious gift. I still remember holding her the first time.

I knew right away I would never be a weekend Dad. I was going to be in my daughter's life everyday. I was a senior at Clemente and everyday after school I’d take the Western bus to Irving Park and Irving Park to Harlem to spend the night with my princess. I'd wake up at 5am, change my baby’s diaper, make a bottle, and take the same buses back across the city. I did this everyday till I graduated.

I got accepted to Southern Illinois University, Carbondale. My family, friends, and principal were convincing me to go. I was excited and looking forward to paving the way to success for my family. Then my daughter's mother told me something that stuck with me. She said “so you’re going to go party and live it up at college and leave me to raise the baby alone. “ Those words hit me like a ton of bricks. The best decision for me and my daughter's future was the worst decision for our present. To leave and better our lives meant missing my baby's first steps, words, etc. To stay and not go to SIUC meant I'd be able to be present in my daughter's life, but I'd miss opportunities to become more successful.

I made the decision to stay, and to this day I regret it. Because within 2 years of that choice I had my first encounter with the system. Things were going well. I got my first non-factory job at Red Lobster. I took 2 buses and the train everyday.

I also walked about a mile everyday from Harlem to Cumberland. Rain, shine or snow I went to work. From Humboldt Park to Norridge everyday, I did this for almost a year. I bought my first car at 18 all by myself. The same day I got the car I drove to Leilani's mom's house and told her I got an apartment for us and the baby.

Her family was so proud, they kept saying, "Wow Caleb, you’re moving them in with you!” I didn't have much but we were so happy. I told Jasmine how much I appreciate her for being a great mom and that I love her and Leilani. I want to give Leilani the two parent home I never had. I still remember how happy she was, I'll never forget how happy we were. Everything was good, until I went to get my daughter a gallon of milk.

On May 5, 2017, I was walking up Division to Family Dollar to get a gallon of milk. Upon arriving, a car with four guys pulled up. One got out walking directly towards me. He was approaching me in an aggressive manner. I remember looking behind me thinking “man, who is this guy about to walk up to?” Trying to avoid getting in other people's problems, I crossed the street heading right for the store's entrance. All I heard was "now, now” and the sound of gunshots. I was

just reaching the sidewalk when I saw the glass shatter on Family Dollar's window. I thank God there was a truck dropping food off to Family Dollar. I hid behind the truck. I looked around the truck and the shooter let off five more shots.

That’s when I realized, for whatever reason, I was being shot at. "Now or never I thought.”

I ran up Division into a restaurant. I sat down thinking “what just happened and why?” Within minutes the police come in. "Where’s the shooter?” they asked. I just sat there in shock. Before I can say anything, they asked me what I had in my bookbag. They said they smelled weed, which I did have. I didn't drink or anything but I did smoke, which would end up being legalized a couple years after my arrest. They went into my bag and saw the weed and said I was the shooter. They said they had gangbangers outside some Dz who said I was the shooter. I asked them "how reliable is that source? Are you serious?" They didn't care, it was clear to me their intention was to arrest someone for a shooting, not to find the shooter. They took me to the 14th district. This is where I first encountered how corrupted this system is. They put me in a room and the first thing they did was lie to me. “We got you on camera shooting in front of Family Dollar." I responded “no, you don't. If you had any footage you’d see that I didn't shoot, I got shot at.”

I told them time and time again, “I didn't shoot, I never had a gun.” The second

thing they did was bribe me. "Listen Caleb just get us a gun and you'll go home on self defense,” the officer said. “I don't have a gun to give you. I told you I got shot at." His next statement shocked me. "I know you hid behind the truck.

There's 13 shell casings in front of the truck. It's obvious you got shot at. Just give me a gun, tell one of your lil friends to place it in an alley and I’ll get you home on self defense. That's when I realized, these cops know the truth, they know I didn't do anything. They're not tryna solve a case. They're trying to put the case on anyone they can. That's when I knew, I'm just another Latino male stuck in the system.

These cops could care less about who committed the crime. The last thing I did was something a guilty man would never do. I requested they test me for gun residue. I told them "you think I shot a gun? Test me right now for gun residue.”

The last thing they did was lie again. “There's no test for gun residue. You watch too much TV." On May 5, 2017 those cops attempted to steal my life. They sent me to the county on an Aggravated Discharge of a Firearm, knowing that not only was I not their suspect, I was their victim.

