Sunday, 1 November 2009

Childhood Memory

The most vivid childhood memory was when I was selected for a trial with Middlesex County Cricket Club.

Up to that stage cricket had been my life. That's all I ever wanted to be, a professional cricketer. I would often dream of striding elegantly across the perfectly cut lawn of Lord's Cricket Ground, in my creased ironed whites, bat in hand, ready to do battle with the fastest bowlers in the world. I never wore a helmet in my fantasy as those were only for cissies. The only armoury I needed was the piece of oak in my hands.

I would produce the most fantastic and flamboyant of shots to all parts of the ground. Whatever they bowled to me, whether bouncers, inswingers, outswingers, full tosses or even yorkers, each ball which hurtled in my direction would be dispatched off my bat at twice the speed to the boundary. I was treating the most gifted of bowlers with utter disdain and contempt. My dream would eventually come to a close when my score was on 94 and with the last ball before lunch I would conjure up the most outrageous of shots, a straight six out of the stadium, to reach my century. I would walk off the pitch to a standing ovation, with my bat held aloft. My walk would be slow and deliberate in order to bathe in the applause from the adoring public. It was if I had come back from a victorious battle and my cricket bat was a samueri sword with which I had conquered the enemy. Somewhat melodramatic but I was only twelve at the time and I thought all things were possible.

The night before the trial I couldn't sleep. I was full of nervous energy. I wanted to be the best cricketer there but doubts kept creeping in my mind that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as good as I thought I was. However, I quickly dismissed these unpleasant notions.

The following morning I travelled the short bus distance to the ground. I was in confident and ebullient mood. I felt I was meeting my pre-ordained destiny. I imagined folk songs would be written about me extolling my virtues on the cricket field. I envisaged portraits of myself hanging in the National Gallery, long after I was dead. Blue plaques would be liberally dotted around the country by English Heritage to indicate where I was born, where I died, what restaurants I frequented and even what public loos I used. The plaque would simply be inscribed `The great man was here'. And everybody would instantly know who it was: Noel Winston Neville Gladstone Disraeli Reggae Graffie. It sounds absurd today but again I can only put it down to my youth.

It very soon dawned on me that the cream of the country's young cricketers was here sharing the same ambitions and dreams as myself. I felt I was an excellent player but compared to my contemporaries at the trial I was a Scunthorpe to their Man United. I was out of my league. A sickening feeling came over me which began in the pit of my stomach as if someone had kicked me in the testicals and they had permanently lodged in my throat. It was that defining moment that I brutally realised that my world had fallen around me and that however hard I tried I would never become a top-flight professional cricketer.

For several weeks I was inconsolable. My parents tried in vain to cheer me up, insisting that this was not the end, I could try other clubs. But I knew in my heart that the same result would occur. I had to face the fact that I was simply not good enough.

Since that inauspicious day in my life, over 25 years ago, I have never actually picked up a cricket bat in anger. I reckoned that if I could not play at the very top I would not want to participate at all. I occasionally watch the odd test match on television and I still sometimes dream that I am batting for England and scoring a century at Lord's. But now I know it is only a dream, never to be fulfilled, a mere childhood memory.

FLOAT LIKE A BUTTERFLY - AN EXHIBITION COMMEMORATING MUHAMMAD ALI'S FIGHT WITH GEORGE FORMAN

As a long admirer of Muhammad Ali I had mixed feelings about this exhibition. I wondered whether it would do justice to one of my heroes.

My fears were unfounded. The exhibt is a series of powerful and intimate photographic portraits of a man regarded as the greatest athlete of any era.

The photographs on display were taken by David King when he was the art editor for the Sunday Times. King's 25 black and white pictures document Ali as he prepares for his showdown with George Forman for the world heavy weight boxing title.

The contest took place in Kinshasa, Zaire, in October 1974. It was hailed as the `Rumble in the Jungle'.

The first portrait you view as you enter the tiny gallery, is one revealing Ali's broad and muscled back being rubbed by a gnarled old hand. The raven colored hand is caught on film by the photographer with a slight blur movement on the boxer's brown skin. This contrasts vividly with the pitch-black background.

Another picture shows Ali in the boxing ring displaying his magnificent physique and presence. He shadow boxes, while spectators look on in awe and admiration. He dances around the ring in the same way as Rudolf Nureyev would dance on stage; with beauty, finesse and elegance.

