No silence on gang violence.

Guns, drugs and murder, these things in The Bahamas used to be unheard of. But this is real life, filled with the anger and discontent of the blighted and adds to the economic and social strife. How have we gotten here? If someone told you the real truth would you want to hear? Probably not. So, real solutions to fixing this problem is put out of thought, and the people in the fight will continually fight this fight for all things naught.

But, how we got here is what you need to hear. Don't fear what you truly need to hear, because it's that knowledge which gives you the courage amidst the violence and threats of violence in the air.

Fact of the matter is, and to figure it out doesn't take a whizz, that The Bahamas doesn't make guns, the big ones and not even the small ones. We produce not one gram of cocaine, so the thought of us being a major trafficker leaves me perplexed to the point where you may think I'm insane.

It just doesn't seem right, that such a voracious narcotics appetite, from the folks up North and to the North-West, will do anything for that lady in white even though our law enforcement does their best to make any and every drug arrest.

The drug culture of the 80's was nothing to play with, communities rocked to the core with persons high off of their drug of choice you could not live one day with.

As with illicit activities, thus came the need to protect the strongholds in the inner cities. Inner cities became drug wastelands with barons roaming with pistols in their waistband, along with corrupt officials on the take, the lords of the street were looking to make their next victim freezer meat while one family sings hymns at their loved one's wake, the "Don-Dadda's" had just one offer to make: Take this, or die from this.

These offers no one dared to refuse, if one did they may have been found with the refuse. In broad-daylight they made you disappear out of sight, or while you snoozed they came for you in the late night. No stage fright, just show up at your front door to put another down for the final snore, good night.

What all of this has done has allowed many folks believe we really won't win this one. These people aren't on our run, and walking the streets like you used to just isn't fun. It's dangerous, really. Do you feel me? I'm not being silly, childish, scary or flippant, really.

Now as the drugs are said to be coming under control, or so some wants us to think, the gang boys are still on patrol, and with one false move you can be snuffed out in a blink.

They say that average folks need not worry, because as the bullets fly by in their flurry, it's the other gang boys that those gang boys want and not you, so do your do, live your life, go out and enjoy the town with your family members, husband or wife.

However, it's safe, until someone gets the wrong house, and obliterates everything in sight including the wall mouse. It's ok, they say, until the bullets start to rain on a mother in her bed, bullets that have no discretion, whether it hits her arms, chest, legs or head.

No, it's not ok! It's just not ok...Ok? Because now we have a gang culture, with young men and women under the impression that this new family is their lifeblood, this new culture, but really these new family members are nothing but vultures. For anyone that tells you "hang with us", and leave school, must really think you are a bloody fool. While you, the new fool, leave school to protect their interests, rest assured one day they will see you as their witness. Get it? You can bet on it.

So instead of producing that new scholar, we have lost ones looking to protect someone else's dollar, with their A.K. as their a.k.a, forget the abc's, please, they want to make their competition d.o.a.. Yes, they will kill this city. That's right, we will feel the pity.

As the bodies pile, and the morgue puts another one on file, while we cower, the folks in power, really do understand but they have no solution for this mess on hand. If there was an easy solution, we would be using it by now and we would not feel the disillusion. If we had any short or long term solution, we would be shouting it too and fro, we would see the results and the entire world would know, from Beijing to Houston.

The problem just can't be solved simply, you see, and with this other concurrent dynamic, I want you to really understand me: Those same crack 80's, the 80's that we were reported to only traffic drugs to the USA (yay! we only trafficked drugs to the USA), we created crack men and ladies of our own and those ladies produced crack babies. Those same crack babies also had babies.

These crack babies grew up on their own, with no mother or father at home, they had to fend for themselves until they became grown, and had to live life alone where love and attention was never truly known.

They know it, and they hate it, and their actions show it, and we fail to appreciate it, but we need to debate it.

While the crack babies' baby may not use crack, maybe, they are born addicted, hungry and afflicted. They are socially, mentally and physically maladjusted, not in their right mind, from the onset of birth, for what it's truly worth, one would have to wonder if they should truly be trusted? Of course you should feel disgusted. Of course, trust my source.

It may seem harsh, but when we see the amount of drug use involved in today's violent crime, what seems very harsh is the best description of the time.  A time that may be repeating itself, but on a smaller scale, a time that's telling itself, and a time where the evidence in our social constructs and safety nets have quite clearly shown us a fail.

Who's truly to blame: Is it you, me, you over there, you right here, him or her? It seems like a blur. To some, but not me my learned one.

We should not be blaming anyone anyway, because when the accusations start to fly, the seriousness of the theatre that's these streets and the lives of our youth you see as you drive by, becomes the stage of one very sad play, all day, every day.

The big kids these days clearly aren't playing, and they don't care for anything the hypocrite in a suit appears to be saying. It's a real fight to get our young people back on track, and in the right frame of mind, we have to get it right or else this country will be put flat on it's back, we are very seriously running out of time.

This crime, drugs and gang problem already has us on our knees, with The Bahamas being now labelled as a conflict zone, and the US Embassy warning visitors that The Bahamas is a perpetual warzone, the fact is that what's done is done and there is nothing about it that can now be washed out in the spin zone, and in the vernacular: "It don't care who please!"