Eissa, the seven-year-old son of Janet Jackson, is beginning to display his musical abilities, suggesting he may be following in the footsteps of his famous mother.
Here’s a closer look into the young boy’s life:
As the youngest of ten Jackson siblings, Eissa is a descendant of a musical legacy. Janet, now 57, began her career on the variety show The Jacksons, which showcased her eight siblings. Tragically, her twin brother Brandon died at birth in 1957, leaving Janet and her siblings to navigate the world of music together.
Janet’s brothers—Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, and Michael—rose to fame as the Jackson 5 after signing with Motown Records in 1968, while her sisters Rebbie and LaToya also forged their paths in the music industry.
Path to Fame
After the family show ended in 1977, 10-year-old Janet landed a leading role in the hit TV series Good Times, followed by parts in Diff’rent Strokes and Fame. However, it was her music that propelled her to fame. Known for hits like “Together Again,” “That’s the Way Love Goes,” “Nasty,” and “Love Will Never Do (Without You),” Janet has earned numerous accolades and has several multi-platinum albums, including Control, Rhythm Nation 1814, and Janet. Her 1982 debut album, Janet Jackson, marked the beginning of her success, but it was her third album, Control (1986), that established her as a major artist in her own right, separate from her brother Michael Jackson, the “King of Pop.” Control earned her three Grammy nominations and nine American Music Award nominations, winning two.
Eissa Jackson Today
Born on January 3, 2017, Eissa Al Mana is inheriting the musical gifts of his mother, who was 50 at the time of his birth with then-husband Wissam Al Mana. Although the challenges of giving birth at that age were daunting, Janet’s delivery was healthy and without complications.
“Janet Jackson and husband Wissam Al Mana are overjoyed with the arrival of their son Eissa Al Mana. Janet had a smooth delivery and is resting comfortably,” a representative stated.
However, just three months after Eissa’s birth, the couple ended their five-year marriage, marking Janet’s third divorce.
According to her brother Randy, Janet faced “verbal abuse” from Al Mana and felt “trapped in her own home.” Randy mentioned, “Enough is enough. There’s a lot of pain. Janet’s been through a lot with her divorce… It was quite an abusive situation that escalated over time.”
In June 2018, Janet called the police for a welfare check while Eissa was with his father, fearing he might be exposed to drugs. Fortunately, Eissa was found safe, and the situation was clarified as a misunderstanding. Neither Janet nor Wissam has commented on the incident.
After the separation, the “When I Think of You” singer expressed her commitment to being an active mother. “Being a working mom is tough. I don’t have a nanny. I handle everything myself. If my mother managed with nine kids, I can too,” Janet reflected, referring to their matriarch, Katherine, who turned 93 in May.
First Photo of Eissa
Janet adeptly juggles her demanding career and motherhood. “I’m in a wonderful place,” she shared. “I have a beautiful son.”
Her friends even call her Superwoman, though Janet humbly disagrees, crediting her newfound energy to Eissa’s inspiration.
The superstar is protective of her son’s privacy, but occasionally shares glimpses of their life. She posted the first photo of Eissa when he was just 14 weeks old, shortly after her separation from Al Mana. She also shared pictures with Eissa and his classmates enjoying gifts from the show Paw Patrol.
In an Instagram clip, Janet excitedly updates fans about her tour when she is interrupted by Eissa seeking her attention.
During her Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction speech in 2019, Janet fondly acknowledged Eissa. “I want to thank my beautiful son. He wakes me up every morning singing his own melodies. You are my heart and my life, and you’ve shown me what true, unconditional love is. Mama loves you, Eissa.”
While appearing on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon in 2020, she shared that Eissa has a passion for music. “He loves classical music. He’s incredibly talented,” she noted. “On his first day of school, he brought a violin. By the third day, he asked to take a cello. I told him we didn’t have a cello, but he insisted I should turn his violin into one.”
Despite Eissa’s evident musical potential, Janet has stated she wouldn’t pressure her children into the entertainment industry unless it was their genuine desire. “They need to understand the challenges they would face,” she explained.
Above all, Janet feels immensely grateful for the love of her son. Eissa is currently being raised in London, where Janet shares parenting responsibilities with her ex-husband.
“Eissa has shown me that love can go deeper than you ever thought possible. It’s limitless,” Janet expressed. “Having been raised in showbiz, where self-interest often prevails, I’m fortunate to prioritize someone else’s welfare above all else.”
Banking Consultant Mocked My Postpartum Wife after Seeing Her ID – I Came Back a Few Days Later to Teach Him a Lesson
Banking Consultant Mocked My Postpartum Wife after Seeing Her ID – I Came Back a Few Days Later to Teach Him a Lesson
We had just welcomed our baby girl, and the postpartum period was tough on my wife Sarah. She gained weight and was exhausted. Last week at the bank, a rude consultant mocked her after seeing her old ID photo. How dare he? Furious, I went back a few days later to teach him an unforgettable lesson.