A huge photograph sees Ali in boxing headgear staring straight at the camera and almost in a sense beyond it. The picture seems to elicit the message that somehow Ali was on a mission and no one would deprive him of his eventual goal, least of all his boxing rival George Forman. The picture had almost a mythical and spiritual quality to it.

As you walk down the stairs of the gallery there is a stunning picture on the landing. It is Ali pounding on a punch bag. It shows in sharp and brillant detail the copious amounts of sweat coursing out of what seems to be every pore of the boxer's gargantuan body.

In one portrait King puts half of Ali's face in silhouette, which enchances the remaining half of Ali's beautiful facial features. The years of boxing and Parkinson Disease at that stage, had not yet dealt a cruel blow to him.

The highlight of the exhibition is a series of marvellous head portraits, each displaying contrasting facial expressions of the boxer. Ranging from intensity to serenity.

These portraits which concludes the exhibition, aptly sum up Ali as a multi-faceted and complex person. There is no doubt that his persona transcended boxing.

Ali was a role model, icon, protester, leader and sportsman all rolled into one. David King has done a magnificent job in encapsulating this in his exhibition.

"Float Like A Butterfly" is at Proud Galleries in the Strand, London. The cost of entrance is free but donations are welcomed.

Sunday, 2 August 2009

One Mans Escape from Repression

John Moyana a Zimbabwean refugee was forced to leave his country simply because of his involvement with the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). A political party in opposition to President Mugabe's ruling Zanu-PF party. The 39-year-old tells his harrowing story of how he was tortured, imprisoned and threatened with death, before escaping to Britain.

“It was in late September of 2007 when I joined the MDC. I attended one rally and occasionally handed out leaflets at church meetings. I was not a high profile figure within the party.

“About three weeks after joining, my wife and I were in bed one night when we heard the sound of people knocking on our door. We thought they were thieves. But we realised who they were when they broke into our house. They were wearing the colours of the ruling Zanu-PF party. The seven men were armed with guns, machetes and batons.

“They dragged both of us from our bed and started kicking and punching us in front of our nine-year-old son. Our neighbours could hear our screams but none of them came to our aid.

“My wife was beaten so severely around the head with a butt of a gun that she lost consciousness. She was dragged into the bathroom and had water sprayed over her to revive her.

“The gang interrogated me about the MDC party. They wanted me to give them names and addresses of activists. During the interrogation I was beaten so hard around the face that I could hardly see.

“The men accused me of spreading anti-government propaganda and being opposed to the current regime. They said that if I did not co-operate they would rape and mutilate my wife before killing me.

“I pleaded to them that I knew nothing of MDC activities and that all I did for the party was to distribute leaflets. They continued to beat us till the early hours of the morning. Before they left, they burnt all our clothes and ransacked our house.

“Although I sustained many injuries, it was the humiliation that was more terrible. To be unable to protect my wife, and to have my son, who was screaming and crying throughout the ordeal, see his father forced to crawl like a baby and be urinated on by Mugabe's thugs was shameful for me. But I could do nothing.

“My wife and I spent several days in the hospital recovering from our injuries. We decided to send our son to my parent’s house for his safety.

“But when I reported the incident to the local police they arrested and detained me for 38 days. During my detention I was again tortured. I would be regularly hung upside down by my feet and beaten with a pipe. At times during my captivity, I was forced to crawl into a blood stained metal coffin that was used to transport the dead to the mortuary. That was horrific.

“On my release, I was threatened by the police that what happened to me was just a warning, and if I still remained a member of the MDC they would kill me.

“It was too dangerous for me to stay in Zimbabwe any longer. I decided to escape to Johannesburg, South Africa. Unfortunately, my wife was too unwell to risk the trip as she was still receiving treatment for her injuries. She went into hiding with our son and my parents.

“When I arrived in Johannesburg, through a friend, I contacted a group of Nigerians, who were able to arrange a false passport for me and an airline ticket to the UK. The passport and the ticket cost me most of what I had.

“I was instructed that before landing in Britain to get rid of my passport and any other documents. The passport was only used to enable me to board the plane.


“When the plane landed I went to the immigration office and told them that I had lost my passport and that I was seeking asylum from Zimbabwe. I realise that I had entered Britain illegally, but I felt I had no choice, as I believed that my life was in danger if I had stayed.

