Occupy London

I visited the St Paul's Occupy London site this week. Expecting the deluge of crazed hippies and down and outers that it seems the Media likes to focus on. The rage and the anger, the mess and the inconvenience to St Pauls.

What did I find? A Welfare Tent, where healers and counsellors are donating their time to those being drawn to the site from the area, an Info tent with a library and workshops and events happening in a separate space. The same Hare Krishna's I had met at the anti war protests last month, giving out free, hot food. A trio of masked people giving out " Free Hugs". In front of St Paul's there were people drumming, giving speeches, camera crews and then Jon Snow popped by and through. The walls of surrounding buildings were starting to get covered in posters, pictures, writings on Freedom, Democracy, yearnings for an end to the Wars, Equality, poetry and statements of support. There were portaloos on site, tents of all shapes and sizes and people milling about smiling and nodding hello to each other. The Police stood on the sidelines and watched. I did not feel intimidated, overwhelmed or confused. I felt this was a community rising up in the middle of London. It was made up a real mix of people from all walks of life. It also consisted of those in need of help, the homeless, the addicted and one organisor told me they had to call in the Police for the odd bit of unrest. For the camp was a place of Peace.

What exactly are these people protesting about? Well I would not say it was a Protest. It seemed more to be a cry to take to the streets and reclaim the Land and in that Power. It was a call from the people of London that they had had enough of not being listened to. As if to say: we have taken to the streets and marched, we have made some noise, we have gathered in our millions and made our presence felt and said No to illegal wars, no to the abuse by banks, of the erosion of our human rights and still the machinery of the Government moves forward. Still there is inequality,still there is a want for a better life. So if no one will listen then we shall have no choice but to reclaim this Land. And that is what has happened. A small patch of Land has been reclaimed by those of the Land.

And so now what? How long will this impasse last and what is the solution forward?  What does this show us? Across the world there have been uprisings and protests. Some have been violent, many have been led with Peace and a sense of Dignity in the face of State Aggression. How long will governments continue to ignore those very people they are in "power" to serve, the very people they court when election times arrive, who they ply with promises that wither in the stark reality of Governance? This cannot be an indefinite reality. Some say that the Occupy Movement has had its' time. That is debatable. The organisation is growing, more people are being drawn to make a stand in this way, more Land has been reclaimed. Groups are springing up on camp to support those in need, those with addictions, those who feel alienated from society to find a way to empower themselves. This is professionals giving up their time. This is Community growing in our midst and joining not through a love of x factor but through a desire for Change. I'm sure a fair few people find this unsettling. I find it inspiring. For if it does nothing else than spark debate, if one person goes down there and has their photo taken next to a tent, then goes home and ponders the question of Why this is happening, the seeds of Change have been sown. The daily presence of the camps are a constant reminder to those in the City that there is something at the heart of London that needs to be addressed and it shall not go away, it shall not be silenced and it shall not give up. Sit up and take note- this Movement has only just woken up.

