Jamaica has buried two more police officers — not just in the ground, but in public silence and institutional ambivalence.
They were off duty, but still targeted. Still hunted. Still executed.
And now the country reels, pretending this is shocking, when in fact, it is the logical result of a system that has bent so far backward to accommodate criminals that it has snapped.
The True Cost of Cowardice
The men who pulled the triggers did not fear reprisal. In many ways, they feared the police less than the police feared the system that governs them. Because in this country, a badge no longer guarantees justice. It guarantees scrutiny.
Imagine being trained to defend citizens, but knowing that defending yourself might land you under investigation, or worse, behind bars — not for failure, but for success. Because in Jamaica, if you survive an armed confrontation as an officer, you may be condemned more harshly than the criminal you neutralized.
The death of these officers is not just a tragedy. It is a collapse. A moral and operational failure of the system designed to protect those who protect us.
Human Rights, Misapplied
When did we decide that the rights of armed killers outweigh the rights of the communities they terrorize? When did we crown every gang member a victim and make every officer a suspect?
This isn’t human rights. It’s human wrongs, cloaked in rhetoric.
Indecom and JFJ operate like watchdogs with one eye shut. The issue isn’t that they exist — oversight is necessary. The issue is that they’ve been hijacked by ideology, drifting so far from balance that they now function as an obstacle to public safety.
Their press releases never mourn officers. Their outrage never swings both ways. Their definitions of “justice” seldom include the slain policeman, the raped girl, the extorted vendor.
They have built reputations on highlighting fatal encounters with police — but where is the accountability for those who provoke them?
Gangs, Power, and Perception
The danger of criminality in Jamaica is not just physical, it is psychological.
When government infrastructure projects in gang-controlled zones hand employment first to “community leaders” and their affiliates, what signal does that send to the youth? That legitimacy is a lie? That violence is currency?
A young man watching gangsters benefit from public contracts, while his clean police record earns him unemployment, will draw the correct conclusion: crime pays — and society pays it.
This is not hypothetical. It is visible in the trench work crews, the party flyers, the funerals of “area dons” attended by politicians under the guise of “respecting the community.”
Fix the Lens, Not Just the Law
The narrative must shift. Police officers are not perfect — but they are not public enemy number one. That distinction belongs to the men who walk with illegal firearms, control neighborhoods, and kill with impunity.
If the watchdogs in civil society are serious about justice, they must start acknowledging all victims, including the ones in uniform. If they are committed to fairness, then fairness must apply to the facts — not just the optics.
This is not a call for unchecked policing. It’s a call for balance. A call for a society where justice does not mean turning a blind eye to who fired first, who carried what, and who left behind a trail of fear and bodies.
The Battle Ahead
We are not dealing with misguided youth. We are dealing with a criminal culture emboldened by a weak system and weaponized by narrative warfare. And every time we distort the truth about what police face on the streets, we embolden that culture.
It’s time to stop making excuses for the men who carry guns they didn’t register, bullets they didn’t buy legally, and blood on their hands they never intend to wash off.
The officers who died on Waltham Park Road are not just victims. They are symbols of what happens when enforcement becomes the accused, and lawlessness the protected class.
Jamaica cannot afford to bury another cop and offer flowers to the killer’s rights.
There is no middle ground anymore. Only a line — between those who believe in order, and those who exploit our fear of confronting what true justice demands.