“I was sent to a detention centre for two weeks. From there I was transferred to a hotel for asylum seekers in Hounslow, west London, while my asylum status was being processed.

“My asylum claim had been initially refused, but on appeal I was granted refugee status in May 2009.

“I have been very fortunate, particularly now that my wife has been able to join me from Zimbabwe. She took the same route as I did to come to Britain in November last year. She has applied for asylum status and now is waiting for her application to be hopefully approved.

“If my wife is granted asylum we would want to bring our son to England, so we can all be together as a family again.

“I would love one day to return to Zimbabwe. It is very difficult to leave your country, where you are born, where your parents still live. But it is Mugabe's regime that has made me leave the country that I love just because I belonged to an opposition party. I pray that the monsters leading the regime will be brought to account soon.

“Since arriving in Britain I have met many exiles who have told me about there own mistreatment at the hands of the Zimbabwean authorities. They also talk about their family and close friends being raped, tortured and murdered by the army, police and gangs of thugs associated with the Zanu-PF party.

“Hearing these stories, I feel very lucky that I was able to flee. Unfortunately, many cannot in my country.”

The End

**
To interview John I got in contact initially with the Refugee Council. They put me onto the Refugee Arrivals Project (RAP). This is a voluntary organisation, which provides humanitarian assistance to newly arrived asylum seekers. RAP gave me permission to interview John.

Sunday, 12 July 2009

George Galloway - Maverick Politician - Interview March 2003

George Galloway leans back in his comfortable contemporary reclining chair, toys with a button on his expensive outfit and gazes contentedly through the glass windows of his luxurious third floor Parliamentary office, as he prepares to be interviewed. This debonair politician, with the looks of an ageing moustachioed matinee idol, is in surprisingly ebullient mood considering that he is under investigation by the Labour hierarchy for his comments about Messrs Blair and Bush being "wolves" for attacking Iraq, whilst at the same time he is fending off accusations from a national newspaper that he is in the pay of the Iraqi regime.

The controversial views espoused by the MP for Glasgow Kelvin have made him not so much a thorn, as an unexploded cluster bomb in the side of the Parliamentary Labour Party ever since he became an MP 16 years ago. He makes no apologies for the views he gave on Abu Dhabi television regarding the Prime Minister and the American President. "The only regret is the insult implied to the noble wolf," he said, "which is an animal which does not deserve such a comparison."

Although small in stature Galloway exudes passion and fervour. With a greying moustache, which slightly protrudes over his thin lip and receding bouffant, he is a cross between Charlie Chaplin and Arthur Scargill with oodles of charisma thrown in.

His zeal for oratory is evident when he vents his anger against the Daily Telegraph's allegations that he received millions of dollars from the Iraqi regime. He lambasted these charges as "a pile of black propaganda” and "intelligence hocus-pocus based" on forgeries. "I am suing the Daily Telegraph and others for the publication of allegations that I received $15 million from the Iraqi regime by Saddam Hussein and his two sons," he said as his cheeks reddened, visible even under a deep suntan – the result of a recent stay in his Algarve villa.

"This campaign will be fought through the legal system to the end. I hope and believe that those responsible for the publishing of these lies of fantastic proportion will be severely punished." In the middle of his Churchillian defiance he unexpectedly pulls out from the breast pocket of his Saville Row battle dress brown rosary beads - a symbol of his strong catholic heritage - where he proceeds to adroitly shift the beads from one expensively manicured hand to the next as he holds forth on the evils of the press.

Galloway was born on August 16 1954 to a family of socialists of Irish descent, in a working-class neighbourhood of Dundee. Galloway fondly reminisces about his formative years which sounds like a tale of working class penury. “I lived my first three years in an attic in a slum tenement in the Irish quarter of Dundee which was known as Tipperary." He pointed earnestly to a notice board behind him. Pinned on it was a black and white grainy picture of him as an infant in a loft (thankfully without his trademark bristles).

His father, who was a member of the Labour Party and a Trade Union official, was a significant political influence on him, along with his grandfather who was an active communist. "It never occurred to me," he said, "that I would do anything other than have a political life."

This may explain his determination to rise quickly within the Scottish Labour movement. He joined the Young Socialists as a 13-year-old and became the youngest chairperson of the Scottish Labour Party at 26 and where he proceeded to be one of the youngest Scottish MPs at 32, beating the late Roy Jenkins of the SDP for the Glasgow Hillhead seat.

