The UK government is planning to re-introduce the ‘sus’ law which allows police to stop and search people at random. The move, apparently, is an attempt to bring down the knife and gun crime numbers on London’s streets.

Along the years, the overwhelming majority of people stopped have been from black and ethnic minorities while the numbers of youth from these communities killed by guns and knives have also risen.

There is no empirical evidence that proves that ‘sus’ laws deter crime and in fact, they exacerbate the tension already existing between the police and ethnic communities, in my opinion. Most people I know who have been stopped have been filled with rage at the humiliation of being stopped and searched when they have done nothing wrong. I am also very worried about my teenaged nephews – what would happen if they are stopped.

Since the news was announced, I have been thinking about and have re-read Sonny’s Letta (Anti-Sus Poem) by the world’s premier reggae poet and the legend that is Linton Kwesi Johnson. Of course, this poem is best listened to, in the poet’s own magnificent and emotive voice, rather than read

Sonny’s Letta (Anti Sus Poem)
Brixtan Prison
Jebb Avenue
Landan south-west two
Inglan

Dear Mama,
Good Day.
I hope dat wen
teze few lines reach yu,
They may find yu in di bes af helt.

Mama,
I really don’t know how fi tell yu dis,
cause I did mek a salim pramis
fi tek care a likkle Jim
an try mi bes fi look out fi him.

Mama,
I really did try mi bes,
but nondiless
mi sarry fi tell yu seh
poor likkle Jim get arres.

It woz di miggle a di rush howah
wen evrybady jus a hosel an a bosel
fi goh home fidem evening showah;
mi an Jim stan-up
waitin pan a bus,
nat causin no fus,
wen all af a sudden
a police van pull-up.

Out jump tree policeman,
di hole a dem carryin batan.
Dem waak straight up to mi an Jim.

One a dem hol awn to Jim
seh him tekin him in;
Jim tell him fi let goh a him
far him noh dhu notn
an him naw teef,
nat even a butn.
Jim start to wriggle
di police start to giggle.

Mama,
mek I tell yu whe dem dhu to Jim
Mama,
mek I tell yu whe dem dhu to him:

dem tump him in him belly
an it turn to jelly
dem lick him pan him back
an him rib get pap
dem lick him pan him hed
but it tuff like led
dem kick him in him seed
an it started to bleed

Mama,
I jus coudn stan-up deh
an noh dhu notn:
soh mi jook one in him eye
an him started to cry
mi tump one in him mout
an him started to shout
mi kick one pan him shin
an him started to spin
mi tump him pan him chin
an him drap pan a bin

an crash
an ded.

Mama,
more policeman com dung
an beat mi to di grung;
dem charge Jim fi sus,
dem charge mi fi murdah.

Mama,
don’t fret,
don’t get depress
an doun-hearted.
be af good courage
till I hear fram you.

I remain
your son,
Sonny.

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