In Trinidad and Tobago, the high visibility of violent crime—home invasions, kidnappings, and gang activity—creates what psychologists call a chronic threat environment. When people feel that danger is unpredictable and close to home, their tolerance for harsh responses tends to increase. Not because they are cruel, but because they are trying, in their own way, to feel safe again. They tell themselves that some lives have stepped outside the circle of empathy.
This is why, when the police recently killed members of the “Tall Boots Crew,” the reaction of many wasn’t just approval—but something closer to vindication. In psychological terms, this blends emotional relief with what’s called vicarious justice: people feel that something wrong has been corrected, even if they weren’t directly involved.
Imagine a 70-year-old farmer waking up at 3.30 am to eight young, masked men storming his home. He is beaten and bound before they escape with his cash and cellphone. For those who think this is a trivial crime, it is important to understand what can happen to such a victim.
Emotionally, he might experience intense fear during the event—especially being outnumbered and restrained, which creates a strong sense of helplessness. Afterwards, it’s common to see lingering anxiety, shock, anger, or even shame (some victims feel embarrassed or blame themselves). He can develop symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, experiencing nightmares, intrusive memories, or feeling constantly on edge. Sleep problems and a loss of a sense of safety in one’s own home are also very common.
Psychologically, there can be a deep loss of trust—both in other people and in the idea that home is a safe place. That can lead to social withdrawal, depression, or reluctance to live alone. Older adults are sometimes more vulnerable to prolonged emotional distress because the shock can disrupt their established routines and sense of independence.
Physically, being tied up can cause injuries such as bruising, cuts, circulation problems, or nerve damage. There is also a risk of dehydration, breathing difficulty, or complications from preexisting health conditions, including triggering a heart attack or stroke. In older individuals, physical trauma can have more serious consequences and longer recovery times.
Long-term harm can include reduced mobility, increased dependence on others, and a lasting fear that affects daily life.
Johnny Abraham, DCP Suzette Martin and ACP Richard Smith, who spearheaded the police’s lethal response, have been hailed as heroes of the moment.
Praise came not only from the Cunupia community, but from many across the country, including two of our leading criminologists.
When communities experience repeated victimisation, there is often pent-up anger and fear. The extermination of criminals can trigger a sense of relief or satisfaction—an emotional discharge that someone is finally “doing something.”
When people perceive that “justice was served,” a ripple passes through the public. It is not simply celebration. It is relief. It is the exhale after holding one’s breath too long.
Psychologists call this the Just-world hypothesis—that fragile but persistent belief that good should prevail and wrongdoing should meet consequences. In safer societies, that belief is upheld quietly by institutions. In more uncertain ones, it must sometimes be felt dramatically, even violently, for people to believe it still exists.
Faced with chaos, we draw lines: protector and predator, home and threat, “us” and “them.”
This is why the words of Police Commissioner Allister Guevarro resonated with some when he said, “Let this stand as a clear message: once you choose violence against law-abiding citizens, the TTPS will find you, pursue you, and stop you. The days of criminals moving with impunity are over. If you invade homes, you will face the full weight of the law. Crime has consequences, and the TTPS will ensure that those consequences arrive quickly.”
However, we need to be cautious. When people start equating lethal force with “justice,” we risk eroding due process and normalising violence as a solution. It is paramount that we also address the low detection rate for serious crimes, delays in the justice system, low conviction rates, and outcomes that don’t always match the emotional weight of the crime.
But perhaps this is not really a story about violence. It is a story about longing. A longing for a world where doors can remain unlocked, where sirens do not punctuate the night, where justice is not sudden and final, but steady and sure. Until that world feels real again, people will continue to find heroes in moments where fear is interrupted—however briefly—by the sense that someone neutralised their threat
Not because they love violence, but because, for a moment, it felt like order had returned.
