The echo of a desperate plea still hangs in the air: “I’m 15, don’t let me die.” Those were the final words of Daejaun Campbell, a teenager ambushed and fatally stabbed in Woolwich just last September. His mother, Jodian Taylor, now faces a future shadowed by grief, and a growing skepticism as the government unveils yet another strategy to combat the rising tide of youth violence.
The announcement comes on the heels of a terrifying double stabbing at Kingsbury High School, leaving two boys, aged 12 and 13, seriously injured. A 13-year-old is in custody, suspected of murder. These incidents are not isolated; they are part of a chilling pattern that has gripped communities across the country, leaving families shattered and demanding answers.
Last year, 14-year-old Kelyan Bokassa boarded a bus in Woolwich, unaware it would be his final journey. He was stabbed 27 times, his cries for his mother a heartbreaking testament to the brutality of the attack. These aren’t statistics; they are lives extinguished, futures stolen, and a constant source of anguish for those left behind.
The government’s new plan centers around a £320 million investment in Youth Justice Services, mandating specialized plans for any child caught carrying a knife. The aim is to address the complex factors driving young people towards knife crime – exploitation, the lure of easy money within gangs, and a distorted glorification of criminality.
But for those who have already experienced the devastating consequences of knife violence, the promises ring hollow. Jodian Taylor, her voice laced with pain and frustration, describes the plan as “merely soundbites.” She recounts desperately seeking help from social services as her son was drawn into a dangerous world of drug dealing and gang exploitation.
“My son’s killer was known to the police,” she reveals, her words heavy with unanswered questions. “He had stabbed two people before. But still nothing was done. Where were his probation officers? What would be done differently this time?” Daejaun, she explains, was attempting to diffuse a fight when he was attacked, a tragic irony in a life cut short by violence.
Jodian believes proactive mentoring in schools, starting before children are even exposed to the temptation of knives, could be a crucial intervention. She envisions a system where accountability is heightened: “Get ankle monitors on offenders. Gangs don’t want anyone with them if they are tagged. And if something does happen, they can track them.”
However, concerns are mounting that simply forcing young people into mentoring sessions will be ineffective. Mark Anthony, who runs Project Lifeline, warns that the fear of retribution prevents many from opening up. “The penalty for not carrying a knife outweighs the penalty for being found with one,” he explains, highlighting the terrifying reality faced by those caught in the cycle of violence.
Anthony emphasizes the need to address the underlying safety concerns before expecting cooperation. His organization focuses on conflict mediation, providing a confidential space for young gang members to seek help and resolve disputes. “Once you take away their safety fears, young people start opening up,” he says. “But if you don’t do that first, expect silence.”
The statistics paint a grim picture. In the year ending March 2025, there were 205 murders involving a knife or sharp instrument in England and Wales. A staggering 52 of those victims were under the age of 25, and 14 were just children under 16. The weapons used ranged from machetes to kitchen knives, and even so-called “zombie knives.”
The fight against knife crime is a complex one, demanding more than just punitive measures. It requires a deep understanding of the vulnerabilities that lead young people down a dangerous path, and a commitment to providing them with the support and safety they need to choose a different future. The memory of Daejaun Campbell, and countless others, demands nothing less.
