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Shottas
Jamar Graham
Biographical information
Aliases

Rasta, Jamar

Nationality

Kingston, Jamaica

Born

1970 July 23nd

Physical description
Ethnicity

Jamaican

Height

1'81

Hair color

Black, short dreads

Eye color

Black

Skin color

Dark Brown

Portrayed By

Paul Campbell

Familial and political information
Known family

Rose Roaper(Mother) Lionel Watson(Father)

Affiliations

Trench Town Borretoz

Miscellaneous information
061103 inside shotta

Former members of Trench Town Borretoz (Names from left to right) Jamar, Mous and Bunja photographed by unknown photographer.

ChildhoodEdit

Life in JamaicaEdit

Jamar was born on 23nd July of 1970 in Kingston, Jamaica. Jamar like most of Jamaicans born in so called ,,Garrisons".Jamar never went to school as due to his family’s lack of money, he forced himself into a life of drugs and gang culture. By the 1976's when he was in his childhood, an economic crash plummeted Jamaican into violence and poverty. At this time, the only thing that was selling was drugs imported from Columbia and picture of a gunshot in your enemies head. Jamar caught onto this and by the time he was 17, he’d become the youngest ‘Gully man’ in the history of the Trench Town Borretorz. His job was to traffic the drug-money from the soldiers dealing, and delivering it to the Don, ‘Bunja’, Jamar's best friend. ‘Bunja’ was the most respected guy in the garrison. He protected the residents, and he delivered the gold of the community, cocaine. But then one day, everything changed..

His friend and Don ,,Bunja" gets shot by a rival Posse and gets himself injured in the battle. After Bunja's death Garrison started to fall apart by constant battles for a Don title and daily attacks by rival Posses. After two weeks later Jamar wakes up in the hospital with dear people around him. They tell him about today's situation making Jamar fall into misery and sadness. But one of Jamar's friend 'Mous' give him a note from Bunja. Jamar looks at the note which was saying:


Dear Young Jamar.

Since the time you were born, to the time you are now, I’ve watched you. In no other youte I’ve seen what you’ve got. That’s why I’ve written this, so I know things will keep in check if I ever pass, and I suppose now your reading it, I’ve passed. I don’t want you to run the garrison, I want you to go to Los Santos, and there you will start some business connections. This is a much bigger task, you’ll traffic people in, to do the work on the streets, and keep a good supply.

Good luck.

Brother love for ever.


After reading a note. Jamar realized that he will do this for Bunja memorial. After two weeks later. His friends got him a visa to United States. After this he knew that he's leaving this country forever and now Jamar goes to meet his destiny ,,Get rich and famous or tie tryin"


Adult ageEdit

Life In Los Santos CityEdit

During the 20 years between the 1970s to the 1990's, power of area East Los Santos (ELS) had shifted between the biggest street gangs ever seen in Los Santos, from Los Santos Vagos, Grove Street and most recently The Ballas. For many years, this area had been the criminal capital, heart and heaven; where mafias such as San Fierro Rifas and the Russian Mafia joined in on the fun. Possibly the most successful was The Ballas, who flooded the area with narcotics and were making serious money. They also used this ‘hood’ to launch attacks on Grove Street with sometimes dyer destruction. But as they say, all good things come to an end. Two weeks after Jamar's arrival in Los Santos, and after many nights sleeping rough in the underground car-park of East Los Santos, he finally received his money via Western Union. Before he’d left, he had made his mother promise to send him his money his mum had saved for his University fees. It was just about enough to buy himself a room at Jefferson Motel, permanently. But like a stray cub, he felt dragged from his den. Somewhere, even in the god-forsaken times of sleeping rough in the car-park of East Los Santos, he’d made a connection with the area of East Los Santos, where something was there which reminded him of home. Since his arrival, Jamar had built his reputation up slowly but securely. He’d trafficked people into the country on illegal documents in order to join him in the quest to take in some money. For many months, he’d worked closely with ‘The Ballas’, working in their factory and commanding pushers into different legions. He had been clever, instead of joining ‘The Ballas’ and have to take orders, he’d shadowed their winnings, and took his shares. He’d watched the underworld closely, he watched the rise of Grove Street and the Aztecas and he had chosen his cards wisely. After the big-raid of The Ballas’ factory, and ultimately the collapse of the gang, Police interest in the area had increased, and therefore it’d been wise to hold back his illegal activities, which others did. But soon, the police began to draw back, as crime decreased. By 1991, Police impression on the area was a stranger, no-one knew it. The area had returned to its 1990s ghetto but crime stayed low as no-one pushed it. By 1992 he knew it was time, he called home for some more people to be trafficked to work as pushers. He brought his old friends to Los Santos. Then the party started.

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