It is the spring of 2076. Britain is emerging from a long, cold winter, where the nation was eternally grateful that we had enough nuclear energy to keep the lights on and our houses warm during the bitter arctic chill that had seemed to last forever.
As our parks and woods began to thaw, and the crocuses showed their first signs of life, the media spoke of a seventy-year-old man who had been imprisoned since he was a teenager, who was to face his first Parole Board hearing.
The board were to be told how this frail and very poorly man had only weeks to live, his wizen body riddled with incurable cancer.
His sight was failing, he could barely hear, he was doubly incontinent as a consequence of the Alzheimer’s that had robbed him of any meaningful thought, and his lawyer was to make the case that now was the time for mercy to be shown to this prisoner, so that he could live out his final days in a hospice, a far more suitable environment he was to argue, for a man with no chance of survival, than the rather basic medical wing of the prison in which he had been held for the past 52 years.
Axel Rudakabana was sentenced to 52 years in jail last week for his evil crimes.
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Letters in support of this prisoner had been submitted by ‘The Collective of Conscious Liberals’, and ‘Mercy for Murderers’, two organisations whose membership and relevance were both shrinking, and whom the Government were considering banning.
The hearing was to be held in private at an undisclosed location. Two members of the panel were not even born when this man had committed his atrocious and terrifying killing spree all those decades before, so they had to rely upon very dated records and reports submitted by doctors and other specialists, as well as more recent assessments of this brute, and victim impact statements that remained as moving and profound as they did on the days that they were written.
All of this was supported by media reports that had accurately tapped into the horror and revulsion felt by every decent human being at the time of his abominable crimes.
The media had, during the decades that had passed between this man’s wicked rampage that claimed so many young lives and ruined countless others, done a very commendable job of frequently reminding the public of the murderer’s name and his crimes, in order that his wickedness did not fade away into the pages of history books, but rather that it remained a name that those who were too young or not even alive at the time of his revolting, murderous spree, would become familiar with and never forget, for generations of editors had realised that one day such a parole board hearing may happen.
The Southport murderer must never be granted his freedom.
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Two weeks later the nation heaved a sigh of relief when it was announced that this man had not been granted his freedom. It was now inevitable that he would die in prison, and that his remains would be quietly disposed of. Believers of heaven and hell prayed for eternal damnation.
All of the above is, of course, a work of fiction, inspired by the recent horrors we have all heard so much about. But I have written it with the most serious intent, and in the hope that whilst it may seem distasteful and regrettable to have to say this, there is now an obligation upon us all to hand down the name of Axel Rudakubana to future generations, just in case this repugnant, child-killing sadist makes it to the age of 70. Let’s hope not.
Rest in peace Dear Alice, Bebe, and Elsie Dot. Unending love and best wishes to everyone else affected by the appalling events of 29th July 2024.