By Klao Bell, Staff Reporter 
LAST WEEK I came to an understanding of three stark realities.
One: There are really guns and terrorists in Jamaica.
Two: What it means to be frightened out of one's wits.
Three: There is a real threat to law and order and the safety and security of the state.
While covering an assignment on Mountain View Avenue, a gang of what I estimate to be about 30 young men ran past me. They were all carrying what I figured were M-16, AK-47 and other "big, long, guns".
Thankfully I wasn't hurt. Maybe because I left the scene quickly. But also, I think I wasn't hurt because they were clearly on a mission and somewhat oblivious to my presence.
In reflecting on the incident I couldn't help but feel overwhelming sympathy and concern for these young men who looked to be in their teens and early 20s.
What are they doing with these weapons, I wonder. They seem like robots, with someone controlling them. These fellows don't even have a worthwhile cause -- do they even know what they are fighting for?
Some say they simply just have too much testosterone and no outlet, others say unemployment has forced them into a life of gun terrorism. I say we all choose our paths, and this, for many of them, is the option they've selected.
But their selection has clearly been influenced by mentors or generals and captains, if you will.
While they trotted across the road, a mature, ordinary looking man with locks shouted orders: "Hold the rifles to the side. Hold the rifles to the left. Hold the rifles to the right."
I couldn't help but remember stories of the Hot Steppers of Wareika Hills and how well trained they were. I wondered if this unassuming looking man (the one with locks), who I might have passed on the corner and hailed up many times, represents one of the remaining Steppers'.
I also pondered the level of influence this man may have on these young fellows and whether he was a real Rastafarian. He may be an old-school Rastafarian who still has strong anti-Babylon (police) sentiments. If so, it may be one of the reasons why police are being mercilessly targeted and slaughtered on our streets.
Whatever his role, I wondered what the Rastafarian elders and brethren across the country would say about his association with a pack of gun-toting youth.
I've long believed that the wars being fought on the streets of Kingston are a battle between one set of poor black boys in uniform and another set of poor black boys without uniforms. In any case, the war wages on and black boys on both sides of the fence are being killed. Many die still unsure of the cause for which they do battle.
It's sad, but since the incident I second guess every young man of a certain profile. Last week, I drove up to the gas station and as the serious, slender fellow pumped gas into the car I checked him out, wondering who he was, where he was from and what he did at nights and on his days off. I wondered if he went back to his community and terrorise old women with his big gun.
On the television news we often watch as police trade bullets with unseen targets. Some people doubt the existence (of the unseen targets). I don't. Not anymore.
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