Submitted by Observing
It has been a while since I last wrote, but the recent murder of two young, bright souls has a way of forcing reflection. Some moments do that. They interrupt whatever rhythm you have settled into and demand that you stop, think, and respond.
So let us rewind for a moment.
In 2007, a shooting during Crop Over sparked national outrage. There were calls for heads to roll, for the hangman’s noose to be unearthed, for an Attorney General to be fired. The country reacted with a level of intensity that signaled something deeper than the incident itself. And truth be told, those reactions were justified. Even then, those who were paying attention could see that what we were witnessing was not an isolated event, but part of a trend that had been building since the late 90s. What started as concern in certain communities was slowly becoming something more embedded, more visible, more difficult to ignore.
That moment, along with others, helped shape a wider rejection of the leadership of the day. Like many administrations before and after, there was a tendency to talk (or not talk), to manage perception, and to hope that time would resolve what required deliberate action. It did not. And the voters spoke.
Now fast forward to today, and it is difficult to ignore the parallels.
We have seen the incidents at Nelson Street, the shooting at Sheraton, and now this past weekend. Oistins Fish Festival, an event which should represent community, culture, and pride, was disrupted by gun violence. A few miles away, Carlisle Bay, Brownes Beach, a space associated with leisure, enjoyment and sunsets experienced the same disregard for life. Different settings, same issue.
The casualties may not mirror what we saw in 2007, but the pattern feels uncomfortably familiar. There is a growing culture of crime, an increasing normalisation of gun violence, and a noticeable erosion of the social norms that once acted as a quiet but firm guardrail, particularly among segments of our young men.
And so we have to ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions.
Are we now at the point where staying home feels is preferred than participating in our own national life out of fear for safety?
Have we quietly sunk into the view that “it is not my problem” as long as it does not reach our doorstep?
Are we willing to live with the perception that there are individuals who can move guns, drugs, humans and violence with a level of confidence that suggests they believe they cannot be touched?
And perhaps most importantly, have we begun to accept this as the natural consequence of where we now find ourselves in a small, open island state navigating rapid economic and social change, increasingly susceptible to external influences?
To be fair, on the surface, there is much to celebrate. Foreign investment is strong. Tourism numbers are encouraging. New developments rise and signal progress. The messaging, politically, is polished and reassuring. But beneath that surface, there is a tension that cannot be ignored. It is the kind of tension that other countries have experienced before, often while convincing themselves that things were still under control. Time has shown that they were not.
There is a clear link between what we are seeing and our growing civic disengagement, political apathy, and the quiet but real shifts in how our communities function and relate. Some will see it. Others will dismiss it. But whether we acknowledge it or not does not change the truth.
When violence at public events feels less shocking and more expected, when those outside the law grow bolder, and when those voices of “good” choose retreat over resistance, then this is no longer just a challenge. It is a new normal taking hold.
And when we criticize the poor man but excuse the rich; condemn a lost decade but celebrate political opportunism; preach compassion while practicing none; then we are not just observing hypocrisy. We are both accepting and promoting it.
When buildings, idols, and fame replace values and principles; when education no longer starts at home and clearly cannot continue at school; when a people shrug their shoulders and say “oh well”….then it is we who have determined our fate.
And that, more than anything else, should concern those of us who care.
God bless Bim.
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