With no video, no gun, no gun residue, I was sent to the county. I was sick to my stomach. All I kept thinking about was my princess, Leilani. The last thing I told her was “Papi going to get milk. I'll be right back.” Now here I was, facing 4-15

years. The cop also lied and said I was going to the county for weed. It wasn't till I reached the county that I found out they put the discharge on me.

My first day I had bond court. The judge looked at me with disgust. He looked me straight in the eyes, while the state went on. It was then that I heard the name of the witness. I knew exactly who the witness was, in fact the witness was one of the four in the car that I saw. That's when the thought popped in my head. "These boys shot at me, then sent their youngest to say I shot at them.” Mind you while the pieces are playing out in my head, I'm in court waiting for a bond. One thing I did was keep eye contact with the judge. I stood there head-high. I had nothing to be ashamed of. With no surveillance, no gun, no gun residue, no proof whatsoever that I committed this crime, other than a statement by a gangaffiliated minor, the Judge set my bond at $450,000, 45K to walk. I wanted so bad to plead my case, to tell him. “Judge, they wouldn’t even test me for GR, I requested it." But I knew I was just another Latino male stuck in the system.

I was sent to Division 2 G house where they were doing prayer circles every night. I felt God’s presence. One day there was a 19 year old kid crying. I offered to pray for him. We went to the window and I started praying for this young man.

I felt a sense of heat, I started getting so hot. I prayed through the heat, but I kept getting hotter and hotter. When I finished the prayer, I turned around and the entire deck was around us two, head bowed and arms locked. What started off as

a prayer for two ended in a prayer with 30 men. The holy spirit was moving.

I remained in the county for 30 days. I was not indicted on aggravated discharge of a firearm. I was only indicted on the cannabis charge. I knew God blessed me.

But I underestimated the blessing because I didn't commit that crime. I didn't acknowledge that while I was, many other innocent men behind me were stuck in one of the most corrupt counties in the country.

Later that year in November of 2017, I agreed to secondary probation for 2 years for the cannabis charge. For 2 years I had to attend two “NA” narcotics anonymous meetings a week, enroll in outpatient treatment and do 100 hours of community service before my probation ended. Before I knew it,I was going to NA meetings on Mondays and Wednesdays and 3 outpatient meetings on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. It was very overwhelming. Every morning of my week I was booked. I worked all afternoon shifts, so I had no time to spend with my daughter, family and friends. My life revolved around probation and work. It made me want to smoke more. Throughout my probation I couldn’t help but think “all this for what, because the day I get off probation, I’m smoking weed.” Not to sound cocky, but it’s the truth. These meetings were taking up days of my life, all while the same state who was penalizing me for cannabis was in the works of legalizing it.

I’d go to court every month in Skokie so the Judge could make sure I didn't miss one meeting. The probation was mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially draining. Outpatient treatment cost thousands of dollars. Did I deserve to live 2 years under such tight measures? I was a working father who never bothered nobody at all. I just smoked a little on my days off. It didn't matter what I went through, it didn't matter if I had a funeral to attend or that I had to watch my daughter Monday through Wednesday mornings. To the state, probation was the only thing that mattered. I was scheduled to come to court and finally complete my probation in October of 2019, one month early. I had to check in with my P.O. in September to do my last drop and turn in my NA meeting sheet.

While waiting for my P.O. in her office, I got a call that my friend got into a car crash. His wife was asking if I could meet her at Stroger Hospital. I told my P.O. I had an emergency. She insisted I drop (urine test) before leaving. I told her, I really need to go if we could reschedule. She said no. So I waited 10 minutes for a male P.O. to go with me to the washroom. While holding the cup, I remember thinking, “my friend could be dying and I’m here trying to pee in a cup.” Sure enough, I couldn't pee. After an awkward 10 mins of “sorry sir, can’t really pee while my friend might be dying.” I finally peed in the cup. Then he told me “that’s enough. It’s not reading.” 25 min had passed and I’m thinking to myself, “If he doesn’t make it, I won’t be able to say goodbye. It’s rush hour.” I told the P.O. “ I’m sorry, I have an emergency and left. My friend didn’t make it. He

passed away an hour after the crash and before my arrival.