Hey everyone! Just your average new dad Edward here, sleep-deprived and running on cuddles (because hello, endless diaper changes!), but utterly smitten with my 8-week-old daughter, Lily.
A man holding a newborn baby | Source: Unsplash
She’s a total peanut with the cutest chubby cheeks and the softest hair you’ve ever seen. Being a parent is pure magic, don’t get me wrong. The gurgles, the coos, the way she lights up at the sound of your voice… pure symphony.
But man, nobody warned me about the postpartum period. It’s like this relentless beast that snuck in and stole the sunshine from my normally radiant wife, Sarah. Dark circles under her eyes, constant exhaustion… you get the picture?
Happy and peaceful mother cuddling with her child | Source: Pexels
Anyway, this story is about something that happened a few days ago, and I gotta get it off my chest. So buckle up, because it involves a jerk of a bank consultant who RIDICULED my postpartum wife and a FIGHT for a little bit of decency. Let’s go!
Sarah needed to hit the bank for some monotonous grown-up stuff. It wasn’t like brain surgery, you know? Just a quick in-and-out to get things sorted.
Woman with her baby in bedroom | Source: Pexels
“I’ll be quick!” she promised, throwing on a comfy dress, pulling her hair back in a messy ponytail (because hello, newborn!), and plastering on a smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but you hope does the trick.
Fast forward to later that night, and that smile was nowhere to be found. Instead, there were tear tracks and a trembling voice. Turns out, some middle-aged punk named Mark at the bank decided to unload on my wife.
The woman with her messy ponytail | Source: Midjourney
Sarah told me this jerk looked at her ID, then right at her (looking a little more “mom” than her pre-baby pic, which, duh!), and smirked, loud enough for the ENTIRE freaking bank to hear, saying:
“Wow, this must be an old photo. Motherhood’s been… DIFFERENT for you, huh?”
Man in suit pointing his finger | Source: Pexels
“I was MORTIFIED, Ed,” Sarah choked out, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Like, completely destroyed. All I wanted to do was vanish. But I forced myself to finish the transaction, holding Lily close like a shield. As soon as I could, I practically ran out of that bank, just wanting to get us both as far away from that jerk as possible.”
My blood went from lukewarm to lava in about two seconds. Who says that to someone, especially a new mom who’s already dealing with a million things?
Sad mother embracing her baby | Source: Pexels
I was LIVID. Sarah, my beautiful, strong Sarah, had been broken by a stranger’s cruelty. How dare someone be so heartless?
There was no way I was letting this slide. Sarah deserved better, and this bank, this place that allowed such behavior, needed an unforgettable lesson.
But storming in, fists flying, wouldn’t solve anything. I needed a plan, something calculated and effective. Something that would hit them where it hurts, you know?
Man pondering over his next actions | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, I snagged a sick day and marched into the bank, revenge simmering in my gut. I clutched a briefcase and scanned the room.
There he was, behind the counter, a middle-aged man with slicked-back black hair and a bored expression tapping away at his computer. A name tag proudly displaying the most punchable name in existence: “MARK.”
This was it. Show time.
Mark typing on a keyboard | Source: Midjourney
“Hello,” I approached him, extending a firm hand. “I’m considering transferring a significant amount of money here, but I need to be confident my funds are in trustworthy hands.”
Mark’s gaze flickered to the briefcase, then back to me. His bored expression morphed into something akin to excitement.
“Absolutely, sir,” he said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “We’d be happy to assist you. How much are we talking about?”
Man placing his black briefcase on the table | Source: Pexels
I placed the briefcase on the counter, opened it slightly to reveal stacks of cash, and then closed it again.
“A considerable amount,” I replied, pausing for effect before adding, “enough to make a significant impact. Five million… in solid cash! But before we proceed, I need to speak with your manager.”
I could literally see dollars popping out of Mark’s eyes. He scurried to fetch Mr. Reynolds, the bank manager.
Briefcase with cash | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Reynolds, a portly man with a receding hairline, approached with a practiced smile that faltered slightly at the sight of the briefcase.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he greeted. “How can we assist you today?”
I cleared my throat. “As I was saying,” I began, “I’m interested in opening a new account, but customer service is paramount to me.”
Man offering a handshake | Source: Pexels
Mr. Reynolds puffed out his chest. “Of course, sir. We pride ourselves on excellent customer service and treating everyone fairly.”
I nodded, my gaze flickering to Mark, who was now studiously avoiding eye contact.
