It’s 20 years since the innocent Brazilian man was shot dead at Stockwell station after being mistaken for a terrorist in the aftermath of the 7/7 London bombings. A few days later, I found myself standing beside his friend at a vigil
On 7 July 2005, I was a bright-eyed 24-year-old working for the Association of University Teachers, based just off Tavistock Square in central London. I spent my days working on equal pay campaigns for the higher education trade union and my weekends dancing with friends at drum’n’bass clubs. That morning, I caught the bus to work earlier than usual, getting off opposite the location where, one hour later, Leeds-born Hasib Hussain detonated a bomb that killed 13 people.
By the time we heard the explosion, tension had already gripped our offices. Three bombs had exploded on the London transport network, including one between King’s Cross and Russell Square station, which was minutes from where we were. The office was quiet, with fewer than half our colleagues present and, with mobile networks down, it took hours to learn who was safe. We were held in our building all day by the police, anxiously following news reports and trying to get hold of loved ones. The atmosphere was tense as we waited, not knowing what would happen next. Around 6pm, we were finally let out and, with public transport suspended, I joined thousands of others walking home. There was a surreal and quiet calm as we crossed Waterloo Bridge, with no cars or buses, just thousands of people, hushed and altered, trying to process what had happened.