No matter what “probation comes first.” I was due in court in October a tough 30 days later. The judge was furious. That Judge did not play about her programs, which I understand, but she had no idea why I didn’t drop twice that day. On October 21st, 2019 the day I was supposed to get off probation, after two long years of treatment that cost thousands of dollars, meetings that cost thousands of minutes, my probation was violated and I was sentenced to 6 months bootcamp following 4 months of house arrest. This 30 gram cannabis charge (which would be legalized within months of this Oct. 21, 2019 date) that took 2 years and 5 months of my life had just been extended 10 months. I was so hurt, for the first time in my life I would miss Leilani's Birthday.

The county bootcamp program, now called VRIC, had changed. What used to be a program that helped members of bootcamp get certifications in trade jobs, barber school, and CDL classes now was substituted with labor work. Instead of learning trades and leaving with job opportunities, VRIC members went to suburbs to knock down foreclosed houses, salvage brick wood or anything profitable to make the county money. One thing didn't change, the staff. From Curry, to Tanchez, to Rivera, Brayback even Gurrero. The drill instructors cared about the men in their program. I know this because they were hard on us. They pushed us and tried everyday to break us down and build new men.

These drill instructors could’ve relaxed and made easy money, but they didn’t.

They were on us everyday trying to break attitudes, bad perspectives and make us better. I appreciated that entire VRIC program although the program doesn’t benefit inmates how it used to--the drills, Sergeant and Lieutenant actually do.

Thank you to all of you. I was in bootcamp from October to April 16th. I got out a month early due to Covid. I also got out the day of my birthday. On my way home, in the back of the sheriff's car with a house arrest box in my lap, I knew I got a gift from God. I wish my story ended here, a happy ending and if you’re reading you must be thinking “how did you end up back in the county to write this book?” In August 2020 the judge granted my probation successful, took me off house arrest and with the completion of probation, came expungement of my cannabis charge.

Meaning I had a clean record.

Free at last I was. After 3 years and 3 months of being in the system, I was free.

The officer in the courtroom said “congratulations you got your life back.”

Although it was kind words, I couldn’t help but take it as a reminder that whenever involved in the system, in the county, penitentiary or on papers they felt your life wasn’t yours.

Ten months. Ten months I was free off of house arrest, papers, everything. I

can’t explain how well and how proud of myself I am for the amount of success I made in that time. In those ten months I got a full time job working as a server, bought a BMW truck and got my own apartment. But most importantly, I became Isaiah’s foster father. That promise I made to him at 17, I kept it. Isaiah moved in with me and my girlfriend and became a son to us. I was the most financially stable I had ever been. I drove to Florida, took my kids to Orlando, life was just good. After the trip to Florida, money got a little tight and a friend of mine suggested I rent my car for some extra cash. He said, “Hell, I’ll pay you a couple $100 to let me use it for a date Saturday night.”

Before you know it I was renting my car every day I didn’t work. Some days I'll take Leilani to the beach. Some days I would take Isaiah to play basketball. I messed up, giving someone your car is like giving someone your house. Anything that happens in or out your property, you will have to answer for it. And it happened on July 12, 2021, I was arrested for an attempted murder. The charge that detains me currently. I was at work when arrested. I couldn’t believe it when the officer told me. I can’t get into detail but I'll say this, I didn’t do it.

The evidence held against me is the same evidence that proves my innocence.

And if you’re following you guessed right the accuser has the same source as in May 2017. A Chicago gang organization the MLDZ. So I told the cops the same thing this time, “is your witness a gang-member? How reliable is that source?”

Nothing makes sense. Why would I drive my car to work everyday if I had knowledge of a crime committed out of it? Why would I be at work everyday if I had knowledge I was a suspect of a crime? Why would I foster a son 3 months before my arrest, if I lived a life threatening my freedom? The answer is all the same, I wouldn’t.

As much as I want to share more, I can’t but I know the pattern can be identified.

The journey in the county this time has been rough, but I’m strong and more importantly God strengthens me. Half way into my bid I went for a bond hearing.

I wish I could’ve spoken up and told the judge this wasn’t the first time a member of this gang organization falsely accused me. I'll never forget my judge’s words “the evidence on this case is less than reasonable doubt.” The first time the judge got a chance to look at my evidence, he said what I knew all along. Anyone with common sense can see the lies in my case. But again I can't get into details.

