Sevi Kemal meets an ambitious young man who sees crime as a permanent sideline.
‘It’s easy, tax free money. Even when I graduate I can’t let that extra money go.’
Across the table from me is a softly spoken graphic design student – I’ll call him Ataul. Until 18 months ago Ataul was part of S.H.E.D. (Spending Hours Making Dough), a criminal gang of around a hundred youths and young men aged 15-25, operating across Barking, Romford and Dagenham.
Gangs and youth crime – I bet you think you’ve heard it all before. But there are two aspects of Ataul which go against type: (1) there’s nothing remotely ‘gangsta’ about him; (2) although he’s left gangland behind along with the estates he grew up in, he does not see university as a one way ticket away from Crime Central; instead, he regards criminal activity as a must-have lifestyle accessory.
Ataul became part of S.H.E.D at the tender age of 15, while attending Sir Martin Sorrell School. ‘There were a lot of us, we went to school together or grew up on the same block,’ he recalls. Ataul claims that the gang evolved from a group of underprivileged youngsters ‘hustling’ to get by: ‘we were poor, we were from the ‘hood, and making money was our motive.’
Revenue came from fraud, robbery, burglary and selling drugs – white, crack and cannabis. ‘The money was more than Educational Maintenance Allowance, more than Job Seekers,’ Ataul boasts. Apart from the money, it was safer to be in the gang than out of it: ‘if you weren’t with them you were against them, and you would get started on.’
Ataul left after four years later when another gang member gave his name to the police for a burglary which the courts subsequently found he did not commit. When his alibi stood the test of cross examination, and a not guilty verdict was returned, Ataul felt so betrayed by the ‘snake indecent’ that he refused to rejoin the gang. Instead he enrolled as a university student.
So far it all sounds predictable: youth from estate appears to have no choice but to join a gang, but there is no honour among thieves; once bitten by his own kind, our hero shies away and starts a new life etc etc. Yet even though Ataul is now a second year undergraduate, many months away from his previous existence, he has made a deliberate decision not to leave crime completely behind.
‘I’m doing a degree but I still have youngers selling drugs for me on the side,’ he explains. Cannabis sales bring in £500 a week, he claims – and that;s just part-time. As a conscientious student, he adds: ‘I have to focus on my degree. I can’t be taking drug calls so I have people who do that for me.’
Ataul is a small, lightly built, mixed race guy with a kind, cheeky smile and warm brown eyes. He dresses like any other student in a black leather jacket, navy ripped jeans and a cream, polo neck sweater. His aftershave is sweet smelling. He has no tattoos and just one piercing – a small studded earring. The only thing ‘gangsta’ about Ataul is the gold tooth on the left side of his mouth that u get a glimpse of when he grins.
Ataul is happy to talk to me as he slouches back in his chair tucking into a greasy burger and fries. ‘I have my heart set on a top job in the City as a graphic designer,’ he says. He sounds like a textbook first jobber in the creative industries: ‘to design and create is what I live for – it’s what drives me.’
But as Ataul sees it, crime will continue to figure in what he lives by: ‘I can’t wait to graduate and start my career but the easy, tax free money crime brings me is addictive and too good to let go. I want that extra money to lead the bachelor life style.’
Time alone will tell.