I see normal service has resumed as far as the weather is concerned, yep autumn came in swiftly following our belated summer – wrap up warm, winter is hot on its tail.

Just to reassure you, nope I will not be doing that very British thing and commenting on the weather every week – only anything unusual and 27degrees is unusual even for British summertime!

So to South Africa – Cape Town has long been top of my priority list of places to visit, so in my attempt at fact finding and positive thinking I thought I’d look it up and check out what’s going on since Apartied. Imagine my surprise when I found out that not much has changed; in fact a sort of Apartheid still exists there. I’m left bewildered.

When Mandela and the ANC took over power in 1994 it was on a wave of optimism…the hope was anything could be achieved – It’s like when Blair government came into power after 23 years of conservative rule, or the flood of optimism that carried Obama into the White House…all key milestones in history. Have all three failed?

People had high expectations; they expected life changing transformational government eager to make the necessary changes and impact in areas such as social justice, education, employment, housing and tackling the widespread inequalities linked with poverty. If anything little has changed in Cape Town or the townships.

I would argue Mandela was a great figurehead and inspirational leader, however he was not equipped for the real nitty gritty politicking and hard choices required to turn South Africa aspirations into reality. But then this is where his government should have come in – he was seriously let down by his cabinet and elected people within the ANC.

I think it’s a disgrace that townships still exist in the same conditions as they were under apartheid. In Capetown the ruling local government is still majority ‘white’, quite a number of black South Africans still work for pittance in the luxury hotels or the houses of the ‘haves’ yet the “have nots” had to travel back to their township shacks with no electricity, running water or toilets. They sleep on the floor and the money they make cannot even feed their family for a full week.

Cape Town has a long history of immigration and uniquely the blacks find themselves in the minority. Under Mandela and subsequent ANC governments, blacks expected to be liberated, but has it got worse? What do you think?

                                 Strength, Loyalty and Friendship

And so to change the subject – What’s with the MJ trial?

The doctor definitely played a part in the final act that took Michael’s life, but let’s face it anyone with the sort of issues Michael had would have killed himself sooner or later. People say “a life lost” however I’m afraid that life was lost a long long time ago. Yes I did feel a bit sorry for him – his childhood was indeed stolen by his parents, or certainly his dad, so maybe there should have been more people in the dock. Whilst I remain on the fence as to whether or not he molested those children, I do believe that right up to his death, despite being an excellent showman and music entrepreneur, there was still parts of him that remained a child.

This leads me nicely onto a subject that’s quite alarming really – Youth Unemployment. Figures out today say they are around 8.9% unemployed, the highest it’s been since 1996! What on earth has happened here?

I’ll tell you what’s happened, this government or for that matter the one before have not executed any credible policy for kick starting or sustaining small businesses’ or local industries apart from those policies aimed at bailing out and protecting the financial banking industry.

Fifty years ago we were producers and exporters, now we’re consumers and importers. Successive governments have failed to invest in skilling up young people for employment in the 21st century. The school curriculum fails to equip those young people interested in entering work instead of university. For those aged 15-18, most schools and colleges are more biased towards academia and traditional forms of qualifications. What they need is choice and access to high quality vocational industry qualifications and proper apprenticeships. A time for major change wouldn’t you say?

Unfortunately those young people out there who really want to work have got to be prepared to go the extra nine yards, and by that I mean yes you do have to accept jobs that you may feel are beneath you such as burger flipping in McDonald’ or Burger King and working your way up or out – because it’s a fact it’s easier to get a job when you’ve already got one. So you need to start somewhere.

Also, those of you seeking voluntary work to gain the necessary skills, knowledge and social skills employers are seeking – be prepared to work hard for little or nothing, so you can increase your chances of securing future careers. But remember I’m not always right but I’m seldom wrong!!!!!!!!!!!

And so at last I urge you to read my poem of the week in my poetry section – it is dedicated to the family of Milton Williams.

Milton Williams, a Guyanese born poet, immigrated to England in 1960 and was sectioned in 1964. He remained in psychiatric institutions until he died in 2005.

I was fortunate to meet Milton and work with him for a couple of years.

On his death numerous files full of poetry were found in his belongings. These not only expressed his feelings about being part of the mental health system, but also his feelings of loss and separations from his homeland and family, and living in a country where he felt alien.

