PART 2: They may try to silence you, but I will be your voice.

PART 2:

My sister’s story: “The hidden, untold silence of my story and the murder of my son - Noah”.

They may try to silence you, but I will be your voice.

It has been almost three months since Noah’s murder trial came to an end, but certain things in my head are still bothering me and constantly affecting me and my family, even now, months after going through the most horrific thing anyone can possible dream of.  It’s not only the trauma of losing someone in the circumstances we lost Noah, but it’s the way me and my family have been treated that again is not picked up on by the media, nor is it advocated by anyone on behalf of us, and it just makes me so angry that discrimination and “racism” still exists in this day and age. So I thought I would write another blog in a diary entry format to get my thoughts out onto paper and share what we have been through rather than bottling it all up inside.

21^st November 2015; As you all must of read in my previous blog, after speaking to my sister for the very last time on the night of the 21^st and telling her to call the ambulance, I had no more replies from her and was unable to get into contact with her. I still remember the entire day like it was just yesterday. Me, my mum, my brother continuously rang her phone again and again.  We left so many messages but there was no contact and no reply. After not being able to get through to her, I decided to head down to her house in Luton with my brother. I reached Luton at approximately 9/9.30pm, oblivious to the severity of what had actually happened with Noah and my sister. We were under the impression that perhaps she was busy with Noah in hospital and that her phone battery must have died which is why we couldn’t get hold of her. Little did I know what I was waiting to encounter next. As I turned into Crawley road (the road where she lived), I had a sick feeling in my stomach. This was the first time ever I was visiting her new flat since she had moved there 6 weeks prior. I saw blue lights at the bottom of the road just flashing. As I got closer and closer to where the navigation system was guiding me, I realised that the flashing blue lights of the police car was actually located outside my sister’s ground floor flat. A police officer was sitting in the car outside the flat and the flat was sealed with police tape, like something from a crime scene you would usually see on television. Even at that moment, I had no idea that Noah was dead.  I remember telling my 18 year old brother to stay in the car whilst I went and found out what was going on. I kept asking the police officer where my sister and nephew were. He wouldn’t tell me anything. It was a blistering cold evening that day. I insisted on not leaving until I found out where they both were. The front door of the flat was still open, but I could not enter beyond the front gate as the flat was taped up with police tape. Little did I know that this was the last time Noah was rushed out of the flat by the ambulance paramedics that very same previous night. The police officer on sight informed me that he could not discuss anything with me as he is simply there to guard and patrol the flat from anyone entering. After minutes of me explaining that I will not leave till I get answers regarding where my sister and Noah were, the officer finally agreed to calling another police officer to come and explain to me what had happen. Even at this stage I did not know Noah was dead. Whilst waiting for this second officer to come and see me, a kind neighbour near my sister’s flat offered to take me into her house and offered me tea and biscuits. She knew that my world was going to come to an end once the police would have arrived. I was waiting and waiting. The more I was waiting, the more nervous I was getting. After an hour and half of waiting, the police officer finally arrived. He greeted me on the road outside my sisters flat, and referred to himself as a senior detective officer. Even at this point, I wasn’t expecting to hear what I was told next. I kept asking him where is my sister, where is Noah, I need to see them. Then, on the middle of the road on that cold night at approximately 10.30/11pm in front of the neighbours the officer simply dropped it on me that “oh, you didn’t know, that Noah has been murdered and he is dead?”. My heart sunk. My brother and I just looked at each other with shock and disbelief. My hands were shaking and my mind was just gone blank. After the news of Noah had been broken to me so insensitively and in a complete non-compassionate manner, the officer informed me to get in the car and follow him to the local police station to give a statement. I have never been involved with the police in my life so I knew nothing about law and my legal rights at that point in time. Neither was I informed of my rights regarding having the opportunity to say “I do not wish to give a statement if my solicitor is not present”. I naively followed the officer in my car to the police station to tell him of my last conversation with my sister. My hands were shaking with disbelief and I carried on following the officer in his car. He took my statement for about an hour and a half whilst my 18 year old brother sat in the car outside. By the time he finished taking my statement, it was almost midnight. I still remember whilst driving back to London from Luton that late at night me and my brother were sick to our stomachs and terrified of how we was going to break the news to my mum. But we did. It is by far one of the hardest things I have done in my life. The whole night, we did not sleep. My mum and brother were ordered to come back to Luton the following day to give their statements, and I drove them down.

