Besides loving sports data, Wahseem Mason was a gamer, and his mother, Nadira Madison, remembers it almost cost her $600 to find out.
Wahseem was in fifth grade, spending another afternoon playing video games and enjoying the experience, but he needed extra money to purchase more levels. The system was already set up in Nadira’s name, including her credit card information. Wahseem thought nothing of it and bought hundreds of dollars in additional games.
“I was like, ‘What are you doing?!'” Nadira recalled, laughing. “He was like, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.'”
She remembers that innocent look, the childlike expression that stayed with his personality into his teen years. Wahseem was lovable to all, she said.
“I didn’t realize how much of a friend he was,” Nadira said. “It was so overwhelming to see how many people said so many good things about him at his funeral.”
Nadira was overjoyed to listen to the stories of how much Wahseem meant to many in his community, on how he counseled fellow schoolmates, more so to lend an ear. She was particularly affected by one struggling student who didn’t have any lunch money one day and Wahseem was kind enough to give him his own cash.
Wahseem was shot Oct. 27, 2020 in the 800 block of South Cecil Street in Cobbs Creek and died on Oct. 29, a few weeks before his 16th birthday on Nov. 15. He is survived by Nadira and his father, Wahkuri Mason along with several sisters on both sides. He also left behind a girlfriend, Chaniyah Graves, and their young son, Nasim.
Police made an arrest in connection with Wahseem’s murder earlier this month.
Although Wahseem loved to joke around and play around like a big kid, he knew to care for his responsibilities. At 6’1″ and with facial hair, Wahseem appeared older than his age and was attractive and charismatic.
He was athletic, played lots of basketball on the street and was a massive Lakers fan. But he also was enamored of the logistics behind the game and focused on sports data. Perhaps he could’ve gone into sports management, Nadira speculated. Wahseem wanted to go to school in Los Angeles.
And although he struggled with home-schooling because of the pandemic, he always took care of business in school when attending in-person, Nadira said. He was your typical boy, wanting to have fun, hang out with friends and play sports but he had a good head on his shoulders and a big heart, Nadira added.
Wahseem was also talented enough to rap and hit the studio to record some tracks. Nadira said she was shocked to see him writing and producing his own music. It was another trait of Wahseem to continue to surprise people with his aspirations.
“He did not deserve to be shot,” Nadira said. “Wahseem always put a smile on your face and that always made you feel good.”
Wahseem kept a picture of Nadira on his phone as a screen saver and called her his “favorite lady.”
Nadira quietly reflects on that for a moment: “He wasn’t afraid to tell you he cared for you and it showed when he said it.”
Wahseem is laid to rest at Chelten Hills Cemetery on Washington Lane in
Philadelphia.
Resources are available for people and communities that have endured gun violence in Philadelphia. Click here for more information.
Date: 2020-10-30
Location: 800 S Cecil St, Philadelphia, PA
