THE 'TURMOIL' OF LIFE AS A DRUG-DEALING GANGSTER

So pervasive is the cult of victimhood in Canadian society that
yesterday in Ontario Superior Court, an acknowledged drug-dealing
gangster who three summers ago gunned down another man in a crowded
public square in downtown Toronto earnestly testified about all "I was
going through" that night and described himself as
"traumatized."

Ajine Stewart, who admits killing Dwayne Taylor but is claiming
self-defence, was testifying on his own behalf at his second-degree
murder trial.

In the early hours of July 31, 2005, at Dundas Square on a Caribana
festival weekend with locals and tourists on the streets by the
thousands, Mr. Stewart twice fired a .30-calibre Smith & Wesson at Mr.
Taylor, his first shot hitting an advertising sign, the second hitting
Mr. Taylor square in the chest.

It was not his gun, Mr. Stewart said, but one he had regular access
to, rather as people now share the use of a vehicle through a car
service - a sort of GunShare, if you like.

If he was fuzzy on the details, Mr. Stewart said at one point, it was
because "I was still in shock. I was going through a lot. I was
scared." One brave Toronto Police officer had tackled him; others were
trying to subdue him. "I was traumatized," he said. "I'd just fired a
gun, I was threatened with being tasered."

On another occasion, Mr. Stewart said, in a delicious malapropism
which echoed earlier testimony from police that he seemed very calm
after the shooting, "My heart was going a mile an hour. I was scared,
I was terrified. It was the worst night of my life. I was going
through so much. There was so much drama."

The defence theory, Mr. Stewart's lawyer, Jeff Milligan, told the jury
in his opening statement, is that his client had availed himself of
the legal right to use deadly force in order to protect his life.

Mr. Milligan said that Mr. Taylor was himself a "very violent,
dangerous young man" who once "threatened his father-in-law with a
sawed-off shotgun" and threatened a female police officer when he was
apprehended "trying to take cocaine into a courthouse."

The issue for the jurors to decide, Mr. Milligan said, is "who was
most likely to be the aggressor" that morning.

However, it may be an uphill road: The shooting was captured on police
surveillance cameras - Mr. Stewart and the muzzle flash from his
borrowed gun are plainly visible on videotape and still photographs
viewed by the jurors - and as prosecutor Paul McDermott reminded them
yesterday, there was "no other gun, no shell casings, no other
bullets" found at the scene.

"I suggest that the reason," Mr. McDermott said, "is because you were
the only one with a gun, you're the only one who fired or had a gun."

Where Mr. Stewart's testimony was enlightening was on the gangster
lifestyle.

The Jamaican-born man, who came to Mississauga as a child, dropped out
of school in Grade 10 to move in with his then-girlfriend, who had a
baby by him, a boy now 7. He started selling marijuana and moved onto
cocaine and crack "because I wasn't making enough money," started
acquiring a criminal record and, about the age of 19, joined the
Crisis Crips, a local branch of the notorious gang.

Asked to explain what the Crips are, Mr. Stewart offered, helpfully,
that "they're different from the Bloods," another infamous gang. Asked
what the "Crisis" meant, he said this was a reference to "the turmoils
in life, the problems you go through."

At some point, he moved in with another woman who had given birth to
his daughter, now 4, and began carrying a knife - then, some months
before the shooting, the gun.

Despite pressure from his mother and the mothers of his children to go
straight, and a brief stint working in a factory, he always chose the
drug dealer's life - even selling while he was on bail, and under
curfew, for a domestic-assault charge that was later withdrawn. It was
in fact at this time, while he was living with his mother, also his
surety, that he met Mr. Taylor. He was a Crip too, Mr. Stewart said,
albeit from a different unit, and a drug dealer, and according to him,
they struck up such a friendship that Mr. Taylor let him sell to his
customer base while he was on bail.

Mr. Stewart's thanks, for this inexplicable generosity, was to steal
Mr. Taylor's customers when the charge was dropped and he could return
home.

While he agreed with Mr. McDermott that some of his contemporaries
stayed in school and worked at real jobs, Mr. Stewart nonetheless
blamed his poor choices on "where I was living and the people around
me."

"You chose another life because it paid better?" Mr. McDermott asked.
"Yes," said Mr. Stewart. "A lot better?" "Yeah," said Mr. Stewart.

He went to Dundas Square only because he was looking for women. "I
love women," he said, "especially from the States."

He took the .38, fully loaded, because, he said, the Caribana
celebration attracts lots of gang members, like him, many of whom are
armed, like him, and he knew that gunfights could break out.

He said he saw Mr. Taylor, who called him over and told him he owed
him money. He tried to get Mr. Taylor alone, away from his friends,
but he wouldn't go; instead, "He was giving me bad looks, looking at
me up and down." He demanded his money. "I told him to fuck off," Mr.
Stewart said. "He said he was going to kill me."

Mr. Taylor allegedly reached for his waistband, so Mr. Stewart reached
for his. He couldn't bow down to Mr. Taylor in public, or run or
holler for police because "My career [as a gangster] would have been
scattered." So he shot, in that square packed with people.

"As I said," he told Mr. McDermott shortly before he left the witness
box, "I went through a lot that night."