Democracy v Hypocrisy

Saturday’s anti war rally was a mixture of peaceful protest and police antagonism. There were banners for Peace, Hare Krishna’s singing and giving away free food and passionate speeches from Julian Assange, George Galloway and Jeremy Corbyn amongst others.
After the speeches the rally moved to 10 Downing Street for a peaceful protest outside. As we started to move off, the STWC stewards formed a line at the front of the procession to lead the march. I have volunteered for this in the past and have felt how charged the energies are. It was a real mix of ages, colours and sexes on this protest and I was struck by how many young people had turned out to make their voice heard. As the procession started to move the police formed a line behind and were telling people to move out of the way.  As our camerawoman and myself tried to move a Police Medic- yes that’s right Police Medic- remember that- shoved me forcefully. As I was walking, as I was moving, with no eye contact, no obvious judgement of the situation, just a rough shove so that I nearly fell onto the person in front of me who was also trying to move.  Are these the new tactics we are expected to get used to?
What I was sensing already and this was different from other peaceful protests I had been on was the level of Police hostility. I could not see anyone with anything that would make them seem armed, I did not see any cans of lager, did not smell any dope and there was no hint of aggression in the crowds. I was certainly not giving off that air and yet here they were treating us all as if we were unruly animals that needed to be herded.
This behaviour only amplified when we reached 10 Downing Street. As the crowds gathered round and shouted slogans of illegal war and no to war, the police started rushing in and climbing onto walls and bollards outside No 10 with long lenses cameras and photographing everyone in the crowd. Others were taking down notes of people, what they were wearing.
None of these people were violent; none of them were threatening to be violent. I was filming in the middle of the crowd and I did not feel unsafe or like something would kick off. So why were the Police using such heavy handed techniques. If I see a police officer taking my photo when all I am doing is exercising my right to Free Speech that instantly makes me feel attacked in some way. Like my rights are being trampled on.
Pretty soon the usual tactics were being employed. One by one the yellow jackets started to close in. Like a scene from The Birds, you turn around and you are suddenly surrounded by police. So within a few minutes the whole length of the road from Trafalgar Square to beyond Downing Street was lined with Police officers.
The protests and chanting continued and across the road others had gathered. We crossed the road and witnessed a passionate group of Middle Eastern men waving flags and chanting: Free Free Egypt, Free Free Syria, Free Free The Middle East. They were shouting from their hearts, they were shouting with a yearning for Freedom. It was mesmerising to watch.
After a time as the crowds dispersed a bit we decided to cross back over to 10 Downing Street. As I went to put my foot on the road a large police officer told me I was not allowed to cross the road. Why I asked. Because I say so he said. Why can’t I cross the road I asked, I want to go to that side of the road. I say so and he started to stand in front of me. No one is allowed to cross this road you have to stay here. Just at that moment a group of people crossed over the road- what like them I said, they just did. He said nothing. Are you telling me I am not allowed to cross the road I asked him. He sighed and rolled his eyes and had nothing to say. Why I asked again can those people cross the road and I can’t. He said nothing. I moved away, either he just didn’t like the way I looked- I was wearing a long padded coat and carrying a large rucksack with our filming kit in it. Maybe it was that! I walked away still none the wiser as to why I had just been stopped.
Further down a man was being dragged from the pavement into a police van packed with about 5-6 police men. He had crossed his arms and straightened his legs. 2-3 officers were dragging him into the van. People gathered round. Why is he being arrested? Where is he being taken? Some people knew him and told him to be strong. I asked one of the passersby what had happened. He was going to cross the road and they told him he could not step onto the pavement on this side of the road. When he asked why they said they would arrest him. So he sat down and refused to move and they arrested him. Well did I just escape arrest then for the same thing? This was ridiculous. The police were stopping ordinary citizens from crossing the road at the traffic lights at will. With no justification.  What was going on, when had these types of powers been given to the police and why was the public never informed of this?
I finally made it back to the Holy Grail- outside 10 Downing Street- to find a small crowd gathered around a young woman who was sat on a pavement. Somewhere near her a man was speaking into a camera about what had just happened. I asked him to explain, he said the woman was  a 17 year old girl; she had been hit over the head with a police baton. Why I asked. Because she was asked to cross the road and as she was doing this the police man hit her. The same Police Medic who had pushed me so roughly was now standing near her. What was going on here? Why were people being manhandled, beaten over the head, arrested, pushed at a peaceful protest? There was no violence; there was no sense of danger of violence from the crowd. The only sense of danger I got was from the Police, who seemed hyped up.
