TWISTS & TURNS

TWISTS & TURNS

Civilization used to be under the illusion that the world as flat and lived lies accordingly, this is a notion we can all believe at today, but once upon a time this had people absolutely terrified. At one point or another in our lives we have all believed a lie; that doesn't make us dumb or stupid.

           In my past believed a lie. I believed it was kill or be killed, I believed drug dealing was an acceptable way to make a living, I believed the street was my territory and the land of my world; I believed there was no hope.

          The moment we are born we all embark upon a journey and like any journey all it takes is for one wrong turn to leave someone in the wrong place. The alcoholic that sleeps in the park is a human being just like me and you; that cocaine addict in the shelter is a human being just like me and you; they just took a wrong turn. Since when did we penalize an individual for being lost?

          That brother of mine you labeled a monster, as an adolescent he had dreams to be a lawyer, or a medical doctor, or an engineer but en route got lost. People can end up lost for various reasons. They could have asked for directions and been misguided, or they could have followed those who, they believed, knew the way and been misled.

          Some of my peers have made your headlines, front pages, your tea-time discussions, all for the wrong reasons. And because of the places they have wound up, you feel you have the right to give them labels. You call us hoodlums. Scoundrels. Monsters. Dogs. Animals. But you only know about the incident that got them in the headlines, not the situations that led them to the incidents.

          I have heard so many take digs at the parents of these people, as if they are the beginning and the end of the matter. But in most cases youths are not sat in their homes with sub-machine guns scared that their parents are going to take their lives. Instead, Fear grips them when they step outside their homes, when they walk down the Creeks, twists and turns of their streets.

          Society is supposed to act as everyone's guardian, but society's neglect of the underprivileged has created what you now refer to as "monsters". Now Frankenstein monsters have been created, the public has turned into an angry mob with pitchforks and torches trying to kill the problem, not to solve it.

          I didn't come into the world with the intent of joining a gang. But after being attacked on several occasions, I had a stark choice to make: either I remained a victim or took up power in my own way. I couldn't walk from my house to the corner shop without the fear of being approached for my phone or the bike I got for my birthday. That constant uncertainty troubled me greatly and, on top of that, my friends were all experiencing the fate of intimidation.

          This led me to the conclusion that I was going to take the bullet, a prospect that both scared me and intrigued me, because I had a sense of feeling unimportant and thought that being a gangster would resolve this.

          From a young age I lacked self-esteem. I was bullied, which contributed to my feeling of worthlessness. I thought representing a culture that seemed to have space for me would offer me solace and a chance to form an identity; an identity which I did form and would constantly put my neck on the line time and time again. It soon spiraled out of control. But even though the position I was in wasn't a good one, it was destroying me and my peers. I felt powerless to end it. As a teenager, I lost one of my best friends to a stabbing; he was the first of my friends to be murdered. He was killed with a stab to the chest. It pierced his heart, causing the blood to shoot from his body at such a pressure, propelling the front of the top he was wearing into the air.

          You would have thought this sort of incident should have been a wake-up call, but all I did was build rage within me. I cried until there were no more tears left to come out from my tear ducts; I didn't eat or drink for days. I was traumatized. His burial was also just wood to fire, not closure, and the emotional damage it inflicted on all of us only strengthened our resolve to become more fearsome as a gang.

Yes i broke the law, but society helped in the breaking of my identity and instead of taking the time to fix it sensitively and with love, all that is thrown at it are more police and more money. There is no easy solution it is not the breakdown of a car, it is a breakdown of a human life, in a lot of cases children.

          I myself was a lost child, broken and traveling a road of destruction en route to either death, lifelong incarceration or the mental institution. But I received the right directions from genuine, loving, sincere people who knew the implications of my journey and decided to be a part in the upbringing of a new future, by directing my steps and helping every step of the way to a better man.

          So next time, instead of pointing fingers of condemnation and judgment, try to use the same finger to point us in the right direction. These issues cannot be treated by incarceration or medicated by psychology. We need practical help, financial aid, safe space and an environment of love: a real helping hand every step of the way, can save a straying youth.

Augustus Bills

2012