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It has been a weird experience living in London during the riots. Whilst the scenes form Tottenham were shocking they felt somewhat remote for anyone outside that area. The day after I was barely aware of it but horrified to find out that it had all kicked off over a shooting.

It all became very real on the Monday when I was at home on a days holiday and found I was watching the street where I work awash with riot police and gangs of angry missile throwing youths. As in any time of disaster, my eyes were then glued to the TV. So glued in fact that I couldn’t see the fire billowing out on my own high street. The anger was spreading like a virus from a disaster movie.

I’ve lived in Peckham for 3 years now, and despite popular opinion, it’s not a massively dangerous place to live. You become desensitised to gang violence living in London, and 6 months ago when a kid got stabbed down the road from me it was awful, but somehow not a shock.

On the 8^th of August I watched live coverage of a road that is 3 minutes from my house being charged by riot police, kids smashing up shops and stealing clothes. They even robbed a pound shop. I had friends updating me from Clapham saying the shop they lived above was being smashed up, while I watched the action on the TV. I saw the whole thing as it was being reported and even though by the time I went to bed at 1.30am, I was numb, I still had this feeling of unreality. Like it was all a movie and that at end the troops would sweep in and clear away the troublemakers.  Roll credits.

The next day when I went to work and my high street was smashed up and burnt out it was all real.

What had happened? What had gone on in the collective consciousness for those three nights of London riot ? It was like a disease had spread somehow, zombies roaming streets where cars and bin were ablaze and frightened residents ran away with packed bags, as though the virus might get them too. These hooded zombie monsters were roaming in packs, tearing through windows and pulling out the guts of shops, sloping off with trainers and mobile phones, breaking up anything they couldn’t carry.

But those zombies are the youth of London. The Kaiser Chief’s predicted a riot. And they were right. The signs were there all along, we just didn’t believe it could happen here. On a daily basis in London, thuggish teenagers cause trouble. It’s not an unusual sight to see a smashed shop front in Peckham or Hackney; it’s just the sign of a lively weekend. This is why most shops on Rye Lane have metal shutters, prevention is better than a cure.

But it is the cure that eludes us. The kids are not all right, the kids are angry, the kids feel let down. What happened? What did the adults do to create these monsters? Or what was it that they didn’t do? The rioters were not only teenagers, I did see adult men and women looting too, but were they just joining in with what the youth had started? Taking advantage of the fact that the doors to Debenhams had been left open? There is something wrong when grown women are casually trying on sneakers and then just walking out with them. There is a culture of ‘Take Take’ out there, take from the government, take whatever benefits you can get, take whatever you can from a smashed up shop. Everybody else is doing it why shouldn’t I?

The riots were supposed to have started over the police shooting of one man. But three nights later, teenagers were telling reporters they were rioting because of their taxes. It was not political, it meant nothing. The kids were bored and saw an opportunity to have some fun. Adults were out stealing designer clothes.

If the adults say it’s ok, then what chance do the children have?

I had to come home from work early on Tuesday because Hackney was evacuating and boarding up its remaining windows. It was all across London, police standing guard, shop owners  boarding up and getting home before the zombies woke up again, and there was a real sense of fear in the air, like you needed to get home before dark or the vampires would be out. I won’t lie, I was afraid. All I could think about was that I needed to get on a bus and get out of Hackney before anything happened. I was haunted by scenes from the news the night before, thugs forcing people to strip so they could steal their clothes, beaten youths being robbed by passers-by, commuter packed buses being stormed and set alight by angry mobs.

But instead of violence there were brooms. In the most amazing show of community spirit, people were leaving their homes to meet in groups just so they could tidy up what the yobs had broken. 9th of August was about London reclaiming itself, an army of ordinary people armed with brooms and bin bags working together to clear away the burnt out bins and smashed glass. I felt a huge swell of pride for the people of London. Out of the ashes of three nights of chaos, the other face of London rose up and brandished cups of tea and cleaning equipment. That’s why London rocks.

Because even though there is the side of London that does not care, that wants to burn it all down, there is a also the side of London that wants to fix it all, make it clean and make it safe. The very British need to Keep Calm and Carry on, or as some Facebooker’s decided to do with their Tuesday night; Keep Calm and Drink Tea. London has been destroyed so many many times, by mistake, on purpose, by fire, by bombs and by riots. But London has always stood up and dusted itself off afterwards. London has many scars from the riots, many buildings will have to be torn down, shop fronts will have to be replaced, people who were on buses when they were torched will have nightmares and shop owners who were attacked will live in fear for some time.

But this is London and it has recovered from much worse. I have every faith in its ability to carry on just as it has done before. But what do we do to cure the disease that is sweeping through the boroughs? How do we cure the youth of their malaise?

Or is it too late?