After an incredible interview with a very passionate speaker, we decided to stay around for a while and catch snatches of Police conversations as they stood in lines around us. The gists of conversations were along the lines of being fed up, wanting to go home and wanting the protest to end. Oh just hurry up and go home. Said one officer behind me to some people who were singing protest songs.
Finally after a while there was a small group left outside Downing Street.  An officer came up to me to tell me if we did not all move we would all be arrested. Why I asked, I’m just standing here. You can’t stand in the road he said. Fair enough, can I go stand over there I asked. No he said. You can only go and stand in the designated protest area on the other side of the road. The what? The designated protest area?  I asked him if this was not somehow a breach of my human rights, my right to free speech. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Dunno he said and walked off. When did freedom of expression get put into a designated area?
So we dutifully crossed over and stood on the other side of the road. About 10 mins later Officer R came up to me and told me I could not stand there. Why I asked again. Frankly I was tired of being told I could not stand on a pavement any more. You have to stand behind that bollard he said. I was leaning on the bollard. In front and behind was the difference of one foot. Why can’t I stand here I said. Behind me was a group of teenagers having a heated conversation with the Police about the same thing. They along with a father and his son had just been pushed across the road by Police who told them to go stand in the designated area or be arrested. The teenagers were saying the only reason they were not being arrested was because they were underage.
I looked at Officer R and said, I’m not with them. So I am not causing any trouble. I am standing here and watching the protest. No you are part of the group he said. What group I asked. I am standing here by myself. I am an individual, not part of any group.You are all the same he said. I am an individual I said again. When did we become a society that herded people into groups? This was becoming a real nuisance. Seriously, was it my padded coat?
I moved away after a while and stood in front of a wall a little further away from the teenagers and the police. After about 5 mins while I was talking to our camerawoman, the same insidious tactics started and like The Birds the Yellow Jackets started to creep round me. I now had a ring of police behind me effectively blocking me from going anywhere. I spoke a bit louder than usual and said I had noticed the insidious tactics and it made me think of cockroaches.
Officer R heard me- well I had had enough! And turned around. He looked at me and I looked at him, called him by his name (on his uniform) and said hello. I asked him if he enjoyed his job and he said no. He said he was going to be retiring soon. And leaving London I said, by the sea? Yes he said. I asked him if he thought that this is what he would be doing when he signed up all those years ago. No he said. We don’t want to be here anymore than you want us here. They take us away from what we normally do (he was in charge of policing pick pocketing in the area) and bring us here, and take all the police off the streets for the day.  He told me he did not agree with the war but that if he ever made that view known publicly or went on an anti war march, in his own time he would lose his job. He would lose his job if he disagreed with Government Foreign Policy in his own personal time. Yes. He would lose his job!
He also told me that if there were enough stewards on these marches then there would be no need for as many Police. Good point. Why were there so few stewards? Has the STWC lost its momentum in recent years? I had seen few stewards on this march compared to all the others over the years I have gone on or stewarded on. The last steward I had encountered on the other side of the road had been oblivious to the call for us to move and instead as we were filming grabbed our camerawoman to tell her he liked her shoes and he had a pair just like those!
It was an interesting end to the day chatting to Officer R. He seemed tired of this whole set up, of telling people where they can and cannot stand and of being taken away from the work he wanted to do. When we finished chatting and I shook his hand and said it had been a pleasure I saw his colleagues look over at us and it wasn’t with approval. It was as if he had been caught with the enemy.
We have much to concern ourselves with here. Our freedoms are being eroded day by day. Right to protest, to free speech and somehow we have sleepwalked into allowing this to happen. "This is not a democracy, this is hypocrisy!" So said one of our interviewees.
I am not denying that the protests were charged, they were. People want an end to this War. The Police hold a responsibility to keep the peace, not to disrupt it. The biggest disruptive element for me was their behaviour. Behaviour sanctioned by our Government.How can the UK possibly wager war on other nations on the basis of bringing democracy to a nation when it so blatantly is destroying the foundations of democratic existence in its’ own country.
It is time for a serious change.
May the winds of change blow strong, clear and with dignity.

