The loss of a child to a family, no matter what the circumstance, creates feelings of grief and desolation sufficiently acute as not to be easily assuaged by even the most heartfelt expressions of condolence. Where such a loss results not from accident or illness but from some unspeakable act of defilement and murder inflicted by some miscreant for twisted self-gratification, the pain is infinitely more acute and the loss is often attended not just by inconsolable grief but also by uncontrollable rage; by a thirst not simply for justice but for vengeance. Those closest to the tragedy can also become consumed by guilt arising out of haunting questions about whether more could not have been done to keep the victim safe. Those can be life-changing ordeals.
There is no reason to believe that the family of nine-year-old Shaquan Gittens have not been drifting in and out of those emotional conditions ever since his lifeless, defiled body was found aback of South Ruimveldt three days after he disappeared on April 1. The intervening days may well have been a terror-filled blur for Shaquan’s mother, and after her hopes for his safe return to her had been dashed by the gruesome discovery of his body it would have been as though her world had caved in.
After the reports of the incident had done the rounds, there was the far more public response, the outpouring of sympathy, the expressions of outrage, the assertions about the need for parents to be more vigilant and the sense of wonderment over the fact that miscreants of the sort that defiled Shaquan and then took his life dwell in our midst. Those sorts of occurrences tend to have a collective sobering effect though, regrettably, the impact rarely if ever results in a serious corrective resolve.
The tragedy goes deeper. Each time an incident of such stomach-churning barbarity occurs it further drives home the reality of what we have become, a society that breeds more than its fair share of perverts whilst manifesting a woeful ineptitude in terms of our ability to protect ourselves and those we love – particularly our children – from them.
Sometimes the slippage begins in homes with less than vigilant parents, or else, in circumstances where poor working parents provide only minimal protection, the partial surrender of their children to the ‘protection’ of familiar neighbourhoods and in the process creating openings for perverted opportunists.
Our failure, for example, to protect our innocents from the unpredictable excesses of victims of drug abuse is manifested in chronic official neglect as exemplified in government’s failure to give effect to those key provisions of the Narcotics, Drugs and Psychotropic Substances (Control) Act of 1998 and more particularly to Part VIII of the Act which pronounces on the setting up of rehabilitation centres and the “committal of persons” to those centres. In the face of such inexcusable neglect we must continue to live cheek by jowl with deviants who ought to be legally restrained.
The need to keep our children closer to us, to be more mindful, less trusting amounts to a worrying wake-up call. Time was when we could be comforted by what one might call collective community parenthood, where parenthood was a collective community responsibility. These days we are compelled, frequently with good reason, to be far less trusting of those who live in our midst. It is the same within the school system where official disclosures of sexual predators amongst teachers are made with worrisome regularity. Parents cannot afford to be unmindful of what are, in fact, official cautions.
Shaquan’s brutal killing was no precedent; it was, however, a reminder that protecting our children poses more onerous responsibilities for parents, communities, the state and society as a whole. On their own, even the best-intentioned laws are useless unless effect is given to them. Tough as it is to countenance, a point has long been reached where, as far as the safety of their children is concerned, parents must accept that no one can be trusted any more and that they have to take matters into their own hands.
