Owain Richards and Helen Harper are the police commanders for Central West (London) which covers Westminster, Hammersmith & Fulham, and Kensington & Chelsea. Both face life in prison under the Criminal Justice Act of 1988. According to the provisions of the act, a public official – such as a member of the police – who commits the offence of psychological torture, shall be liable to a life term custodial prison sentence.

This week I had one of the roughest and most painful days I’ve experienced since my illegal torture at the hands of the Met Police began at least 13 years ago.

It began peacefully enough. I was sitting outside a Cafe Nero on Lillie Road, Earls Court. I wouldn’t say I was ‘chilling’. I had been back in London for 2 weeks, finally able to visit my elderly mother who had just recovered from a bout of cancer, for the first time in 10 months. I was starting to feel a little unsettled after realizing during the course of my two weeks back in London, that the Met Police were still pointing me out to security guards and even non-security staff. However, aside from my experience in Marks & Spencers High Street Ken, those security guards had appeared to be acting a little restrained and circumspect. Unlike the previous 13 years in 15 different countries, they had apparently been told to stop sadistically craning their neck to look past me, laugh, point me out to non security staff before my very eyes etc. Or so I dared to hope.

As I sat drinking my tea outside Cafe Nero, an attractive young lady stood on the street in front of me, looking at her phone. A police van went past along Lillie Road, and as it did so the male driver and another pig sitting behind him visibly leered at the young woman, who could have been no more than 18 or 19. Luckily, the girl appeared not to see them leering at her. The other two male pigs in the van did not see the woman, or presumably they would have leered too, all four psychopaths likely harbouring the same fantasies of raping and murdering the young woman as their colleague Wayne Couzens did earlier this year.

In the afternoon I walked past Earls Cout tube station. I saw an overweight bald male police officer with a female colleage talking to a homeless couple. I decided to stand watching them for a while, with half-a-mind to take my phone out and record them, but I didn’t. After a minute or so, with the police officer apparently not having noticed me standing there, a pretty girl walked past them on her way to the tube station, who must have been certainly no more than 14 or 15. As she did so, the fat pig turned his head and briefly, but visibly leered at her butt. He then noticed me standing there. His face contorted into rage, and immediately made a theatrical gesture of looking at his watch, before resuming talking to the junkies. Unfortunately, I did not make a note of his identification number, although I’ll certainly recognize him next time I see him and will definiately record it and publish it here.

Later in the afternoon I went into the Waitrose store at the junction of Fulham Road and Fulham North End Road. I had made a complaint about their TSS security staff there recently. It was at least replied to, with the customer care person saying that they ‘could not comment futher’, but that my complaint had been passed to the ‘relevant’ people. This was my 3rd or 4th visit since my return 2 weeks ago.

As stated above, it appears that the security guards had at least been told not to so clearly and sadistically torment me when they saw me. It seemed that the TSS security guards at the store were struggling a little with that request, their little peanut brains still trying to work out why ‘I don’t like them looking at me’.

Soon after I entered the store, I walked part of the way up the second aisle. The black Somali looking TSS Ricky Gardezi security guard moved to cover me and positioned himself looking up at this same aisle. I noticed there was a young woman, or rather a girl of maybe 16 or 17 wearing a pair of the skimpiest shorts that I have ever seen, which didn’t even cover her derriere. The Somali TSS security guard seemed to be very interested in this, as when I walked to another aisle, he appeared to think about following me, but then shuffled back to his spot, evidently deciding that staring at this young girl was even more of a turn on for him than sadistically gaslighting into suicide or complete insanity a mentally disabled member of the public.

Ten minutes later, I carried my shopping to the self-service check out till. I asked the overweight female line manager for a bag – and apparently a lesbian – was seemingly as excited and flustered by the young girl’s presence as the TSS security guard. Before she had even handed it to me she practically shouted at me – ‘you’re welcome!’, and resumed staring at the young girl’s exposed butt cheeks.

I then needed to go into Boots the Chemist in Fulham Broadway shopping center. This was the first time I had been in there since last year, when the TSS Total Security Services guard was intimidating me to the point of being unable to collect my prescriptions from my cancer stricken mother. The store manager is ‘Rabia Bennett‘, who I intend to refer a complaint about to the General Pharmaceutical Council (GPhC).

I had walked past that Boots a couple of times in the previous two weeks. I had noticed that a different TSS security guard was there. Perhaps my complaint had been acted upon, I had vainly hoped. Perhaps the old security guard was sacked, and I haven’t been pointed out to this new one, or at least he wouldn’t follow me around the store smirking while gaslighting me. Some hope.

He did exactly that.

I almost lost it. This was indeed the worst I’ve felt for over a decade. The realization that this has now gone on for almost one and a 1/2 decades, that all the things I’ve tried, from complaining to store managers, to contacting anti-torture charities, and now to publishing my experiences here and even pointing out that the police officers responsible ought to be going to prison for life under the Criminal Justice Act of 1988 – nothing, nothing at all, seems to change anything. I will continue to be pointed out to not only security staff, but cashiers and the like, in shops and other places across Europe for the rest of my life. It will never be admitted to me that this is happening and it will be denied implicitly or explicitly as it has been for the last 13 years. And it will never stop until this goes to court and some of the pigs at the top finally go to prison for the rest of their lives.

What Can I Do Now?

What are the options left open to me? What can I do in the next few months to retain a grip on sanity and the belief that I still do have options left open to me?

• I can finally send a letter to Greg Hands MP for Fulham and Chelsea.
• I can report the store manager for Boots at Fulham Broadway – Rabia Bennett – to the General Pharmaceutical Council.
• I can write a letter to the British ambassador to the country in which I reside in.
• I can seek help and advice from a non-governmental organization in the country in which I reside which provides legal advice for foreigners.

***Update – several days later I returned to the same Waitrose store at the junction of Fulham Road and Fulham North End Road. The security guard very aggressively glared at me with his hands folded for several seconds. I met his gaze, almost disbelievingly (after my experience the week before I had sent another complaint to Waitrose Customer Care). He continued to stare at me menacingly. I took my smartphone out of my pocket to quickly take a photo of him, and as I did so he moved his head to one side so he was looking past me, although he had the exact same intense look on his face as when he was staring at me for half-a-minute.

It occurs to me that the reader may be thinking that I’m one of these guys you see on YouTube who goes around pointing cameras at security guards in the name of ‘freedom of photography’ rights or some such, and inevitably get a reaction out of them. No. I’ve been pointed out for the last 13 years to not only thousands of security guards in 15 or so countries in Europe (everywhere I’ve travelled in the last 13 years), but also to thousands of cashiers etc, in the knowledge that I have suffered from a devastating mental illness in the past. As with Waitrose Customer Care, it has never been admitted that any of this is happening to me, and frequently denied, sometimes to my very face. Aside from a brief spell near the start 13 years ago using a hidden camera to record these experiences, I only recently started, occasionally, trying to film these security guards to prove that was happening.

Likewise, I do not go round beating up or shouting at security guards. Unlike 90% of males I would imagine if put in my situation for 13 years, and 99.9% of male schizophrenics, I have never once lost it to that point, although I have come close to being physically assaulted by secuity guards on a number of occasions, for example just for asking to speak to the manager of a store. The occasion in Waitrose last week, was about as bad as it gets, as on leaving the store I said – ‘you’re welcome’ to the security guard as I left the store, just as a security guard had said the same to me mockingly as I left the store on one occasion a couple of years ago.