Harmonious Living

In the last 6 months I have heard a lot of stories of people living with "neighbours from Hell". Perhaps I am more aware of it and am so seeking these kinds of posts/comments as I too am suffering at the hands of such neighbours.

Since moving in here I have been utterly amazed at how much noise can affect your life detrimentally and at how unaware of others some people can be, especially when living in close proximity. It brings me back to our sense of community. How have tribes around the world been able to do it. How do communes do it. Why are we with all our knowledge and so called modernity unable to be respectful of our neighbours. To think how would I feel if that was happening to me.

The day I moved in, I changed the locks and that resulted in some drilling. Within about 5 mins the woman from upstairs had come downstairs to tell me the noise had to stop. It was 8pm on a Sunday evening and she was now having to go out for dinner because of my noise. I was shamefaced and a little upset. I wanted to get on with my neighbours and I was only changing the locks to feel safe in my new home. That very same evening, 2 hrs later, this same woman was slamming doors and talking so loudly I could hear everything below her flat. I thought perhaps she was getting her own back. Oh no! That was just the way she was. For the next month I did not get a single night's sleep because of the noise from her flat. From loud music, to shouting matches with her partner, to late night parties, to loud radios in the morning, to consistent door slamming. I felt truly like I had falled into a pit of pure pain.

The truly amazing thing was she was obviously sensitive to noise or she would not have come down to tell me to stop. Yet was utterly unaware of her actions. Before she left the building ( and she thankfully did) we did infact have a nice chat and she was very friendly. But still totally unaware of her noise levels. I did mention as politely as I could and she could not entertain the idea. Instead she talked about how noisy HER neighbours below her were! How was this possible? Was I doing the same? Thankfully not. I spoke to my neighbours in turns, passing each other in the halls and it turned out that 2 things were consistent. No one had any complaints about me making any noise. Quiet as a mouse said my neighbour. Second the same people who complained about noise made the most themselves.

Oh isnt't it awful when all you hear is the front door slamming says one. Cue the next time they go out- slam! And this not once but time and again. So somewhere between experiencing the issue and then being the issue what fell short. I would say its the old saying of walking in another man's shoes. I dont live on the ground floor, but I can imagine that the people who live down there get a lot of noise from the main door, from the people above them and the street so I dont want to add to that. I dont have a new born baby, but I can imagine that if there was somone with a young child I would not want to be making too much noise late at night. I'm no saint. I play my music loud sometimes, but not deafening. I dance around the flat, but wouldnt wear heels and do that on a wooden floor. Mainly because I dont want to be told I have impinged on someone else's space and time.

Yet the very same type of mentality that throws litter on the ground, that doesn't feel compelled to give an old lady or a pregnant woman a seat on the train, that says oh isn't it awful the level of criminality during the riots, but fiddles their tax return or sees someone drop something and keeps it than hand it over; can infllict on others and only be concerned when they are affected. Is unable to be mindful of others.

I shall continue to close doors quietly, to buy plants for the front porch to the building, to hoover the communal area that is my responsibility because that is the kind of community I want to live in. Though it makes me sad when I dont see it reciprocated there are nuggets of joy. Talking to the lady downstairs I told her what a hard time it had been with all the noise, chatted about other things and then went back to my housework, Half an hour later as I was hoovering the communal stairs she told me they had just hoovered their bit, and had put my potted plants in prime position by the front door. You remind me of my daughter she said. Exactly! We are all someone's daughter. We share space with someone's mother, sister, father, son. That is how community works. By creating with awareness an extended family.

In a community whether tribal or a commune, people learn to live together. To think of your neighbour as well as yourself. As well as, ie in the same way as you do for yourself. I don't like this, will someone else? When we feel that we are isolated, when we live in the fantasy constructs of big brother and celeb culture, we don't think we have to bother with anyone else. We are the stars of our own show and no one else gets a look in. If we cannot feel peaceful and relaxed in our own homes, then how can we contribute to the world, to society. If I have been disturbed by hammering and drilling all day, I feel disturbed. If the day has been peaceful, I feel at peace too. I can then take that out into the day. So maybe Everyman cannot change the issues across the world instantly. But we can change things at home, literally, with our neighbours. Like a country with it's borders. We can choose to create enemies and then build defences or attack. Or we can find a way to live side by side, in the knowledge that this peace will also be something we can take into our jobs and day to day life. And so into the World.

What is Community

Walking through the streets of Clapham today I was struck by how something had changed. It was not the boarded up shop fronts, or the greater police and media presence. It was a change in the air. Something felt like it had been purged; lifted. Almost like a bubbling resentment, anger had been let out.