On the same day, out of courtesy, we went and offered our condolences to the biological father and his family’s house. Only when we reached there, we had realised that they had already been informed of the terrible news in person at their house by officers. They used my sister’s mobile that they had ceased from her after arresting her to contact the biological father and his family (i.e. grandparents, aunts etc.) and informed them of what had happened, but did not do the same for us. As much as they were Noah’s grandparents, uncles, and aunts, my parents were also Noah’s grandparents, and I and my brother too were Noah’s uncle and aunt, and so we too had the right to be informed in the same manner, but of course they did not. Over the course of time, after speaking to my sister, she informed me of how she had begged them to use her phone to contact her family members and inform us of what had happened. Can you imagine your son dying in front of your eyes, and then being arrested with the accusation of his murder, and all your asking for from them is one phone call to your family? But the question is, did they? – NO. Why the differentiation? Me, my mum, my dad or my brother were not on trial, nor were we the suspects in question, so why treat us differently? Why was we not informed of Noah’s death in the same way as the other side of Noah’s family? Why was my sister’s right to be given a chance to call a family member dismissed? Why did it have to take me to come all the way down to Luton to be told that Noah has been murdered? Why was me and my brother informed of Noah’s death on the middle of the road as if it meant nothing, and treated like we had no feelings or emotions whilst the other family was informed personally at their home?

And, the discrimination didn’t stop there. In any murder case, the bereaving families are offered family liaison officers to support them and keep them informed of any questions they may have. The role of a family liaison officer is to provide a two-way communication between families who have lost someone through them being murdered and crime detective officers. They help support the family through the police investigation, answer questions and gather important information about the person who has died. This was something that both sides of Noah’s family needed throughout this whole murder ordeal. But was my family offered a family liaison officer? –NO. The other side of Noah’s family; his father, grandparents, aunts were offered two family liaison officers to help them and support them through this entire ordeal. We were dismissed from having even a single family liaison officer. When we questioned them why, we were given the ridiculous explanation that due to pressures with financial resources, they needed to prioritise who they allocated the family liaison officers to and yet again, we were dismissed from being allocated with a family liaison officer during these difficult times. Despite members from both sides of Noah’s family being crucial CPS witnesses (i.e. giving evidence in court in support of the police), both families were treated very differently. All the privileges of support were given to them, yet my family were left to pick up the pieces alone.  Why was the other family prioritised with TWO family liaison officers but my family weren’t even given one? Was my family not in an equally grieving state as the Noah’s other side of the family? Again, even though we were not the ones on trial, we were being treated in a discriminatory manner and were left to suffer alone. We would be informed updates about the murder case through hearsay and in drips and drabs, whilst the other family were privileged with family liaison officers visiting them regularly at their home and keeping them updated every few days. Why the differentiation?

More so, both sides of Noah’s family (his Dad’s family, and my family) were CPS witnesses. This meant that all of us were giving evidence in support of the police in order to get justice for Noah. But were we treated equally throughout the trial? –NO. Each day at court was physically and mentally draining. Listening to what that monster put Noah through, the medical reports, the post-mortem, what he put my sister through was mentally sickening. Their family were given debriefing opportunities in court via their family liaison officers. They were assigned with a specific room in court were they were offered support, refreshments, and could talk to their family liaison officers, ask them questions they were unsure of and have a place/room to get away from listening to the bitter truth of what Noah was put through by HARDEEP HUNJAN. Was we offered this facility? –NO. Yet again, we were left to suffer alone, answer our own questions, and be each other’s support. Why the differentiation? We were all their providing support to the police in order to get full justice for Noah, so why treat my family as if we don’t have emotions or feelings? Is it because we are Asian?

