The story of baby Zaniyla begins with love. The kind of love that wraps a newborn the moment she takes her first breath, filling a home with warmth and light. To her mother, Elisha, she was a miracle. To her father, Teshawn Conley, she was joy made visible. To her family, she was a gift they believed they would protect forever.

She entered the world with a smile soft enough to quiet a room, cheeks full, eyelashes long, eyes bright enough to stop strangers in their tracks. She was not just Zaniyla — she was Baby Z, ZZ, Granny Girl. Each nickname a love letter, proof of how deeply she was cherished.

A Milestone Never Meant to Be

On August 5, she turned one. A day meant for cake, giggles, unsteady steps, and clapping hands. But Zaniyla was too fragile, too weak, too hurt to celebrate. Instead of balloons and laughter, her first birthday was spent surrounded by hospital machines and a mother’s fear.

On the morning of August 1, Elisha followed her usual routine. She buttoned Zaniyla’s onesie, brushed her curls, kissed her cheeks, and whispered, “Mommy loves you.” She believed she was leaving her daughter in a safe place, with someone she trusted. Danger seemed impossible.

But danger often hides in plain sight. It wears trust like a mask, slipping silently into moments when a parent believes everything is safe.

The Call That Changed Everything

Hours later, while at work, Elisha received a call. Zaniyla was “acting out of character.” On her back, making long spit bubbles, distant, unresponsive. A mother’s instinct — sharp, primal, undeniable — made her collapse in fear. She ran, not thinking, not hesitating.

When she arrived, her daughter lay still. Pale. Limp. Eyes unfocused. The baby who had filled her life with joy was unresponsive. A scream tore from her chest, carved from terror and heartbreak. Paramedics rushed Zaniyla to Samaritan Hospital, and then to Albany Medical Center, where specialists fought to save her.

But some injuries are too deep to heal.

A Family’s Heartbreak

For days, Zaniyla lay surrounded by tubes, wires, and a family praying for a miracle. Her mother never left her side, holding her tiny hand, whispering, bargaining with the universe. Her father cried silently, grieving in anticipation.

On August 6, just a day after her first birthday, baby Zaniyla passed away. Her fragile body could fight no longer. Autopsy results revealed severe, deliberate trauma: bleeding inside her skull, lack of oxygen to the brain. A trauma no accident could explain. Her death was ruled a homicide.

The investigation confirmed the injuries occurred on August 1, but where, when, and by whom remained unknown. Answers were buried in missing minutes, absent honesty, and silence.

The Search for Justice

Days turned into weeks. Detectives followed leads, questioned witnesses, and pressed for answers. Crime Stoppers announced a reward of $2,500 for information. To the public, a standard gesture. To Elisha, it felt like an insult. “Cash reward?? Do ya job,” she wrote, grief raw and justified. No sum of money could undo what happened.

Zaniyla’s obituary painted her life as it was — brief, but filled with love. She enjoyed tiny joys: music, watching shows with her father, splashing in the pool. Every small miracle of her short life now weighed heavily against the cruelty that took her away.

Living With Grief

Her parents’ grief was all-consuming. Teshawn admitted, “That eats me every minute. Every second.” Parents often blame themselves, even when they are not at fault. But grief also forged a vow: “I could at least get justice. And I’m not going to stop until I do.” His promise, heavier than heartbreak, became a mission.

Police from Watervliet, Troy, and New York State Police Troop G BCI continue investigating. Leads are followed, witnesses questioned, tips encouraged. Somewhere, someone knows the truth. Somewhere, someone holds the key to justice.

A Life Remembered

Zaniyla’s life, though short, left a profound impact. Children like her do not vanish; they remain in memories, photographs, and the spaces love refuses to let go. Her smile echoes in the hearts of those who held her.

Her story is not only about how she died, but how she lived — cherished, adored, and fiercely loved. It is the story of a family shattered yet unbroken, a community unwilling to forget, and a relentless pursuit of justice.

Every day, her parents carry her love forward, fighting for truth, accountability, and recognition of the life stolen from them. Baby Zaniyla’s first year was brief, but the love surrounding her continues to guide her family in their battle for justice — a battle they will not abandon.