“That’s good to hear,” I said, my voice dropping a notch. “Because my wife visited this very bank a few days ago and was subjected to a rather UNPLEASANT experience.”
A collective intake of breath filled the air. Mr. Reynolds’s smile vanished completely. Mark, finally meeting my gaze, looked like a cornered animal.
A startled man covering his face | Source: Pexels
“She was ridiculed by one of your consultants,” I blurted out, the fury in my eyes speaking volumes. “Mocked for not looking EXACTLY like her ID photo, which, by the way, was taken before the little miracle of childbirth.”
The color drained from Mark’s face. He probably knew where this was going. Mr. Reynolds cleared his throat, his brow furrowed in what seemed like genuine concern.
Man intensely staring ahead of him | Source: Pexels
“I… I apologize for that, sir. It won’t happen again,” he said.
“An apology won’t cut it,” I countered, leaning forward. “The point is, trust is CRUCIAL in banking. How can I entrust my money to an institution that employs people who can’t treat customers with basic RESPECT and EMPATHY?”
Mr. Reynolds shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, I assure you, such behavior is not tolerated here.” He shot a withering look at Mark, who mumbled something inaudible.
Man talking behind a glass panel | Source: Pexels
“Words are cheap,” I retorted, pushing the briefcase shut with decisive finality.
“My wife was hurt and humiliated. That’s a fact. And frankly, the thought of my hard-earned money lining the pockets of someone who thinks it’s okay to make fun of a new mother for something as natural as childbirth… it DISGUSTS me.”
The silence in the bank stretched. Mr. Reynolds seemed to be weighing his options, his gaze darting between me and the briefcase. Mark, his face flushed a deep crimson, looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.
Annoyed man with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels
“I understand your frustration, sir,” Mr. Reynolds finally replied. “Perhaps we can discuss this further in my office?”
Seeing the shame etched on Mark’s face and the flicker of understanding in Mr. Reynolds’s eyes, I decided to press my advantage.
“Very well,” I agreed, following Mr. Reynolds into his wood-paneled office.
Wood paneled office | Source: Midjourney
Once inside, Mr. Reynolds closed the door and gestured for me to sit. “Can you tell me more about what happened to your wife?” he asked, his voice devoid of the practiced cheerfulness.
I recounted the incident, my voice low but firm, reliving Sarah’s humiliation through my own anger. Mr. Reynolds listened intently, his expression grim. When I finished, he sighed deeply.
“This is unacceptable,” he uttered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “Let me assure you, Mr…”
“Fisher,” I replied.
Man seated in his office | Source: Pexels
“Mr. Fisher,” he continued. “We will take appropriate action. Mark will be reprimanded, and we will be reviewing our customer service training program to ensure such an incident never happens again.”
I remained unconvinced. “Actions speak louder than words, Mr. Reynolds.”
He seemed to understand. “We’d like to make amends,” he offered in a polite tone. “Perhaps a small token of our apology? A complimentary financial consultation, perhaps?”
A man in suit looking ahead | Source: Pexels
The offer held no appeal. A complimentary financial consultation to make up for DISRESPECTING my wife? Hard pass, buddy!
“The only amends,” I declared, standing up, “are ensuring this never happens again and making sure your staff understands the importance of treating every customer with dignity, regardless of their appearance.”
Mr. Reynolds nodded curtly. “We understand. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Mr. Fisher.”
A man looking to his side with a shocked expression | Source: Pexels
I walked out of the bank, the briefcase still in my hand, feeling strangely triumphant. Maybe, just maybe, my little act had made a difference.
Later that evening, a knock on the door startled us. Sarah, still recovering from the emotional turmoil of the past few days, answered cautiously. A man she instantly recognized stood on the doorstep, holding a bouquet of tulips and a sheepish expression.
It was Mark.
A man holding a bouquet of tulips | Source: Midjourney
“Mrs. Fisher…” he stammered as he cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “I… I just wanted to say I’m extremely sorry for what happened the other day. My comment was completely out of line and hurtful. And I feel awful about it.”
Sarah glanced at me, then back at Mark.
He launched into a heartfelt apology, explaining how my visit had opened his eyes and how committed he was to being more compassionate in the future. Sarah graciously accepted his apology, and after a brief conversation, Mark left.
Man apologizing to the couple | Source: Midjourney
That night, as I held her close, the tightness in my chest finally eased.
I walked into that bank angry but walked out with something far more valuable: victory for empathy, JUSTICE for my wife, and a reminder that even the smallest fight for what’s right can send ripples out into the world.
A question still lingers in my mind: What would you have done in that situation? Would you have confronted the perpetrator or walked away? Let me know how you would handle such a situation.
A man smiling | Source: Pexels
Leave a Reply