On top of this, we would also be treated completely differently to the other family even inside the court room. It's as if me and my family were not allowed to grieve. I still remember on this one particular day, something very, very personal and traumatic that had happened to me and my sister when we was younger was mentioned in court by the psychiatrist.  Can you imagine your whole life being exposed in a court room? This particular thing that they were discussing was very, sensitive and personal. When we heard the first mention of it in court, me and my sister looked at each other through the glass dock and burst out crying. My uncle was sitting beside me who gave me a hug as all of the information was being unravelled in front of the entire court room. When we returned from break in the afternoon, do you know what I was told in front of the whole court room? That if I cannot handle my emotions, then I should leave the court room because I am trying to wrongly get the jurors attention. Can you imagine? The issue that was bought up in court was something that me and my sister never ever told anyone, and to have it broadcasted years later in front of everyone would you not have some sort of emotions? That day I went home from court so sick to my stomach, so angry and frustrated with what we was being made to go through. I felt completely humiliated. Whenever the other family cried due to what they were hearing in court, or made sarcastic comments, they were given reassurance through their family liaison officers sitting beside them. The one time I showed any sort of emotion in court, I was told to leave the room if I was unable to handle my emotions? I know I sound as if I am just going on and on, but is this normal? Because all these things still play on my mind, why was my family treated like this? 

24^th November 2015: three days after Noah had died, both sides of Noah’s family (my family and Noah’s father’s family) were given the opportunity to visit Noah’s body one last time before they carried out the post-mortem. When we (both families) went to see Noah’s body in hospital, we had all taken so many things. Things that Noah loved, like teddy bears, balloons and clothes for him to be dressed in while he lay in that cold morgue for the following next 6 months. I still remember how he looked. He looked like a porcelain angel, just lying there on the bed with his eyes closed, like an angel just sleeping. After visiting Noah’s intact body for the last time ever, both families at the same time together were informed by the police that they will be providing both families two separate packs with Noah’s footprints, handprints and a lock of his hair has a sentimental memory of him. Was this carried out in the same manner for both families?-NO. The other side of Noah’s family received these items within weeks. It was hand-delivered to them by their allocated family liaison officers. Our pack was not given to us until we had realised the other family had already received theirs weeks ago, after which we got in touch with the police and demanded for our pack as entitled to. Why the discrimination towards my family again? Are we not equally grieving families? Why put us through more misery than what we already going through?

27^th May 2016: The day of Noah’s funeral. Noah’s body was not given back to us for almost 6 months. By this time, his body was so cut open it was unrecognisable. Again, the other family were given full updates through their family liaison officers regarding the release of Noah’s body and were given support in terms of mentally preparing them for how bad the body will be looking for the day of the funeral. Was the same support provided to us? –No. In fact, they behaved insensitively not only towards us on the outside, but also towards my sister in prison. My sister was remanded into prison from the night Noah had passed away. She was not allowed to attend Noah’s funeral. When a person is on remand, they are INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. My sister made an application to go and visit Noah one last time before his funeral day at the funeral parlour as she was not allowed to attend the actual funeral. She made this application through the prison services which had to be accepted by the police if it were to go ahead. The application was accepted and she was due to visit her son for the last time ever at the funeral parlour two days before the actual day of the funeral. Bearing in mind, in order to make this possible, she would have had to be escorted to the funeral parlour by CID officers and kept in handcuffs at all time. Another restriction to this application was that her family members (as in me, my mum or my brother) were not allowed to be present at the same time with her as we were CPS witnesses. She was to simply go in, see her son briefly, say her goodbyes, and then be escorted back to prison. As hard as this was going to be for her without any family being their beside her, to hug her, to wipe her tears at the horrific site of seeing her unrecognisable dead son who was cut open from all places of the body you can virtually think of, my brave sister still agreed. Through hours and hours of talking to my sister over the phone in prison, me and my mum prepared her to deal with saying goodbye to her son. She had even knitted a teddy bear to put beside Noah, and a little letter she had written to him to put in his coffin.  When the following day finally arrived, my sister rang me and my mum in the morning and told us how she couldn’t sleep at night because she was counting down the hours to go and see her son today. Little did she know that the police had rejected the application on that very same morning. That very same day, the police had listened to the prison phone call records that took place between my mum and my sister over the previous days, and gathered the impression that “apparently” my mum was found to be conversing with my sister in a way that hinted to the police that she was planning to make my sister run away whilst travelling down to see her dead son. How sickening? They couldn’t put a stop to it any other way so they made up this pathetic accusation that now my sister was a “flight risk” because of my mum, despite her being handcuffed at all times and being escorted by several CID officers. After this, they overturned my sister’s application to see her son based on this pathetic reasoning. How can you deny a mother of her right to say goodbye to her son who was murdered whilst being INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY (for which she was subsequently proven to be innocent of his murder). My sister never got to see her son, nor attend his funeral.

