I didn’t sleep much last night. Or the night before. Or the night before that. My city is burning. There is a tangible fear in the air. I’m not above it because I feel it and I see it.
I don’t want to listen to politicians being parachuted in (when they finally arrive back in the country) to talk about mindless violence and talking to ‘community leaders’. ‘Community leaders’ who are self-appointed and seem to want to polarise and divide rather than come together and heal.
Don’t speak to community leaders, come and speak to me. Come and speak to people like me who just want to find ways for sense and our voice to be heard. I’m just as much a part of this community as ‘church leaders’. Why are they credited with greater access to the ‘influential’.
I want people who live here and love this city to find ways to heal her and pull her together. I don’t want the same ‘community leaders’ speaking to the same ‘politicians’ trying to build up their own special interests and agendas.
I want to shout and scream and rage at all those who seem hell-bent on destruction but this is a symptom not a cause.
This is and never was about race. This is about age and belonging. How can you care for a society when society cares nothing for you?
This is a disaffected youth who are devoid of a moral compass because our society values goods and monetary worth over basic humanity. This is what has been learnt. The ‘establishment’ doesn’t work for you but against you. You take what you can.
Perhaps though, these awful scenes and desperate situations will provide an opportunity to build a better society for everyone and to reach out to disaffected youth and marginalised people.
Maybe, this will be the way to build a real, true community and to build a better London.
I love this city. I was born here. It’s my home. It has its rough and smooth. But it is a good place and it is filled with good people. There are enough of us here to force a triumph for the good.