RAGE REROUTES LIVES
Beating victim, family struggle in aftermath of life-changing incident
Alassane Sy, 68, immigrated from West Africa to Memphis more than a decade ago to improve his lot, relishing his life in a small house with a vegetable garden in Whitehaven and his job as a warehouse forklift driver. Now he spends his days in a nursing home, unable to remember his name.
The Memphis husband and father is fighting to recover from brain damage more than two and a half years since he was struck in the back of the head with a baseball bat during a parking dispute.
When his children or wife, Kadia, stand by his bedside anxious to reconnect, he doesn’t recognize them.
“Why?” Kadia Sy, 43, said, as tears formed, during a recent interview in a modest apartment the family moved to after losing their house to foreclosure after the 2012 attack.
“The kids want him to come home,” the victim’s wife said. “They ask me, ‘Mom, what happen to my Daddy? Tell my Daddy to come back. I love him.’ ”
Sy’s wife and nine children are struggling to cope with his absence, to pay rent and other bills and to understand what caused a parking dispute to escalate so rapidly and violently.
The Sys’ 8-year-old son, who was his father’s shadow, and their 5-year-old daughter often burst into tears when they glance at the living room wall which displays a large photo of their father, known for his piggyback rides, sage advice and laughter.
“It’s been nearly three years and he hasn’t gotten any better,” said son Djibril, who assumed a manof-the-house role after the attack at age 17.
“It’s kind of tough,” he said. “I’m doing OK — well, in the middle, just living day by day.”
Before the incident, Djibril had been a happy teen thriving at Sheffield High School academically and on the soccer team with hopes of nabbing an athletic scholarship to college. Now age 20, he said much of the joy he felt has since been overshadowed by the overwhelming responsibility.
ecause his mother speaks little English, he delayed college to assume a paternal role to help his siblings with their homework, talk to prosecutors and police handling the criminal case against his father’s attacker and doctors and nurses. He also found a temporary job as a materials handler for a shipping company to help his mother, who only recently found part-time work doing laundry for an area hotel.
The last time he and his father talked, Alassane Sy drove Djibril and his brother, Amir, then 16, to school April 6, 2012, giving them shin guards and wishing them luck in their final soccer match. Alassane Sy then headed to their mosque to pray.
Hours later, he headed to a Whitehaven strip mall to pick up his wife, who was helping on a busy Friday night at her sister’s African hair-braiding salon. Two of the couple’s boys, then ages 5 and 12, and a 9 year-old relative were in tow.
The father pulled into a parking spot next to a Jeep Cherokee driven by Tanya C. Wilkins, then a 33-yearold waitress. Wilkins accused Sy’s 12-year-old of bumping her vehicle with the passenger door of Sy’s car.
Kadia Sy said she used her limited English to apologize even though the Sys didn’t see any damage.
Wilkins kept shouting and cursing, the Sys said. Her son, then 15-year-old Mariquez Moore, grabbed a bat from the Cherokee and struck Alassane Sy in the back of the head, knocking Sy to the pavement in an incident captured on a security camera, prosecutors allege. Police say Wilkins then hurried her son from the scene of the crime.
Moore, indicted on attempted first-degree murder and aggravated assault charges, and his mother, charged with accessory after the fact, are awaiting trials in January.
The teen could face 1525 years in prison if convicted, while the felony charge against his mother can bring one to two years in jail.
A month after the attack, Wilkins wept in Shelby County Juvenile Court and mouthed threats to Kadia Sy after a judge transferred her son to adult court, the Sys said.
Then, in the public lobby outside the courtroom, Wilkins shouted death threats at the Sys in front of citizens, courthouse security and officers in court for other cases, witnesses said.
Kadia Sy said Wilkins then followed behind her down the interstate, shouting, “I’m going to kill you and your kids!”
So prosecutors charged Wilkins with coercion of a witness, which can bring two to four years in jail.
“The mother was looking for some type of trouble,” Djibril said.
“He should be locked up for good,” he said of Wilkins’ son. “His mom, too. She gave him that type of influence and was encouraging him.”
Djibril and his brother, Amir, a 19-year-old University of Memphis student, graduated from high school without their father, who stressed education. Both say they will major in criminal justice and become police officers.
“When I see kids fighting, I always step in the middle,” said Djibril. “I’m a leader instead of a follower.”
He is currently shopping for a college outside Memphis.
“Memphis? This will make me completely avoid it,” Djibril said. “Every day, you turn on the news and there’s something to see, the violence and the crime. Over and over.
“People blame the police. It’s not the police,” the 20-year-old said. “The problem is the people, people in our generation.”
His 17-year- old sister, Mariem, said she is anxious for her father’s alleged attacker’s trial and hopes he doesn’t receive a lesser punishment because of his age.
“He took my Dad’s life away,” she said. “They should punish him for that. He knew what he was doing.
“I would love to go to court and fight for my dad.”
Mariem, who was a little girl when she had moved to America with her family, said her family was touched by the way many Memphians rallied around them with prayers, cards and donations.
“It showed me people care about you,” said Mariem, an aspiring obstetrician-gynecologist. “It doesn’t matter where you come from or your background.”
“I want people to see this story isn’t ending. He’s still fighting for his life. I don’t want people to forget.”