Reflecting on his early success, he said: "I am certainly driven and determined but I am not at all politically ambitious," he said. “If I was I would have definitely taken a different path and if I had done so I had would have been way up the greasy pole." Taking a phrase used in boxing parlance - a sport that Galloway follows religiously - he says: "I could of been a contender, but I refuse to compromise unlike the people who used to sit at Tony Benn's feet who now sit at the feet of the Prime Minister with exactly the same stars in their eyes."

A man who confesses to be a Marxist and mourns the collapse of communism is at odds with the media portrayal of him as a dandy who covets Italian suits, enjoys fast cars and puffs on expensive Cuban cigars. This has earned him the sobriquets of "Gorgeous George" and the "Bollinger Bolshevik". The former was chiefly attained after admitting to having a fling with at least two women at a conference in Greece.

A look of genuine exasperation spreads across his face. "This accusation is not so much unfair as quite ludicrous." He begins to run through the list of items he possesses. "I have a third hand motor that I brought for £17,000 which has done 100,000 miles which some have describe as some stretch limousine. I have never owned a pair of Gucci shoes or a Versaci suit and I never owned any of the paraphernalia of wealth I have read about in the gutter press." As to the ‘Gorgeous George’ tag,” he says with a smug, “it could have been worse, I could have been called ‘Ugly George’.”

Financial indiscretions have also attached themselves to the career of the maverick MP. They include accusations of lavish expenses while working for the charity War on Want plus misusing the funds from the Mariam Hamza Appeal, a charity founded by Galloway in 1998 to raise funds to treat a sick Iraqi girl. Galloway regards these rumours about his personal finances as poison spread by his critics. “My enemies need to have weapons with which to attack me and accusing me of financial irregularities in the projects I head is an obvious one,” he says.

Galloway’s passion for the Middle East began in 1974 with a chance encounter with a young Palestinian. At a time the young Scot was the organiser of the Dundee Labour party. The Palestinian student came to his office and spoke eloquently about the plight of his people. Galloway was immediately hooked. He soon visited a Palestinian refugee camp and twinned Dundee with the West Bank town of Nablus, flying the Palestinian flag over Dundee town hall.

In the 1990s he became less involved in the Palestinian cause and switched his attention to Iraq, becoming a fierce opponent against Iraqi sanctions. In 1994 he was vilified after gushingly praising Saddam Hussein for his 'indefatigability'. He concedes now that he could have handled the situation better. "I was not praising Saddam Hussein I was praising the Iraqi people," he said, taking a defensive posture on his recliner. "I wish I was bloody struck down with laryngitis that day," he confesses.

The MP for 'Baghdad Central', as he is jokingly referred to by his Westminster colleagues, denies he is an apologist for the Iraqi regime. Taking a deliberate swipe at the Prime Minister he says: "As long ago as the 1970s I was a founder member of the campaign against repression and for democratic rights for Iraq when Tony Blair was strutting the boards with his rock group 'Ugly Rumours' at Oxford University. I was the one demonstrating outside the Iraqi embassy in London for human rights, while inside British Ministers was selling guns and gas."

Under threat of expulsion and de-selection as an MP, Galloway still retains a steely determination. “It is my intention to seek the nomination for the new Glasgow Central seat, when my seat disappears,” he said. “It is my very firm belief that if the members of the Labour Party of Glasgow Central are allowed to freely choose their candidate they will select me and that is the Labour leadership's nightmare.”

Unquestionably, Galloway is a throwback to old Labour, a dinosaur of the hard-left. He maybe as unpopular in New Labour as the British entry in the Eurovision Song contest but even his sternest critics would not be so premature to write his political epitaph. Says Galloway "I have always taken my cue in the way I approach my life from the French Revolutionary, Georges Danton, whose motto was 'audacity, again audacity, always audacity'.”


The End

Tuesday, 7 July 2009

Pride and Prejudice

It's a warm summer's evening on the common. The time is nearing 10.00pm. The park and the surrounding area is quiet and serene; apart from a small patch - situated close to a disused public lavatory - where young to middle-age gay men furtively eye each other. Using hand signals and appropriate body language, each recognises want the other desires - physical intimacy or voyeuristic pleasure. Few words are ever spoken.

