My fight for Justice – By @oliverdfinel

By Oliver Finel


My fight for Justice


Growing up, I was hellbent on fighting injustice. When one of my classmates would be the victim of unfair treatment, I would fight tooth and nail for them. Wherever it showed its ugly face, there I would stand, ready to dig injustice an early grave. 


This combative spirit stayed with me in my later years. At university, I became a leader for change. I forced institutions to change policies, my fellow classmates and I, deemed abusive or unfair. When the Supreme Court tried to silence me? I convinced the best lawyers in the country to defend me… pro bono. 


Was it hard? Sure. 

Did it lead me to lose friends? Absolutely. 

Were all my battles worth fighting? That’s not for me to decide. 

Do I regret any of it? Hell no. 


You see… If a man is not driven to make the world a better place, he is no man at all. At least in my book. Everywhere we look, someone is suffering some kind of injustice at the hands of a plethora of various oppressors. It is our duty, as human beings, to set the record straight and banish these oppressors to eternal damnation. 


My defaces-long fight in the name of justice has led me to witness the worst humanity has to offer. The horrors that have been etched into my mind I couldn’t dare share —even with the vilest soul. 


I thought I had seen the worst of the worst. Two days ago… I was proven wrong. The events that unfolded were of such an appalling nature that I find myself shaking, tears pouring down my eyes, as I type these words. 


On Tuesday 20th of January 2020, I was enjoying a nice stroll in the streets of Brixton. Moments before, my stomach started hurling at me. I begged my friends to leave school and join me for a quick lunch in the neighbourhood’s most famed sushi spot. They agreed. We left St. Matthews Church still blind to the horrors that were about to transpire. 


I lit a cigarette after exiting the grounds of St. Matthews Park. We crossed the road. Walked through Brixton Plaza. Stared at the sign atop the Ritzy Cinema. Took a sharp turn on Colharbour Lane and kept walking. At this point, my cigarette was fully consumed. I chucked it to ground innocently. 


Seconds later, a lady stops me. She shows me a sign resembling a police badge. She was obviously not a policewoman so I thought the sign was simply some clever trick to grab my attention. I believed she was about to tell me about the Red Cross, Animal Welfare or perhaps warn me about the tragic fate of Estonian retirees. Believe when I say, I was shocked beyond belief when she uttered her next sentence. 


She told me, in no uncertain words, that she saw me throw a cigarette on the floor and ‘walk away’. What could I say, I had committed the offence. I complied to her demands. Handed her my I.D. Waited for her to enter my information into her handled device and print the fine on the spot. Up to this point, everything seemed fair. 


Until she presented me with a £100 fine. 


My jaw dropped. 

My heart briefly stopped. 

My blood started boiling. 


The offence has been established. There was nothing I could do at that every moment. 


I left… Angry… Disappointed… but with the strongest sense of resolve to avenge the unfair amount I had been fined. 


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