Part One of an ongoing public education series on protecting Jamaica’s children
There are some stories you finish reading that never really leave. This week, for me, it was in Troy, Trelawny. A story about a little girl named Shani Coke—ten years old. She was bright, beloved and full of promise.
Known as “Kaidra” to the people who loved her.
Like so many Jamaicans, I have not been able to stop thinking about her. The way her story ended has become painfully familiar, and that should frighten every one of us. That reality has already impacted the outcome. The details of what happened are heartbreaking, and the public response has been equally unsettling. A man widely believed by members of the community to be responsible for her rape and murder was later killed by residents who had little faith he would ever face meaningful justice through the courts.
That should disturb every one of us.
Not because people are angry—Anger is understandable, but because many Jamaicans now believe the only justice available is the one they deliver themselves.
That is not the mark of a healthy society. It is a warning, and we should be very concerned.
Remember Ananda Alert? For decades we have treated stories like these as isolated tragedies. We mourn. We demand justice. We hold candlelight vigils and watch it on the news for a week, then we move on. In a few months, another child is taken, and the cycle begins again.
This cannot continue.
As both a journalist of more than two decades and a mental health advocate for over ten years, I have come to believe these crimes do not begin with one predator. They are nurtured inside a culture that too often excuses, minimises or refuses to confront sexual violence until it is too late.
If we want different headlines, we need different conversations.
That is why this story marks the beginning of an ongoing public education series. Over the next several weeks, we will move beyond grief and look at practical ways families, communities and institutions can better protect Jamaica’s children.
We will examine the language we use. The myths we pass down. The warning signs we overlook. The boundaries we fail to teach and the policies we continue to postpone.
These are difficult and necessary conversations, because every child deserves to grow up knowing the adults around them will protect them from harm, and every adult shares the responsibility of making sure that is true.
Today I invite you to sit with one question before we move into the rest of the series.
If another child dies next month, and nothing changes between now and then, what part of our silence helped to make that possible?
Next story, we begin with something many people dismiss as harmless—Language, because the words we choose shape the culture we create. I invite you to read, reflect and share your thoughts. You may share them at team@writesandkulcha.com.
This conversation belongs to all of us.
Tameka A. Coley is the Founding Editor and Creative Director of Writes and Kulcha.