Many of the men cruising this unassuming spot on Clapham Common, south London, come from a society and culture which regards homosexuality as a “disease” of white middle class men; the Afro-Caribbean community.

A regular visitor to the weekly nocturnal gathering in the park is Andy. Intelligent, handsome, black and queer, Andy knows first-hand the prejudices towards gays that are still prevalent within the black community.

Andy said: "My parents would never understand or accept me if I told them that I was gay. My father is a traditional church-going Jamaican, and I know he would never speak to me again if I told him about my sexuality."


Andy, 36, confessed that in his early twenties he thought seriously of committing suicide because of the fear of coming out to his family. "Being gay was a major part in why I nearly took my life. Looking back now it was silly. But at the time there was no one I could confide in or trust," he says.

"The mentality of a Afro-Caribbean family is so narrow-minded," says Andy. "If you are gay, you do not want them to find out. But you can't hide it forever as the most insignificant thing can give you away."

Andy did say that he had told his sister. "She was very understanding and supportive, but she advised me not to tell anyone else in the family," he said.

Unfortunately, the attitude experienced by Andy is not unusual according to the Terrence Higgins Trust, the UK's leading HIV and Aids charity. Late last year they launched a campaign to tackle homophobia within black communities.

Simon Nelson, a development officer who headed the trust’s campaign said: "Homophobia in the wider black community is very common. There is a strong belief that black people can't be gay, but there are as many black men and women who have relationships with people of the same sex as there are in any other race or community."


Nelson highlighted that black gay people frequently feel isolated and unable to talk about their sexuality, and are forced by their fears about acceptance to adopt an outwardly straight lifestyle.

"Most of the men I try and reach are married or have girlfriends. Because of homophobia among black families, these guys would never openly identify with being gay," Nelson said.

Nelson, who is black and gay himself, believes that these men face explicit or more subtle homophobia in all parts of their communities, particular in black churches. He states that the older generations of Caribbeans would take a Victorian attitude towards sexuality, passed down through the inherited social conservatism of the Caribbean.

"The most worrying aspect, is that over a last few years a lot of homophobia in Britain is coming from young black men", says Nelson. "There is black music with homophobic lyrics. And because it isn't challenged they think it gives them the right to be homophobic."

The leading gay rights campaigner, Peter Tatchell has also been concerned about homophobic lyrics in black music. Some of the lyrics have advocated shooting and burning of gay people. He regards this as double standards. Tatchell said: "Imagine the outcry if gay singer Elton John release a record urging the lynching of black people. But when black artists call for the extermination of gays, they get away with it."

He argues that the lyrics may not create homophobic prejudice and violence, but they validate and inflame it. "It gives a green light to bigotry. It makes disordered, maladjusted young straight men feel OK about physically venting their rage against lesbian and gay people," says Tatchell.

He feels that there is a lack of well-known gay black men to come out for fear of being ostracised. This he says, combined with the failure of black leaders to speak out on the subject has given free rein to anti-gay bigotry in many sections of the black community.

Tatchell said: “There are no openly gay black superstars. Not even one world famous black athlete, politician or entertainer is out. That shows the crushing strength of black homophobia."

Darcus Howe, the well renowned media commentator and writer on black issues, is not surprised by the omission of black leaders to speak out against homophobia. Howe points out that black leaders have their hands full fighting racism, without having the added burden of tackling homophobia as well. “They have to battle for black people and gays have to battle for gay people," he said.

The whole premise that homophobia is rampant in the black community is contested by Ted Brown, the chairman of the Black Lesbians and Gays Against Media Homophobia.

"There maybe homophobia among certain sections of the community, although it is not necessarily broad based," he said.

Brown believes that homophobia is no worse than in any other community. He said: “I am sure if you went to predominately white communities up and down the country, the same level of homophobia would exist."

Brown felt that there was a more sinister explanation in why black people have been viewed as reactionaries when it comes to homosexuality. “This label of homophobia is an excuse for organisations not to deal with black communities and thus marginalizing an already disadvantaged community," he says.

A similar view was echoed by Alison Harris, a spokesperson from Stonewall, a pressure group which campaigns for improved rights for lesbian and gay people.

She said: "The whole issue of homophobia within ethnic communities has been exaggerated. There has been no research undertaken to indicate the levels of homophobia within those communities. All the information people receive is anecdotal.

