BBC
home affairs correspondent Tom Symonds was mugged at knifepoint last
year and the perpetrator is now serving a four-year sentence. Tom went
to meet him as part of a restorative justice programme, which aims to
cut reoffending by confronting criminals with the consequences of their
actions.
Everyone wants to see less crime on Britain's streets, but it
is not often we get an opportunity to take part in the fight, in
person. Arriving at Littlehey Prison near Huntingdon, it felt to me like
it was worth a try.
One dark night in March 2012, I was walking home after a long
day at work when a stocky young man with a hood, mask, and knife came
from behind me and demanded my phone and wallet.
I did the right thing, handing them over, and he was off,
leaving me shaken and unhurt. His final words were, "Don't call the
police. I've got a mate watching you".
It wasn't true of course, and when the police arrived, a
fast-moving sequence of events led to my mugger's arrest. He was tracked
down using the Find My iPhone app and caught after a fleet-of-foot
police officer chased him through a north London housing estate.
“Start Quote
I realised that I genuinely wanted to make this guy change his ways”
Tom Symonds
Eighteen months later, we are to
meet again. Working my way through the patdown and dog search necessary
to go behind bars, I ponder my role as The Victim.
Because the mugger kept the knife at his side, and was
caught, I don't feel particularly victimised. I've had no nightmares,
and the main effect of being mugged has been a constant urge to look
behind me when walking down dark London streets.
That's not going away. But I was lucky - those who are more
traumatised may benefit from conquering their fear of an offender, or
just letting rip at someone who has done them wrong.
Tony Walker, from Restorative Solutions, is facilitating the
meeting on behalf of Why me?, a charity promoting restorative justice.
He tells me of one elderly victim of crime who is too terrified to open
her door, even to him. But meeting her offender made a difference.
"She took one look at him in prison," he says, "and she realised 'is that it? Is that what I've been worried about'?"
Tom Symonds's mugging
He came from the darkness behind me. "Mate?"
I spotted the knife straight away. Down to his side, but not hidden. He was masked and hooded, but calm and confident.
"Give me your phone."
I wasn't exactly looking forward
to trekking to a Cambridgeshire prison on a sunny day. I felt the mugger
would get more out of this than me, and many victims may ask what's in
it for them.
But then I realised that I genuinely wanted to make this guy
change his ways. Rethink his life. I feel like a bit of a do-gooder, but
I confess it would make me feel good to persuade him out of future
crime.
We come face to face in a small room containing comfy chairs and a box of tissues.
He is wearing jeans, a short-sleeve shirt, trainers - and a
look of terror. I try to reassure him that I'm not going to get angry.
He relaxes.
Restorative Justice works like this. We all describe the
events of that night - offender first. Then we all say what effect it
had on us, and finally, what we want to happen next.
It is a good system because it focuses on the consequences a
crime can have - the way in which the decision to commit an offence can
be the start of a long chain of damage.
Mugging every two minutes
"It's about really putting that fear into them," admitted
Jermaine, who first got involved in street crime at the age of 11. He is
now a qualified youth worker, working with gangs and the probation
service.
One in three mugging victims is physically injured. More than
one in 10 mugging victims get anxiety or panic attacks and 92% are
emotionally affected.
Aidan, 21, even resorted to wearing a stab vest after he was
mugged and attacked on his way home from lectures at Leeds University.
"Your mind comes up with scenarios of how someone's going to attack you."
In his case, what he did has affected me of course, and to a degree my wife and children. But most damaged are his parents.
His mum and dad are in the room. She seems quietly angry. He,
over the next hour or so, demonstrates his horror at his son's actions,
in several long monologues.
My mugger tells me he was on his way home from a party and decided to rob the first person he saw that night.
"Why?" I ask.
"I was going shopping in the West End the next day and I wanted some money to spend," he says.
This annoys me. I'd been hoping some heavy had been demanding repayment of a debt, requiring the acquisition of ready cash.
But then I find myself joking with him when he describes the
mugging itself. I tell him he failed to spot the laptop in a bag on my
shoulder. "Attention to detail," I say with a smile.
I flip-flop the other way a few minutes later, saying, with
some anger, that no-one should have to tell their kids there could be
knife-wielding criminals on the street where they live.
Muggings do not always happen where you think they might
I realise I'm all over the place. Not being consistent. I should concentrate on the main aim - persuading him not to re-offend.
On paper this looks tricky. He's someone who chose to carry
out a knifepoint mugging two weeks after being released from prison for
exactly the same offence. He committed this offence in almost the same
street.
So we all get stuck in. A volley of arguments from all
angles. From Mum: "You need to move away from the friends you hang out
with." From Dad: "You embarrass me, and your brothers and sisters.
You'll ruin your life."
I try a different tack, partly informed by previous
experience of speaking to young gang members as a journalist covering
youth crime.
Knife crime sentencing
Proportion of offences receiving cautions, community sentences
and immediate custodial sentences for knife or offensive weapon
possession appear to have decreased slightly in England and Wales, while
proportion of suspended sentences increased slightly between Q1 2011
and Q1 2012
In Q1 2012 22% (1,080) of all possession offences resulted in immediate custody compared with 24% (1,242) in Q1 2011
Where immediate custodial sentences are given, the proportion receiving longer sentences has increased
"Carry a knife," I say, "and eventually you'll use it. People can bleed to death in two minutes, then you're up for murder.
"If you get done again, it'll just get worse and worse.
"You've got parents who care about you. Many young offenders don't have that.
"If you're tempted to break the law again, think - 'I'm going to get caught.'
"Some guys caught up in youth crime actually think the friend who moves away from crime is the cool one."
Even, desperately, "I'm going to tell them I want to be informed if you offend again. You've got me on your back now."
So what's his reaction? Sometimes a smile, sometimes tears. A
slightly forced, "I'm sorry for what I did," followed by a more
believable, "I really mean it, I need to make different choices."
He promises to restart voluntary work postponed by his prison sentence. He promises his parents he'll do the right thing.
But in the end, it's three middle-aged people trying to
change the path of a young man in his early 20s. I can't help thinking
that we have no real idea what's in his mind.
And then it's over. He devours a box of chocolate biscuits provided by the prison and I leave.
I turn to the facilitator, Tony. "What do you think of his reaction?" I ask.
"Definitely on the positive side," he says.
So perhaps we've made a difference and prevented a life of crime. It's impossible to know, but at least we've tried.
No comments:
Post a Comment