This story was produced as part of our Writing Heals program, in which we first hire a family member of the deceased to write the story of the loved one they lost. Then they can choose to write about more victims. For more information or to sign up to write about someone you lost to gun violence, click here. 
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By David Bratcher, who first wrote about his brother, Tyrek Dunn

With summer around the corner, the plans were simple for Kahijah Jackson and her friends.

“Girl, we are hanging out every day,” her friend Lora Jhene recalled.

As their Saturday night adventures began, the girls found themselves waiting for a train when Kahijah’s natural confidence took over.

“She started blasting this song, and before you know it, she had six people dancing, hyping us up,” Lora said. “She was always confident and courageous.”

Kahijah was born and raised in the Ogontz area in a household filled with laughter and chaos. As the eldest of four children, she took on the role of caretaker, guide and confidante. During family gatherings, she would organize backyard dance routines for her younger siblings. From an early age, it was clear that Kahijah had a spark that set her apart.

Friends and family called her “Hijah.” To some, she was also “Pooh,” a nod to her gentle and affectionate nature. Whether she was gathering her younger cousins for a game of tag or sharing the latest viral video while texting with a friend late at night, Kahijah had a way of drawing people in.

Even as a teenager, Kahijah had clear ambitions. She dreamed of becoming a pediatric nurse because she wanted to care for children. While attending Mastery Charter, she worked hard in school and was determined to pursue scholarships and internships.

Her dedication to her family remained just as important. On weekends, she tutored her siblings in math or cooked dinner so her parents could rest after a long week at work.

For Hijah, it was almost always a good time to stop and take a picture, and being in front of the camera came naturally to her. She never had to force a smile or pretend to be enjoying herself.

“The definition of photogenic,” her friend Devin DuPoint said. “One thing Hijah was going to do was take a flick.”

Dancing offered another way for her to enjoy herself and escape the negativity around her. One of her favorite party mixes was “Dance My Pain Away,” and she could lose herself in the rhythm,even when she was alone. She also had a knack for picking up choreo.

“I swear she would see the routine one time, and then five minutes later already be posting her own version,” Lora recalled.

Hijah was not afraid to try something new or put herself in an uncomfortable situation. For her, it was a chance to learn from other people and figure out what she wanted from life.

She also showed up when the people she loved were struggling. When her best friend experienced depression, Kahijah would remain on the phone for hours, refusing to hang up until she heard her friend laugh again.

To those who knew her well, Kahijah was the definition of loyalty. She spoke candidly and did not sugarcoat the truth, but even her toughest conversations came from a place of care.

“She’d call me out when I needed it,” said Devin, who met her in middle school. “But she did it with love, like, ‘Devin, you’re better than this. Step up.’ That nudge changed me for the better.”

Kahijah supported her friends’ dreams while also keeping them grounded. At school, lunchtime could turn into an impromptu dance floor as she coaxed her friends out of their seats to see who could learn the latest TikTok routine first. She often walked through the school hallways with her earbuds in, listening to her favorite R&B songs.

Her outgoing nature was not reserved for people she already knew. At bus stops, stores and community events, Kahijah was quick to offer someone a compliment or a smile.

On May 6, 2024, Kahijah’s body was found several weeks after she had been reported missing. In the wake of her death, Devin and her other loved ones have struggled to put the size of their loss into words.

“Kahijah taught me what it meant to stand by someone through storms,” Devin said. “When my grades were slipping senior year, she hosted study sessions in her living room. She believed in me more than I did. She was a huge part of me graduating on time.”