For a long time I have felt there had been a lot of anger on our streets. And not just witnessed by the gang attacks or the malicious incidents but in every day life: in a shopping line, at the bus stop, on the tube. A gradual wearing down seemed to be happening of Respect and Community. Sitting on tube trains I would notice how few people gave up a seat for a pregnant woman, or took note if there was an altercation. Common decencies like letting people off a train first, please and thank you and generally being mindful of each other and our planet were less noticeable. I've walked behind people, young and I have to say old too, dropping litter with the same abandon of a rioter smashing a window- a lack of care.

Am I saying this has all disappeared? No not at all. But much in the same way that I have heard people talk about the Blitz spirit I saw some of that today. Its a sense of coming together. And quietness that may have been fear, may have been sadness, but also seemed an internal looking. For too long we have wandered around with ipods on full blast, phones dangling from our hands, our nose in a magazine and eyes glued to an ipad or media images on posters. Unaware, blocking out the world around us, each other and our inner emotions. Levels of over drinking have increased, levels of drug taking have almost become a norm, and with that a desensitizing of soul in this city. Emotions supressed, not expressed go where? Today it seemed people have been forced to really wake up and look at the city they live in, their neighbours, themselves. Ask questions: would I have done the same if presented with the opportunity, what do I want to do to the rioters, why did this happen? I heard people asking why. I heard the blinkered cries of "animals" and also heard the voice of insight: there were reasons. Animals do not attack their own. Animals attack to survive. If you are going to call these looters animals then ask why are they attacking their own. Why do they feel they need to fight for survival? We may laugh at the fact they robbbed a Poundland or a KFC; that a bag of rice is seen as a trophy; but ask what aspirations do these people have that even in the throws of so called "criminality" they set their sights on the mediocre?  And no- having a Blackberry does not mean you are privileged as ex actress Glenda Jackson thinks. It means you have a Blackberry- how you got it is another matter. More importantly deprivation takes many forms- not just the financial. From family, to support, opportunity, hope, love, sense of purpose, sense of safety- and on. We are constantly told money is not everything so why are we assuming that a nice pair of trainers and a fancy phone means all is well?

If we feel that disconnected from who we are, from where we are from, from the community in which we live then what is there to stop us hurting our own? An African proverb that is being posted on networking sites:
"If the young are not initiated, they will burn down the village just to feel its warmth".

We have lost our sense of community, worldwide and state wide. When images of people being tortured and photographed were released, when the slaughter of the innocent is seen do we feel the commonality of that blood, pain and fear? Or do we neatly segregate it into different faith, different beliefs, bad guys them, good guys us. When people walk by a homeless man begging for money in the snow as they shop for Christmas do they feel his pain? Do they think: another wino, addict, poor man, dont give him money or do they spend a monent to walk in his shoes.

There are plenty of generous people, donating and caring, I am not saying that. I am saying where is our community? Do we feel members of the World? Do we feel we are One? And that concept is not something to be shunted to esoteric circles. It is not about crystal waving hippies in some field, it is about us all as citizens of the world and caretakers of the planet and thus each other. As the proverb says, without initiation we are lost. Initiation happens in community. Small and large moments are marked and celebrated. Grievances and joys are shared. When the Shaman sit in circle, the circle represents that community. In that space everyone is equal and everyone is valued and listened to. With the celebration comes ceremony and with that a coming together to create- to build. So when people talk about the Blitz Spirit they talk of that coming together. That shared sense of being communities of the world and of together building, re building.

When we lack initiation, when our achievements no matter how small remaim unrecognised, unpraised and under valueed; when our problems are unheard and young children are committing suicide due to bullying and feeling they have no one to share this with- we seek initiation in a group that will be our surrogate commmunity. The looters, rioters whatever we call them, created their own renegade community. The ferocity with which they spread and the impact of their behaviour shows the power of coming together. Just think if all that passion, emotion and rawness was chanelled into something positive- what could we not achieve? What could we not change? Who could we become.