Various art forms have long been recognised as an outlet for the emotions of mental distress, and as a help towards recovery.

Historical figures including Beethoven, Charles Dickens, and Van Gogh have all suffered from mental disorders.

Creative writing and Art appear to be the two main areas people who suffer from mental illness choose to express themselves, and indeed enrich our lives…… Check out his poetry.

Justice For All

(Pages 3 & 4)

Josephine hated cases that were called up at Southwark Crown Court. One because it meant it was a big case, that more likely than not would result in some media coverage. But more importantly it meant that she had to cross the great divide, the Thames, which always threw her into a frenzy about which bridge to use. Had she left from home then most definitely it would have been Blackfriars, but coming from Palmers Green today meant it made sense to use London Bridge. Except that meant to avoid traffic she had to travel through Stamford Hill, and when she arrived at the junction of Kirkland and Amhurst Road behind three cars, two driven by recent arrivals to the country and one by Mrs Yashmak, she knew she was doomed. Ten minutes she waited for the first car to realise that this was London at rush hour which meant, as far as traffic was concerned it was everyone for themselves. Calculating in her mind Josephine noted had it not been for that one junction she would probably have been on time.

Traffic at a standstill again she knew it would all be over by now, so as soon as she could she pulled over and called Errol from her mobile.

“Where the hell are you?” were his first words on recognising Josephine’s voice.

‘Never mind , how long did he get?”

“Forty five years. And was Judge Chambers pissed at you”, he replied.

“Forty five years, what do you mean?”

“I mean, three life sentences to run consecutively, to serve no less than forty five years in total.”

“Can he do that?”

“Well he just did. But you, what are you going to tell the judge, he wants to know why you weren’t in court, and he wants to know by five or he’ll”.

“He’ll what?” Josephine interrupted. “Maybe he hasn’t realised that I’m not the barrister. Anyhow I’ll get to him later. Do you know which prison they have taken him to?”

“No one told me,” Errol replied.

“And you didn’t bother to ask?” Josephine knew he didn’t. To this day she wondered how Errol had passed his finals. Thick as two short planks, sprang to mind. “I’m on my way back to the office, if you get there before me can you start making some calls?.”

“About what?”

“What do you think, to find out where the judge lives.” Josephine replied.

The silence on the other end of the line told her that Errol did not get it. “Hello, which prison?”

“Oh, sure.” He hung up.

Josephine was a partner in the firm Richards, Rogers and Riley-RR&R. She had worked as a social worker for ten years, and then decided she wanted out. Not for any other reason than she was tired of defending social workers and social work practice. Then the Jasmine Beckford case was the last straw. “Incompetent social workers allow five year old girl to die at the hands of her parents”, read the headlines, the day she walked in to her office in Willesden, and handed in her notice. Well not actually giving notice, she had four weeks annual leave due, so she left on the spot.

She took a career break and had Naomi, then when she was two Josephine decided to study law. It took two years to qualify, given her past experience and qualifications, and after working as a trainee for two years, she worked in Wills & Probate for a further two years in a firm that was owned by a friend of her fathers. For Josephine that was an experience of working with and for the dead, so with her husbands nagging, she took up an offer of setting up her own firm with Robin, and Gaynor, friends from university, but after ten years criminal law was beginning to get to her. It was always her intention to pursue a career in medical negligence, but when the firm was set up no one wanted to practice criminal law, but they all recognised that it was a must for any new law firm based in the high street of an inner city area. Although technically speaking Kilburn was not an inner city area, nonetheless they drew straws, and hers was the short one.

Ten years practicing criminal law, and she’d had enough. Her husband Steve on the other hand was happy. He was very happy with his life and that of his wife’s. He enjoyed telling people that he was a theatre director and his wife was a solicitor. He thought that the two careers complemented each other.

She arrived back at the office at twelve, “half the days gone, ‘she thought.

“I hear you didn’t make it to court” Robin commented.

“Long story”, she said to Robin as she rushed past him in the corridor heading for her office.

“Yeah , Errol said you were caught in traffic, or something.”

“Something like that. Where is he anyway?”

“Gone to the library to prepare for his case? Robin replied.

“What case?”

(Pages 1 & 2 on Pride Prejudice and Riots Post)

Please, please let me have some comments !