On Saturday night in Brixton, you tried to steal my son’s phone as he had his hands full of food bought for his friend after a night out dancing at the Electric Brixton. He was happy and relaxed, full of the music and loving being out in vibrant London. You smashed his gentle face, broke his lovely nose and blacked his thoughtful eyes.
He has little memory of the event – he can’t even remember how many of you there were or whether you were white, black, Asian or anything else, but he has worked out that it must have happened fast. The bruises look to have been delivered from all sides, and I suspect that you kicked him in the face.
I can barely write those words: in my head I can see and hear it happening; the sound of the impact, the crowding in close, the clear intent to harm in whatever way possible.
What I cannot do is understand why, but I am trying very hard. It feels important to do so. One of the first things my boy said to me was, “Why would someone want to hurt me? They must have been very angry.”
Were you angry? Was it simply businesslike – a job to do? Or is mugging people something you find exciting, a challenging way to make a living?
There were a lot of people around and the police were there swiftly so it is likely that the incident will have been captured on CCTV. I wonder if I will be able to watch the images. My son could have died.
Luckily, he will be OK but may need surgery on his nose. He is quite shaken and will have to take time off work to recover. He works at Great Ormond Street children’s hospital with seriously ill children in the intensive care units, helping to make their lives better. He works in a team with their families as well.
When he is back at work, as he will be soon, if you bring in your little brothers, young cousins, baby nieces or your own small children he will care for them with all the tender, loving, dedicated care in the world. Of course he will, even if he knows that they are yours, because he is like that.
You could do that job if you wanted to. It takes some time to train and you would need to work hard but it wouldn’t be impossible. Surely it would be better than the path you have chosen to follow. My son’s whole family are so proud of him. Are yours? They could be if you chose.
I do hope that no child’s surgery will be cancelled tomorrow because of what you did. Every day that this kind of surgery is delayed it makes the outcome for the child so much less likely to be positive. My boy and all the other workers in the NHS need our support. The ambulance drivers who pick up people who have been punched and kicked to the ground, and the nurses and doctors who patch people up in A&E, like the ones who helped my son last night, all play their part and would do the same for you if ever you needed them to. Unless of course they are unable to work because they have been beaten to the ground by strangers, for no other crime than owning a mobile phone.
Anonymous