Riots are the language of the unheard

So said Martin Luther King. We are hearing on a loop how the violence is down to thuggery, and these "random acts of violence" have no place in our society. The same media loop that told us Jean Charles de Menezes was wearing a padded jacket and jumped the barriers. The same loop that told us we had to go to war because Iraq had "weapons of mass destruction". The same loop that tells us a handful of people turned up to show solidarity for the people of Palestine during one of many attacks on their human rights, when witnesses can say the streets were packed. The same loop that calls the flattening of buildings and homes in Afghanistan and Iraq "collateral damage" and has nothing to say of state sanctioned torture and disappearances. Are we really meant to buy this?

The biggest danger is not the youths roaming the streets, the fires being set, the looting, the fear. The biggest danger is the erosion of Human Rights this may well precipitate. Already cases are being "rushed through the courts". I want to know how sure are the police they have arrested the right person before a case is rushed. I saw 6 armed officers surround a totally innocent middle aged man yesterday because they were certain he was a terrorist. They were proven wrong. Must we still be fed the myth that the State is never mistaken, never acts like a hooligan, never disregards the feelings of others. We only have to look at the destruction of land, homes, lives during 2 illegal wars- and that is abroad and home.

I want to hear people ask why has this happened and what can we do to move forward. With traditional British stiff upper lipness- the refusal to engage with these extreme emotions: we have facebook groups suggesting we all have a nice cup of tea tonight and lead by example. Theres been enough sitting around and drinking cups of tea while innocent men are incarcerated in secret prisons,while Blair took us to 2 illegal wars, while the banks were rewarded and people lost their jobs. While the die hards were organising protests and signing petitions, the UK had a cup of tea, enjoyed some state blessed 24 hr drinking and watched X Factor. Now those that feel they have not been heard have taken to the streets. That kind of anger isnt just down to social networking or wanting a big telly- its deep seated, its almost generational. If you sat and asked a group of these people why are you doing this and really asked really listened you might hear stories of abuse, deprivation, job losses, lack of education, schools shut, stop and search powers abused and on and on. One youth from Hackney said people were sick of the police. He had been stopped 17 times in one week! You try going through that and know its happening because you are brown/black/live on the wrong street/ are being scapegoated- anything and see if you dont feel like throwing a brick or ten.

I am in no way justifying the damage, the loss, the fear. Its wrong. Its wrong when governments do it and when people do it. But lets look at how we got here. The country should be buzzing with people getting into communities, coming together sitting and talking about what can be done. Someone may be able to help re build the corner shop, someone may know the parents of the kids out there doing this and fancies going round to chat to the potential troublemakers, and so skills are pooled. But sitting at home, isolated, with your laptop, tv? Thats what got us here in the first place.

Community. Community. Share share share. Ask questions and dont accept all the answers we get. We ask and we ask and we ask again and we say we will use this to bring about the shift, the change we crave. We will most definitely not be passive in the running of our lives anymore. Sod the tea, Im going out to talk to my neighbour, to build a community. Right now.

And Then

Last night after the incident I witnessed and all the fear mongering, anger and emotion over the London riots- a double Rainbow to show there can be light at the end of this.

The face of our Fear is most definitely brown

Walking through Covent Garden today, I found myself nearly knocked over by a speeding police car down a small street with no sirens or lights on. I thought it strange they were in such a hurry but had no warning system. As I reached the Tesco’s in Covent Garden, I saw 6 heavily armed police officers surrounding a man. I walked past and saw a small, middle aged, Indian man. He was holding a white charity bucket in one hand. Two officers were standing behind him telling him not to move and to spread his legs; they were going to search him. Another 2 officers were taking all his belongings out of his small beige rucksack and reading every piece of paper and asking him about their contents. At the same time one other officer was asking him who he was, what his name was and why he was behaving suspiciously.  Someone else was going through his wallet. It seems in London these days to be Asian, and carrying a rucksack makes you instantly suspicious.

The man spoke broken English and he did not seem to quite understand what was going on. He kept saying he was collecting for charity and you could see from his body language and the way he was looking at them he was stunned and very scared. These men were tall, heavily built, all Caucasian, talking loudly, moving him around physically, going through his things and saying he had been reported for suspicious behaviour. Someone they said had seen him collecting for charity outside Covent Garden station and had called the police saying they had seen a terrorist.

