I had been up in Nottingham over the weekend, so I was late to hear the news. My cousins, who were staying over, were telling me that shops in Stratford had been raided.
Raided? What did they mean raided? Didn't they mean robbed?
And then I went onto the BBC website and saw the news and felt my heart sink to new lows and my stomach trembled violently as I watched parts of my beloved hometown disappear in smoke and anger and destruction. The realization hit and I was winded by it. The chaos was spreading throughout England, mainly by broadcasts over Blackberry messenger, and my facebook timeline showed a range of emotions, spanning to fury, fear, disappointment and attempts at strengthening humour by others.
I pray for strength for the police forces, doing their best to hold back the roaring mobs.
I pray for comfort for the business owners who will have to face the devastation this morning.
I pray for calm for those whose hearts and pockets felt empty and restless enough to take advantage of a sad situation.
And I pray that London will remember itself, recapture itself and somehow manage to rise from the ashes, so that when it hears this song, its depths feel pride in knowing that these words are still true.
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