My son wrote: "Pull out my shot gun ten slugs left in your jaw"

The Caribbean diaspora is buzzing with news and views of the convictions for the Birmingham shootings. Four men have been jailed for life after the killings of two teenage girls on 2 January 2003.

My friends overseas were surprised to learn that our inner cities bear such a resemblance to east Port of Spain in Trinidad, to west Kingston in Jamaica, or to Bedford Stuyvesant in New York. In recent days, I have conversed by telephone and e-mail on the current state of affairs. Since I left Trinidad and Tobago a few weeks ago, the eastern district of Port of Spain has been surrounded by scores of policemen and soldiers toting machine-guns. Gun crime has escalated as crews of young men slug it out with the latest military hardware.

The inspiration for this social anarchy comes from New York, which sets the trend for the Caribbean diaspora. There is significant movement of black youth between the UK, New York and the Caribbean, and they indulge in the drug trade, credit card fraud and a vibrant market in guns. They dress alike, they have an international language of their own, and they warm to the same entertainment. Fratricide is the order of the day. Last year, Trinidad, with a population of 1.2 million, boasted a murder a day. The way this year is going, the rate will be doubled in 2005.

In Birmingham, the gangs call themselves, for example, the Burger Bar Boys and the Johnson Crew. Their Caribbean equivalents have more exotic names, such as the G Unit, the Vegas Boys and the Gambinos. I tried to convince my friends that it is not as bad as it seems. I protested that gun crime is falling - by 10 per cent in the past year in London - because the black working class has campaigned to suppress it.

I quoted my youngest son, who flirted with a south London crew. We had a blazing row; then he wrote some hip-hop lyrics:

Herewith, only in part

Wake up one morning with two shots through your window
Look through the holes and see me smoking the endo
Don't give me a diddy come through your front door
Pull out my shot gun ten slugs left in your jaw
Braup nigger want some more?

Now he seems settled after a period of turbulence that almost saw him off to Feltham prison or the local cemetery.

Post your comment

Please note: you will need to login or register before you can comment on the website