October 2016: More recently, since the entire trial has finished, something even more sickening has happened. Two/three weeks ago, HARDEEP HUNJAN sent my sister a 14 page double sided letter in prison. In the letter he is still trying to control her, manipulate her, and make her come back to his viscous behaviour of battered women's syndrome. In the letter he is blatantly and openly discussing the entire case, telling my sister off for going up on the stand and telling the truth and putting him on the spot light. What else was she meant to do? Go up on the stand and lie and not get her son justice? Or go down for something she has nothing to do with? He's even gone to the extent of mentioning in the letter how sad he is that she will be out soon but that he will never come out again and see his family. So what? What about the life of my innocent nephew that you took away with your filthy blood full hands for no reason? Why are they doing this to us? After hearing about all the mental and physical abuse that he put my sister through, why are the police and prison services allowing such letters to go through? When someone is in prison, letters that go in and out from prisoners get read and scanned before being delivered, so why would they allow such a disgusting letter that is marked by utter control of him over my sister to still go through? The man is a psychopath. In the letter he also wrote that the entire case regarding Noah is apparently a "fix" to get him trapped, and that everyone involved in the case were all in on getting him convicted wrongfully, including the medical professionals that came in to explain the injures that he had given to Noah. But there was blatant evidence to show who had done it? And what I don't understand is why, why did they allow this letter to get through to my sister when she is already in there in a vulnerable state? Are they purposely trying to make my sisters mental state worse? It's taken my sister so long to break away from this evil man, so why allow this to go through when you no it's going to mess with her mind? In my next blog, I will share a copy of that vile letter he sent to my sister once I get hold of it.

31^st October 2016: So now, it has been almost three months since the entire murder trial has ended. The appeal date has passed. Now I am applying to get back all of Noah’s and my sister’s things that the police had ceased from the flat last year and kept as evidence. Trial is over, appeal date has passed, which means everything ceased from the property can be returned to the owner, i.e. my sister. But yet again, we are faced with more discrimination. The tenancy of the flat that my sister lived at was in her sole name. This means, lawfully, anything that was taken from that flat is rightfully hers. Its common-sense. My sister from prison, as well as me and my mum on the outside have been writing letters back and forth to the police claiming to get a list of every single item that was ceased from her flat and kept for evidence purposes. What did the police do? Refused to provide us with a list, and even worse, went and gave ceased items of Noah’s belongings that rightfully belonged to my sister as they were ceased from HER flat to the other family. What’s even worse is that the other family were given these items from my sister’s flat personally, hand-delivered, at their own home by their family liaison officers in a sensitive and dignified manner. We were also given back some of the ceased items on behalf of Noah and my sister today, but in a very insensitive and opposite manner to the other family. Today, me and my family had to go and collect my murdered nephew’s belongings (his buggy, his toys, the last clothes he worse on the night he was murdered) from the police station. The other grieving family were visited personally and given items back in a dignified manner by their allocated family liaison officers. Do you know how we got our things delivered? In the car park of a police station!. We was made to go to a police station that’s about an hour away from where we live, and then we was made to stand there whilst the detective officer ticked off everything from  the list one by one and transferred the things from their car to mine. No empathy, no compassion, and more so, returned back our ceased items in the most non-dignifying way possible. Given how much of an emotional day it was for me, my mum and my brother in being returned back the belongings of my murdered nephew, alongside the sensitivity of the case, should we not have also been treated with a little more dignity like the other family? Why the discrimination yet again? Am I going crazy? Or is this blatant racism?............................................