"But if you examine for instance the significant problem of homophobic bullying within secondary schools, it's a problem in schools across the board and in every region of the country and not only in areas of high ethnic density."

Despite this there is one institution which plays a significant role in forming and cementing conservative black opinion; the black church.

The growing influence of black churches can be gaged by the congregations, which have grown continually for the last 30 years. Over half of churchgoers in London are black.

The church's attitude towards homosexuality is uncompromising. They believe it is against the scriptures. Mark Sturge, the general director of the Afro-Caribbean Evangelical Alliance, defended the church's position, he said: “We are not against gay people per se and it is not about colour or ethnicity. Our attitude towards homosexuality is based on biblical perspective."

Sturge denied that there was any virulent homophobia emanating from black pulpits. "Because the black church speaks out against homosexuality does not mean that the church should be harangued as being backward, fundamentalist and unloving. We are not opposed to gay men and women but to their practices," he said.

Their parishioners greet the views espoused by black churches with enthusiasm. But according to Cheik Traore, a health promotion officer, the church's stance has been one of the factors in hindering the progress of HIV and Aids work within the black community.

Traore says that the long-term impact of persistent homophobia has been to stifle sexual health promotion and outreach work within the community, as black men remain afraid to come out.

"If we are going to deal with HIV and Aids then we have to talk realistically about the routes of transmission. In 2004, for example, 71 per cent of people with new HIV infections in Britain were black. The sad thing is no one in the community is talking about it. It's as if black people are in total denial," Traore said.

Andy would concur with the notion that there is a culture of denial gripping Black Britain when it comes to homosexuality. But he is optimistic about the future.

"I believe sooner rather than later, with so many openly gay black men and women that black preachers, politicians, celebrities and others concerned with the general health and well-being of our community will be forced to finally confront this taboo subject," Andy said.

Of his own future in deciding whether to come out to his family, he was more cautious. He said: “I can see a time when I will be out with them, but I don't think it will be an active process, like me going to them and telling them that I'm gay. They will probably hear it or find out in some way if they haven't already. I don't think I will ever feel ready to tell them."

Sunday, 28 June 2009

The Broken Community

I love London. I love its vibrancy. For me I would not want to reside anywhere else in the world. Quoting Samuel Johnson: "When a man is tired of London is tired of life". However, one thing that has made me weary of living in this great metropolis in the last few years, is the level of violence committed by and to teenagers. The most recent and horrific example was the brutal slaying of 16 year old Ben Kinsella. His assailants were only a fracture older than he was.

It has reached a stage where these atrocities have become so frequent in the capital that it hardly makes the local press let alone the national newspapers. You don’t have to be a contestant on Mastermind to know that the one incontrovertible factor that these killings have in common is that the perpetrator and the victim are nearly always black. The notable exception is that of Ben Kinsella.

It is become clear to me that the cause of this escalating problem in London is due to the devastating social consequences of illegitimacy within the Afro-Caribbean community. The last official census figures revealed that lone parents form the majority of Afro-Caribbean families. The family structure is increasingly disappearing – where crack, crime, murder and social anarchy are evaporating once stable black communities.

Black commentators would argue that problems facing the black community can be laid at the door of Institutionalised racism as outlined in the Macpherson’s Inquiry into the Death of Stephen Lawrence. There is no doubt that there is a good deal of residual discrimination in society and in the police, but not enough to explain the over representation of black people in prisons, crime figures, and school exclusions. Racism in itself is not the sole explanation.

The absence of fathers as role models for young black males is critically important in the genesis of delinquency. We know that some single mothers succeed better than some couples at raising well-adjusted children but the downward spiral of deprivation among lone-parent families is far more pronounced than among comparably poor two-parent ones. The stronger the family unit, the better the economic and social progress, as witness with British Chinese and Asian families.

Today, Black people found themselves at the precipice, as a result of the unwillingness among its ranks to tackle this single most important issue facing the community – it is more critical than crime, drugs, poverty, welfare or homelessness because the disintegration of the Afro-Caribbean family structure lies behind and drives them all.

As a Londoner we need a debate on this issue if we are to avoid repeated scenes of inconsolable parents appearing on our TV screens mourning their loss of their sons and daughters in such a violent and appalling manner.

Wednesday, 24 June 2009

New kid on the bloc

Welcome to all readers who want to read something different, controversial and stimulating COMING SOON - WATCH THIS SPACE.