My first deck was Division 10 4A. Whenever you’re sober minded and sit down and have time to think, you come closer to finding yourself. So what happened in Division 2 G house in 2017 happened on 4A. I found God. I got on my knees and just broke down to God. I told him, “God I'm sorry I've been living life without you and I need you." I prayed every day, and before you know it, the holy spirit was in me. I'd wake up every morning facing 31 to Life

smiling because I can feel God Moving. I didn't stress my Situation I left it in God's hands. It took all the courage in me to scream out "prayer circle in the day room!” I was in Division 10. Everyone on deck was fighting murders, some men had been gone 4, 5, 8 years. But I followed my heart.

Some guys looked confused. Some laughed, but more importantly some came. I called the prayer circle everyday and the circle kept getting bigger. Then something told me to do more, so I started reading scriptures from Matthews or anything I read that day. I'd read then explain. Then I'd explain what God put in my heart that day. I'd tell the guys, "God loves us, only God determines if we go home. The only thing that matters is your kids and God. If you don't have time in jail for God, when all you got is time then you never will…”

Before I continue I want my readers to know that I have made a decision to go to trial. Meaning either I beat the case, or face 31 to life in a maximum security prison facility. I have told you about my life from Kindergarten to my current bid.

I want you to know my thoughts, actions, days of life before I go fight for my life.

The most important part of my bid is my relationship with God. Back to where I left off. It is not easy as soon as you pray for people and change your way of life, people target you. They think you're easy and they try you. But God had me under his wing. I was becoming wiser, my mentality was changing.

My outlook on life was changing. I read the Old Testament and learned about God. How he thinks, how he responds, how he feels. It was amazing to me how many times God forgave the people of Israel. Man did they play with God a lot.

LOL. But God is merciful. One thing stood out to me a lot. In the Old Testament there is a story of when God got fed up with the people of Israel. Tired of forgiving them for worshiping false idols. He told Moses he was going to kill all the people of Israel. Moses responded “why Lord, so the Egyptians could say God freed his people just to kill them?” God changed his plans and forgave them again. Moses changed God's mind. Isn’t that amazing!

So I share this with all incarcerated brothers, if Moses can change God’s mind, we can too. There's no better place to find God than jail. God is watching what we do everyday. My journey in this county has been all about God. God changed the way I think, feel and see. To my readers, let me tell you, God is real. And if you’re in jail reading this listen even closer. God is real! Everything has a creator.

I've had 7 dreams that I beat this case. The book of Daniel tells that God uses dreams to speak to people. I know God wants me to fight for my life and I know I’m going to win. Faith over fear. Don’t ever let someone tell you, “you didn’t pray in the world, so why do you start now?” I’ll tell you why, because God puts people in jail to get their attention. God has given me so many signs. He sat me down for this, so I tell you and anyone who listens that God is real. He’s answered so many prayers and I know he’ll be sending me home.

To my reader, the state wasn’t ready, but we set again for trial Oct 17, 2022.

Today's date is Sep 2, 2022. But by the time you read this I’ll be home. Glory will be to God. I might have lost a year of my life but with my testimony I’m going to save hundreds of lives. Please give God a chance. There is no wrong prayer. Read the Bible to learn about God. Then Jesus. If your Muslim read the Quran.

Religion was made to divide, but there is one creator who watches and grants the righteous.

I'll be home. I'll beat this case. Let my journey be a sign to you that God is real.

He shows mercy on whom he pleases and loves all. Please give God a shot. This is my story, and I believe it was worth it, to save you or anyone who listens. If I can save one life or have one person give their life to God, it was all worth it. I want to thank my mother who has been with me all along and never gave up on me. I love you. My aunts Marina and Miriam, thank you. My grandma Rosa. My daughter's mother Jasmine, what an amazing mom you are. Tina Raddatz, you helped save me. Mama, I love you. And my favorite person in the world, Leilani.

You all kept me going the whole time, when everyone else turned their back you showed up. Leilani, you’re so strong, you’re the best kid in the world. I hope you all are proud of the new man God made me.

Caleb Deltoro I Am From

I am Humboldt Park.

I am Campbell and Potomac.

I am Taco’s nephew I am just another Latino male.

I am teenage fatherhood.

I am Leilani papi.

I am a chosen one I am renewed in Christ.

I am my family’s last male bloodline.

I am Faith over Fear.

I am gifted with spreading God’s message.

I am a man of God. I am innocent.

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright

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