Sixty-seven minutes elapsed between the time Henry Nowak was stabbed by Vickrum Digwa and his death, on December 3 last year, in Southampton, England.
Sixty-seven minutes when his life could have been saved were it not for the incompetence and institutional corruption of the British police and the clannishness and cunning of an Indian Sikh family who knew just how to exploit those weaknesses to paint themselves, fatally, as the victims.
By claiming the stabbing was really a racist attack against the stabber himself, the entire Digwa family ensured Henry Nowak would die.
Instead of taking the victim’s anguished cries seriously as he lay bleeding to death—“I’ve been stabbed”: “I don’t think you have, mate” (an actual exchange)—the police dragged him across the ground like a sack of garbage, handcuffed him, and paid more attention to a mark on the killer’s face and a dislodged turban.
And then it was too late.
Henry Nowak’s murder is a tragedy for our age, an indictment of the sinister, hateful place Britain has become, to the shock and surprise not only of the British people themselves, many of whom are only just waking up to the chaos around them, but also the horror of admirers and well-wishers abroad—and that includes President Donald Trump and Vice President JD Vance.
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