You could feel the adrenalin rising in these men as they went through his bag and flashes of the fear mongering and its terrible outcome with Jean Charles went through my mind. This man had been stopped and searched purely because of the colour of his skin. If a Caucasian man or woman had been standing outside Covent Garden station with a charity bucket and a rucksack would someone have rung the police saying there is a possible terror attack? Do people go around calling the police every time they see a Big Issue seller? Or one of those chuggers? They look more threatening half the time than this small framed middle aged man. But then Jean Charles had no padded jacket on, did not jump over any barriers. He was not even carrying the dreaded rucksack. He was simply the wrong colour. The colour of a terrorist.

They spotted me watching and I felt myself get worked up. I wanted to cause a scene.  To let people know what was going on here. I said Racists out loud. They heard me and none of the armed men could look me in the eye. An Asian bobby who had turned up, couldn’t stop eyeballing me. I stared right back. Police tactics work in so many ways to provoke, intimidate.

After reading all his personal papers, and telling him they thought he could be a terrorist; they had to admit they found nothing. To stop anyone seeing what they were doing they formed a ring around him. They could see me watching, so they blocked my view. The biggest of them was laughing and asking where he should go next. To the next brown man I suggested. He ignored me. People walked by but because they had ringed him in no one could see what was happening. It was clear now he was not carrying a bomb- so now they formed a tighter ring round him- to hide what? The fact they had been searching a man based on the colour of his skin perhaps?

After half an hour the armed police left. 2 plain clothes were left taking his details and the Asian bobby kept eye balling me. I had nothing to hide. I eyeballed him back. Eventually they left and the man was left crouching in the street putting his things away. I went up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. Asked him was he okay. I did not want to scare him. I told him I had seen what had happened . He seemed wary and said yes he was fine. I said I would have been scared, I was scared because of how many men there were. And his eyes started to fill with tears and he said yes he was scared but he was okay. He asked me my name and where I was from. He said he did not understand why he had been stopped. I told him it was because he was carrying a rucksack. He did not understand what that word meant. And because he was brown. He understood that with a resigned acceptance . Just as I was asking him if he needed anything the Asian bobby turned up again. They had been sat in the police car watching me.

He looked down at where I was crouched with the man and asked me if I was okay. I said yes thank you fine. He would not move. He looked at my brown paper bag from the Tea Shop in Neal Street. There was a terracotta tea pot in there and some Jasmine tea. I told him I did not have a bomb and would he like to arrest me because I was brown too. He said nothing. I said I am having a private conversation please would you go away. He said I saw you say “racists” and I wanted to explain we are not and I am Asian. Good for you I said. You stopped this man because of the colour of his skin. He started to say no and started to get quite pushy. Provocative I would call it. I was not going to be riled. I told him I was exercising my human right to have a private conversation, he was disturbing this, he had no legal right to stop me speaking to someone and to go away. He would not go away. He said he wanted to explain to me why they had stopped this man. Perhaps he thought me press. Perhaps he thought this would go further. I turned my back on the bobby and finished my conversation with the man.

I wandered dazed and upset into Tesco’s to get away from the meddling Bobby, who would not even let me extend some generosity to the man they had just harassed.  Aimlessly moving through chiller cabinets and food aisles, I went to leave and there he was, resilient, by the entrance with his white charity bucket in Tesco’s. He was not making any noise. Just silently standing there with his bucket collecting for charity.  We spoke some more. He seemed stunned but he thanked me for being kind to him. I asked him for an interview and he said sure. I hope to share his story with you in his own words here of the experience. He told me he was from Bangladesh and was collecting for the poor and sick back home.

This incident is a sharp reminder of where we are with the terror laws that were rushed through. Take this incident and change a few variables. The man has a beard and Muslim dress. The man is younger, resents being stopped, resists the Police.  The man has no papers to prove who he is. The man doesn’t speak English. The man has a Koran on him and literature that is anti war. The man has people who want to teach him a lesson, has annoyed his neighbour, who report on him-and you are one step closer to cases like Baber Ahmad. To extraordinary rendition, to Shaker Aamer still languishing in GTMO.

Wrong place, wrong time, and most definitely the wrong colour.